Chapter 11: Between Exhaustion and Momentum

Life kept moving forward.

I was still living the same way.
I hadn’t quit anything, and surprisingly, the arrangement work was going smoothly.

With a whatever happens, happens mindset, I kept sending revision requests for every file that came in.
Then those changes would be reflected, and long comments would come back in reply.

After recording guide tracks, countless MP3 files had passed back and forth.

Just as I was about to step into the recording booth, the studio director called.
It had been so long since he last contacted me that I almost thought it was a mistake.

After a bit of small talk about how things were going, he said something completely unexpected.

—Jaeha, we decided to list you as a co-writer on the title track.

“Really?”

—Yeah. I heard you did most of it.

“What do you mean ‘most of it’…”

This was pure luck.
An opportunity I hadn’t even dared to hope for.

Black hyung didn’t have a track this time, and somehow my song was getting good feedback.
I’d never imagined something like this.

It felt unbelievable—and burdensome.

Do they really have that little expectation for our album?

Even with that absurd thought lingering—

“Okay. Let’s go with that.”

I still said yes.

Even while worrying that the criticism that always followed my self-composed songs and solo work might now stick to the group’s title track,
I couldn’t let go of my greed.

This decision didn’t come out of nowhere.

They planned to announce that all members had participated in producing the album, starting with me being credited on the title track.

But as always, the other members had only added minor touches—some rhythm layers or small tweaks—to tracks made by the company producers.

The one who had actually spent the most time in the studio was me.

After ending the call, I listened to my raw voice from the recording booth.

Even after adjusting the console and adding autotune…

My voice just…
I didn’t know.

At this point, there wasn’t much I could change anyway.
The choreography had already been reworked, and changing the song further would make it impossible to match the dance.

Hwan usually led the choreography,
and if I pushed for more changes now, he might actually bury me alive.

…Let’s stop.
Just tweak one or two more things…

Suppressing the lingering regret, I left the studio.

Wooseong, who had been up before me, had only tapped on the keyboard and left.

What a waste of equipment.
All that expensive gear just for that guy?

Anyway, thanks to the pressure, I’d been living pretty quietly these past few days—
no drinking, just going back and forth between the practice room and the dorm.

The manager was very openly pleased about it.

Well, good is good.

Today’s last schedule was dance practice.

Lying flat on the cold studio floor, I thought to myself—

Contrary to what the manager thought, I hadn’t stopped drinking because of pressure,
but because of emotional shock.

Still… it was a good thing, I guess.

But what lingered in my mind was what Jungwon had whispered close to my ear—

“You haven’t been drinking lately?”

I’d been so startled I jumped up immediately.

Jungwon had just smiled faintly—
a strange smile, impossible to tell whether he liked it or not—
and stepped away.

Right then, break time ended.

At the announcement that we’d be dismissed if we nailed the next run,
the members groaned and slowly got up from the floor.

Hwan, who choreographed the routine, clapped his hands to hurry us along.

“Hyungs, get up. I made this easy considering everyone’s skill level. Hurry.”

“Easy? What part of this is easy?! Let me feel your generosity, please!”

Wooseong shouted dramatically as he stood up.

Everyone silently agreed.

Moments like this—when we could understand each other’s internal curses just by exchanging looks—
were when I really felt that we were nine years into this.

That guy seriously thought we could dance like him.

There was no way this difficult choreography would fall into place in one go,
but we couldn’t just lie around either.

It was already past midnight.

Let’s just go home already. I’m dying.

Standing at the far right, we took our positions.

The electropop beat started.

A song I’d scraped together day and night, barely holding my eyes open.

The track I’d stubbornly shaped my own way had, in the end, compromised—
the chorus and beat adjusted into a trendy “money chord” progression.

…Has that ever actually worked?

I kept time in my head.

Dun. Dun. Dun. Dun.

The steady rhythm echoed.

It was an opportunity that had come unexpectedly,
but it was also a compromise—

and at the same time, an escape born from my lack of confidence in myself.

But it wasn’t even my solo.
Wouldn’t it have been better to play it safe?

No—
not just safe.

Reliable.

A guaranteed, trending money chord.

But again—
has that ever really worked?

My body moved mechanically through the choreography,
but my thoughts were tangled.

