Chapter Text
“We’re sorry, but you don’t fit with the image we’re going for in this group. We will no longer be considering you for the lineup.”
The words echoed hollowly in Wreck’s ears as the smile froze on his face.
It’s over.
The producer’s voice faded into an annoying buzz, something about next time and backup dancer for now. But Wreck knew deep down that it was over.
“Wreck! Wreck! I made it, I’m going to debut!”
Wreck barely had time to react before Nice leapt into his arms. He definitely didn’t have time to hide the look of devastation on his face before his friend noticed.
Nice’s happy smile faded, “You got cut.”
Wreck shrugged, “Nothing out of the ordinary.” Which was true. It wasn’t his first time being cut from the debut lineup. But it didn’t make it easier each time it happened.
He wasn’t as young or shining as the new trainees coming in. This was his last chance to debut. And the door to his dream of becoming an idol was swinging shut.
Nice hugged him tightly and cried at the airport when they left to promote their debut.
Wreck ruffled Nice’s freshly dyed hair and held him close. “I hope it’s just as wonderful as we dreamed it would be,” Wreck whispered before pulling away to gently wipe the tears from Nice’s cheeks.
“Smile, handsome. So many people are going to fall in love with you.”
Nice sniffed noisily and clung to Wreck like a baby koala.
“You too.” Nice grinned, looking both pathetic and handsome (as always) in his current state. “You’re going to make it too. And then we can perform together again.”
Wreck felt a lump in his throat but swallowed it down with difficulty. He wasn’t going to make it. He wouldn’t perform with Nice ever again.
Wreck laughed and smiled over the next few weeks whenever he videocalled Nice, but inside he was a disaster. He didn’t know what the hell he was going to do next. He took a gamble and gave up his education to pursue his dream of becoming an idol. That was the plan. There was no Plan B for him.
He trained for another two months before he left the company. Or rather, he just stopped going. Wreck woke up one morning, mouth dry as a desert from the night of drinking, muscles throbbing from practice and old injuries, and just didn't get out of bed.
Ah, this is really not the way to live.
It was only after 5 days did the company send one of the younger trainees to Wreck’s apartment for a wellness check. Only then did Wreck finally call the company and tell them he wouldn’t be going back. Then, he went back to sleep.
After the 10th day of laying in bed and drowning in existential dread, Wreck blinked awake and laid there for a moment.
Well, this is really not the way to live either.
He sat up and tried to think.
Baby steps. He had plenty of time to fuck up his life further. No need to rush.
Wreck got up and took a shower. He pondered what to do next as he stood under the warm stream of water.
He needed a new job now that he quit the company and was no longer receiving backup dancer gigs. After inspecting his haggard reflection in the mirror, Wreck wondered if he should try to become an office worker.
Well, he was going to need to change up his look if he wanted to be considered employable. Wreck ran a hand through his disheveled hair. Hm.
He dug around his items before he found the old hair clipper that hadn’t been touched since he started growing out his hair.
Wreck took a deep breath and turned the hair clipper on. It buzzed angrily to life. He raised it to his scalp.
And lowered it back down.
Wreck looked in the mirror again and decided he wasn’t that far gone. Yet.
He put the hair clipper away and changed his clothes. Then he left the house to find a new job that did not involve sitting in an office.