The Unveiling of a Past

“Han Doyoung!”

While the members being called to the company was a frequent occurrence, this marked the first time the CEO had personally visited their dorm. Choi Byung-joo, the public enemy of Ray and CEO of UNI-Q, burst in with a face crimson with rage.

“What the hell are you doing, you bastard!”

Han Doyoung silently bowed his head.

The group practice schedule, generously planned for once, had been canceled due to an exposé that surfaced at dawn. The furious CEO had threatened, ‘Don’t go wandering outside and draw attention to yourselves.’ This was exactly what they had heard over the phone just moments ago.

In summary, the content of the exposé was as follows. The author claimed to have attended the same high school as Han Doyoung and to have been a victim of school violence perpetrated by Han Doyoung, who was part of a bad crowd at the time.

Even years after the physical violence, they still lived with trauma, and seeing Han Doyoung’s face everywhere as a celebrity caused immense stress. At the end of the post, there were authenticated photos of Han Doyoung’s graduation album from his previous school before transferring to an arts high school, along with a medical opinion letter dated from that period.

“…”

The individual at the center of the controversy was utterly dumbfounded, unable to utter a proper word.

‘Wait, Han Doyoung, school violence?’ If he had truly committed such acts, there was naturally no intention to defend him.

However, the term felt profoundly, truly profoundly, mismatched with the current Han Doyoung. On the surface, he might appear a bit rough around the edges, and he tended to speak rather forcefully.

Yet, peel back the layers, and one would find nothing more than a passionate, simple-minded kid.

‘He doesn’t seem like someone who would bully others…’

*Thwack!* A sharp friction sound struck their ears. Looking up, they saw Yoon Jihyuk holding the CEO’s wrist.

It appeared he had intercepted a blow the CEO was about to unleash in a fit of uncontrollable rage.

“CEO, you were about to lay a hand on his face.” Yoon Jihyuk murmured, his voice chillingly calm.

“Aren’t you going to protect your artist? We haven’t even confirmed the facts yet.”

A tense silence descended. Yoon Jihyuk’s response was perfectly appropriate.

Had he not stepped forward first, I would have intervened myself. Choi Byung-joo found Kwon Yohan—or more precisely, Kwon Yohan’s father—to be a formidable figure, so my words would likely carry weight with him.

Lee Seon, who had been staring at the ground with a face on the verge of tears, asked in a trembling voice.

“S-so, did you really… do it? The school violence?”

Han Doyoung lifted his head. His eyes were dull, half-dead.

“No. I didn’t do it. I didn’t, but… I don’t know. That’s what I remember.”

In the short time between realizing the scandal had broken and the CEO’s arrival, Han Doyoung had read the highly viewed posts and their comments. His hands, which had started trembling then, were still shaking uncontrollably.

The reactions from beyond the screen were chilling.

[I didn’t go to the same school, but I’m from the same area, and Han Doyoung was famously a bully back then lol]

[Yeah, he was even said to be part of a biker gang or something.]

[Ah~~ He’s finally exposed, lol. That crazy bastard who’d pick on anyone just for passing him in the hallway, lol.]

The multitude of comments pouring in simultaneously bolstered the credibility of the post.

In the midst of this, more individuals claiming to be victims emerged, and Han Doyoung’s past actions on broadcast were highlighted, creating an atmosphere that condemned the entire group as if it were a collective problem.

[The reputation of the bully group doesn’t just disappear, does it? ^^]

[These guys have been sketchy since their debut, lol.]

[But doesn’t it make them more marketable if they have a bit of a bad-boy image rather than just looking like low-ranking kids? At least that’s how I feel.]

Each time a reaction seemingly from an extreme fan appeared, the public’s condemnation intensified. Han Doyoung, helplessly taking hits of raw, unretaliable attacks, was not in his right mind.

This meant he was incapable of rational judgment.

“Maybe I just don’t remember it. I didn’t think much of it, but the person who posted the comment… maybe they perceived it that way.”

Look at him. He couldn’t even trust himself.

“What should I do about this? An explanation? Should I post an explanation? Or an apology?”

“Hyung, just calm down for now.” When I couldn’t bear it anymore and offered a word, Han Doyoung shot me a look filled with resentment.

His gaze seemed to ask if I would be calm in his situation.

“CEO. Please contact the alleged victims first. It’s not too late to determine right and wrong after that.”

Only then did Choi Byung-joo’s face regain a semblance of reason.

“Yes. Yohan is right. If push comes to shove, we can just give them money and get our stories straight.”

‘…That wasn’t what I meant by ‘response,’ though.’

****

UNI-Q immediately released articles and notices everywhere stating that they were verifying the facts. The netizens’ reactions remained utterly bleak.

[If it’s not true, just say it’s not true. What’s there to verify, lol? It’s so obvious what these big companies do… clearly trying to silence the victims, lololol.]

It was chilling to realize that, judging solely by the CEO’s actions, the netizens’ speculation was largely accurate.

In the interim, Han Doyoung was excluded from official schedules and practically confined to the dorm. He occasionally showed his face at group practices, but his mind was elsewhere, often fumbling awkwardly.

As a week passed in this precarious, thin-ice atmosphere, they finally managed to contact the original poster, who had been refusing communication.