Then came the part where we switched formations and kicked forward following the center shift.

I twisted my waist, faced forward, and lightly kicked my left foot ahead—

But instead of being light, I used too much force.

At that moment, my weight shifted onto my right foot—
and it slipped.

The floor was slick, maybe from spilled water.

In an instant, my head tilted backward.

“Ah—!”

My body lifted into the air.

I shut my eyes, screaming as if my tailbone was about to shatter—

But before I could hit the floor,
I stopped mid-fall.

Arms wrapped around me from behind, taking the impact instead.

A dull thud echoed as someone hit the ground.

Everyone turned at once.

Even the manager, who had been lounging in a chair, jumped up.

“Jungwon! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Hearing his voice right by my ear, I realized who I’d practically fallen on.

Jungwon stood up again, slipping his arms under mine and lifting me.

I got to my feet as if nothing had happened.

My face flushed instantly.

Partly from falling in front of everyone—

and partly because Jungwon had been behind me.

The warmth that had wrapped around my back disappeared,

and unable to turn around, I snapped instead.

“Who spilled water here?”

“Jaeha, wasn’t that where you left your water bottle earlier?”

Ah… right.

At the dance team’s remark, I had nothing to say.

I even ended up snapping at the manager.

“So Jungwon’s more important than me now? You’re not even worried about me?”

“What are you talking about? He fell protecting you—why would I worry about you? Didn’t you hear his knee hit the floor?”

That was his knee?

Then…

What do I do?

I turned awkwardly to apologize,

but Jungwon had already picked up his hoodie and walked past me.

He muttered to the people gathering around,

“I’ll take a break.”

“Hey, are you hurt?”

“Just… a bit.”

“Jungwon! If you’re injured, say something! Is a patch enough? Do you need a hospital?”

He walked out steadily, not limping—but still worrying everyone.

The manager hurried after him.

The rest of us and the dance team sat or collapsed back onto the floor, watching him leave.

I thought about following—

but my reflection in the mirror stopped me.

My face was completely flushed.

Too flushed for just a simple mistake.

I grabbed my water bottle from the corner and pressed it against my face.

Jungwon…

Why did he… stand up like that?

Does he always react like that when someone’s hurt?

The memory of the solid warmth behind me made me shiver.

“Good work.”
“Good work.”

Practice finally ended at 1:50 a.m.

We all shouted our farewells louder than ever and quickly began dispersing.

As everyone dragged their exhausted limbs out, the manager shouted,

“Tomorrow at 5 p.m.! Don’t be late!”

“We’re coming back here again?”

Yeonho hyung shouted from the back.

The dance team glanced over, but I deliberately avoided their gaze.

Through the mirror, I saw myself standing alone,
and Hwan rolling his shoulders, saying he’d pulled something.

The manager replied casually,

“Yeah. Same place.”

“Got it. See you tomorrow.”

Maybe the upstairs practice rooms were fully booked—
trainees preparing for debut, or ongoing training sessions.

Yeonho had only asked to hint that we should move out of this basement.

Well… at least it didn’t smell like mold anymore.
They repainted.
Even changed the lights.

I glanced around and let out a small laugh.

Instead of following the noisy group out, I lay back down on the floor.

Wooseong tapped my foot playfully as he passed.

I raised a hand in response and stretched out completely.

This time, Yeonho’s face appeared right above me, blocking my view of the ceiling.

He sat near my head and lightly brushed my bangs aside.

I smiled and shook my head.

“What?”

“I heard you’ve been behaving lately.”

“I’ve always behaved.”

“The director said you’re tricky.
You seem easygoing, but then you cause trouble and don’t listen, so you’re oddly difficult.”

“Seriously? What trouble have I caused?”

“You did, before.”

“Ah—stop, stop.”

He was about to bring up old stories, so I pushed his hand away.

But instead, he messed up my hair even more.

Giving up, I just let him.

After tapping my forehead lightly, he stood up.

With Yeonho gone, no one else spoke to me.

The footsteps faded.

I stretched my arms overhead.

“Ah… that feels good.”

Lying on the cool wooden floor, staring blankly at the ceiling—

This moment right here.

This was the best part.

My limbs felt numb, like I might die, but not actually dying. Exactly this point.