Chapter 27: A House That Doesn’t Feel Lived In

“Earlier, Wooseong came out dragging two huge suitcases.”

“Guess he’s gotten really into clothes lately.”

And if that idiot had really packed all his belongings like he was emigrating somewhere, then maybe I could steal some of his stuff while he wasn’t around.

Thinking that, my own tiny amount of luggage didn’t even need the trunk and ended up tossed onto the back seat instead.

The roads before lunchtime had a reasonable amount of traffic.

Driving would always be nice if it stayed this empty.

The moment that thought crossed my mind, I fell asleep with my head against the window. I only woke when the car stopped and my body lurched forward.

At some point, we’d arrived at a parking garage lit by bright white lights.

Manager hyung dragged my suitcase for me while I shuffled after him with my forehead alternately pressing into and lifting from the stuffed doll in my arms.

Looking at the green caterpillar plush I was hugging, the manager asked in the elevator,

“What kind of doll is that?”

“I think I got it at a fansign back during our first album promotions.”

“You think? You better not have gotten that while dating someone or something. Think carefully.”

“No, seriously. I really got this at a fansign. I just don’t remember exactly when. I’ve been sleeping with it ever since.”

“You got tons of stuffed animals, so why a caterpillar?”

“It’s round, so it’s comfortable to hug.”

“You should carry around something prettier if you want photos to come out well.”

“He’s cute too.”

Resting my chin between the caterpillar’s antennae as I answered, I watched the manager stare at the doll intensely.

Apparently he couldn’t find a single cute thing about it no matter how hard he looked.

Since I wasn’t carrying it around to earn approval from other people anyway, I hugged it tighter against my chest. The texture against my chin was soft and smooth.

We got off the elevator and entered Jungwon’s apartment.

Nothing had really changed since the last time.

The place was still spacious and strangely barren, maybe because he was busy, or maybe because he simply didn’t care. And it still looked excessive for one person living alone.

There were already shoes by the entrance.

Jungwon’s weren’t there.

Instead, there was a pair of white ugly sneakers worn with the heels crushed down, neat navy sneakers, and black height-increasing sneakers shoved off to one side.

The height boosters were probably Wooseong’s.

Thinking that, I slipped my shoes off and stepped inside just as the room next to the entrance burst open.

It was Wooseong—the same guy who’d supposedly packed all his belongings into immigration-sized suitcases. He’d been grumbling to himself, but the second he saw me, his face lit up.

“Jaeha hyung!”

“Yeah.”

“Have you seen Jungwon’s place before?”

“I came once before.”

“Seriously, isn’t this too much? Manager hyung, look at this.”

“What now.”

“We’re all in the same group, so how are the dorms this different? This is ridiculous.”

“It’s not like I picked this place out for him. The director talked with upper management and assigned it. I don’t know anything. I just come and go.”

Even while saying that, the manager subtly avoided eye contact before picking up my bag and leading the way further inside.

“Where should I put your luggage?”

“What’s with you all of a sudden?”

We were already so used to each other that casually dropping off our stuff had become natural, but maybe the manager still felt self-conscious around us sometimes.

He looked momentarily lost standing in the huge space. I almost suggested the dressing room automatically before changing my mind.

“Let’s ask Jungwon first.”

“He said to do whatever. Jungwon barely cares about this place anyway. If there aren’t promotions going on, he stays at his actual house.”

“Then just leave it there. That program’s probably gonna make us share rooms anyway. They even script scenes and make people act to squeeze out content—there’s no way they’d let us use separate rooms.”

Every variety show worked like that to some extent. Even rankings and award ceremonies followed scripts and predetermined sequences.

But Close-Up was especially obsessed with manufacturing “reality” even when it didn’t exist.

That was why everyone said filming it was unbelievably stressful.

I could already picture the painfully predictable storylines they’d try forcing out of us.

Yeonho hyung came out from one of the inner rooms after apparently checking something out. He still wore his usual gentle smile, but clearly couldn’t stop himself from commenting.

“They said these dorms were assigned based on each member individually, but this is kind of ridiculous. They didn’t rent this place recently, right?”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

At that moment, I saw Hwan casually stroll out of the master bedroom.

No matter how empty the apartment was or how freely Jungwon let people wander around, I still remembered exactly which room that was.

“Hwan. Don’t go into someone else’s bedroom.”

“There wasn’t even anything in there, hyung.”

“Did you go looking for blankets? There probably aren’t any.”

Hwan glanced behind himself and shrugged.

“Yeah. There aren’t. How’d you know?”

“I came here before.”

“When?”

“The time Jungwon hurt his knee because of me, so I brought him home.”

Since it was simply the truth, the explanation flowed out smoothly without hesitation.

Still, the looks directed at me afterward felt weirdly sharp.

Then Wooseong piped up again from behind me.

“You and Jungwon have gotten way closer lately, hyung.”

“I’m close with everyone.”

“Right. Our Jaeha gets along with everybody.”

I hadn’t expected even Yeonho hyung to join in.