It was a triumph achieved after much pleading, begging them to at least meet once, promising a reward just for that.

The author’s name was Min Young-jun. He claimed that his post contained nothing but the truth, and that a disciplinary committee had even been convened, leaving an official record.

Refusing a direct confrontation with Han Doyoung, citing that meeting him would trigger his trauma, he demanded a handwritten apology from Han Doyoung and his withdrawal from the group.

And Han Doyoung, having heard the entire story…

“Min Young-jun. Min Young-jun… Min Young-jun?” He seemed to have finally remembered who the person was.

“Woah, damn it, isn’t this guy crazy?” After that, he erupted, spewing every curse word imaginable, raging uncontrollably. Yoon Jihyuk, waiting for the fiery Han Doyoung to calm down, asked with a tense expression.

“So, what is it? Are they lying? Was there no disciplinary committee or anything?”

“No, well… the disciplinary committee was indeed held. And it’s true I hit him.”

“…Then?”

Han Doyoung’s explanation followed, half explanation and half expletives.

The incident occurred during his first year of high school, around the time he joined UNI-Q and was assigned to Group A. At the beginning of the semester, he had a group of friends he got along with reasonably well.

However, as he struggled to adapt to the unfamiliar trainee life, he mostly slept at school, and spent all his waking hours outside of school in the company’s practice room, naturally leading to a drifting apart from his friends.

He wasn’t particularly fond of moving in crowds anyway, and had been getting along fine. However, he had to endure some minor inconveniences that came with not having friends.

For instance, no one would wake him up even if he was asleep before P.E. class.

Han Doyoung recounted that he was deeply asleep, covered head to toe with a blanket, his face propped on a cushion, in the most comfortable state one could achieve in a classroom. He had found it unusually quiet, which he appreciated as it meant he wasn’t disturbed.

Then, he vaguely started to come to, hearing giggling and chatter.

‘Who’s that?’ ‘Isn’t that Han Doyoung?’ ‘So jealous, he can sleep like that at school and no one says anything.’

He was accustomed to people grumbling and finding fault, and it was true that he received some leeway at school, so he didn’t bother to pretend to be awake.

‘Hey, doesn’t it smell weird?’ Soon, he heard sounds of movement around the classroom, and one of the group discovered a carton of long-expired, rotten milk in a corner.

‘Isn’t this like, cheese now?’ ‘You like cheese, right? Eat it.’

Then, one of the guys, who had been giggling while pretending to vomit, spoke up as if he’d just thought of something amusing.

‘Give that to me.’ ‘What? Are you actually going to eat it?’ ‘Are you crazy?’

The guy approached a desk not far from Han Doyoung, tore open the rotten milk, and unhesitatingly poured it all over the bag sitting there.

‘Whoa.’ ‘Hey! It stinks!’ ‘Young-jun just sprayed Hye-joo with a fitting perfume.’

No one properly pointed out the wrongness of the act. Han Doyoung said he felt a surge of irritation, disgusted by their snickering.

Eventually, class ended, and students began returning to the classroom one by one. Everyone glanced at the smelly desk, curious about what had happened, but no one dared to protest to the suspected culprits.

‘Oh no, Hye-joo…’ The owner of the desk was a girl who was regularly bullied by that group. Even Han Doyoung, who frequently skipped school and was mostly asleep when he did attend, had noticed something was amiss with her situation.

Hye-joo, returning to the classroom a little later than the other students, stood rooted to the spot in dismay, staring at her ruined desk.

‘Pay for it.’ ‘Paaay fooor it~’ ‘Pay for my bag and the things inside!’ ‘Paaay fooor iit~’ ‘You guys did this! Clean it up and pay for it!’

Min Young-jun, who had merely been mimicking her words mockingly, suddenly changed his demeanor and instead started to argue back.

‘Hey, did you see us? Did you see us do it? What if you didn’t?’ Han Doyoung’s reason finally abandoned him at the sound of that brazen, taunting voice.

As Han Doyoung abruptly threw off the blanket he was wrapped in and stood up, the eyes of every student in the classroom fixed on him.

Han Doyoung strode directly towards the back door of the classroom and picked up a large trash can, about waist-high. It was, to his great satisfaction, conveniently overflowing with various kinds of trash.

He then returned to his original spot and dumped the contents of the trash can over Min Young-jun’s head.

‘Hey. That suits you better.’ Next, he picked up the damp, soaked bag. As he showed signs of pouring its contents again, Min Young-jun cursed profusely and backed away.

‘No, damn it, if you hate it, why do you do it to others? Huh?’ As the bag was set down, Min Young-jun, regaining a bit of his composure, clenched his fist and raised it.

‘Hit me. Go on, hit me.’ Han Doyoung, who had been taunting him, suddenly realized as the fist actually came up: ‘Ah, right. I can’t get hit in the face.’

So, he shoved him hard to push him away. He hadn’t even put that much force into it.

Unfortunately, the classroom door had been left open for ventilation due to the smell, and Min Young-jun was pushed back forcefully, tumbling helplessly like a paper doll towards the window by the hallway.

He then latched onto the injuries he sustained from hitting various things and dragged the matter all the way to a disciplinary committee.

“…So, if you really think about it, it was indeed school violence.” Sighs erupted from various corners. Everyone instinctively knew that the situation would be difficult to salvage.