Standing close beside me, he casually rested a hand on my shoulder, squeezed once, then let go.

“It’s just surprising that Jungwon’s the one getting close.”

“What about Jungwon? Everyone gets along with him.”

“We do get along, but…”

Yeonho hyung shrugged and glanced toward Hwan and Wooseong.

Honestly, even if he’d looked at me instead, I probably would’ve nodded too.

It wasn’t like any of us had ever experienced major conflict with Jungwon, and we all got along fine enough—but if someone asked whether we were truly close, that was different.

At least, that’s how I used to feel too.

The manager, who said the only thing he’d ever done was briefly step into the entrance while dropping Jungwon off, wandered into the kitchen. After realizing there weren’t even five cups there, he turned right back around.

He’d apparently planned to go buy supplies depending on how the room arrangements turned out, but the apartment genuinely lacked everything.

After being told not to go anywhere, we all gathered awkwardly in the living room.

Sitting around together in someone else’s empty house felt strangely uncomfortable.

Hwan leaned against the edge of the sofa taking selfies before fiddling with his phone. Probably uploading them to Instagram.

Watching him, he suddenly asked me,

“Hyung, wanna take one and post too?”

“I barely use Instagram.”

“Why?”

“It scares me.”

Wooseong sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the sofa while I perched behind him on the couch. Yeonho hyung sat a little distance away beside me.

The sofa was wide enough that there was still plenty of room left even spread out like this.

Wooseong stretched dramatically while leaning back and looked around the apartment.

“Jungwon’s dorm is already this nice, so why does he have another house too?”

“Guess he feels more comfortable at home since he lives alone.”

Unlike him, if I went home, there were my parents and younger sibling, so I usually just stayed buried in the dorm instead.

At my answer, Wooseong’s eyes widened again.

“Jungwon’s alone even when he goes home?”

“I’m starting to think it’s not that I’m close to Jungwon—it’s that you just have no interest in your members.”

“Ah. I mean… I knew Jungwon’s parents traveled overseas a lot, but I didn’t know how often.”

“They basically live there permanently. His older brother lives there too because of work.”

Originally, they supposedly hadn’t even needed a house in Korea at all, but their second son suddenly settled there to become an idol, so his parents ended up buying one anyway.

Or something like that.

I’d heard the story a long time ago, so I couldn’t remember clearly.

Already predicting where this conversation was headed, I lightly nudged Wooseong’s side with my foot where he sat near me.

“You were talking about buying your grandma farm equipment last time. What happened with that?”

“Ah, Jaeha hyung. Did you know farming equipment is that expensive? It costs as much as a car. I thought my grandma was trying to buy an actual vehicle.”

“So? Did you buy it for her?”

“How could I not? She already told everyone in the neighborhood her grandson was buying her one.”

“Good job. My dad kept saying the TV didn’t show my face enough anymore, so I replaced theirs too.”

“Seriously? It didn’t show you?”

“No clue.”

I’d just listened absentmindedly over the phone, gone “yeah, yeah,” and ordered a new TV for them, so my answer came out flat.

Even if the TV worked perfectly, they probably still couldn’t find my face anywhere lately anyway.

Still, with this program, maybe they’d at least see me a few times.

And the moment I thought that, my worry shifted immediately to our upcoming stage outfits.

My dad would be watching on a giant screen, so please—don’t put me in anything revealing, and please don’t hand me pink clothes again.

Wouldn’t it be better if Hwan wore the pink hat instead?

Maybe sensing my gaze, Hwan stopped staring at his fingers and slowly turned toward me.

“Hyung, why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing. But did you get another tattoo on your hand?”

“This one? Isn’t it sick?”

He lifted his middle finger to show me a tattoo wrapping around it like a ring.

Yeah.

Sure, it looked cool.

These days he really did get a lot of tattoos.

There was lettering tattooed along the inside of his wrist too, but the cursive made it hard to read.

Once everyone’s attention shifted to him, Hwan started showing off the tattoos on the back of his neck and other places while explaining them all over again.

Then he circled back to the tattoo on his hand.

“I’m thinking of getting another one here too. I can’t decide whether to do lettering or something small. What do you think would look good, Jaeha hyung?”

“A cross. Definitely a cross.”

Wooseong answered immediately from the floor near my feet.

Hwan lowered his eyes once before replying dryly,

“Your fashion sense is trash. I’m not accepting your opinion.”

“And Jaeha hyung’s some fashion leader?”

“Even if Jaeha hyung looks uninterested in clothes, he never wears anything weird. Worst case, he just dresses in all black.”

Even though they looked at me with those impossible expectations asking for advice.

I stared hard at Hwan’s index finger—the one patch of skin still untouched by ink.

He wanted another tattoo there too?

Did he really have to?

Trying awkwardly to steer my thoughts elsewhere, I finally answered,

“Can’t you just wear a black ring there instead?”

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s not that. I just don’t really know. Rings are something you can take off whenever you want.”

“Ah. That’s not the same thing.”