The Night We Became Each Other’s Dream

Hanbyeol, like Yuseong, grew up hearing that he was calm for his age.
But compared to Hanbyeol, Taeha was even more calm and mature.

It was Hanbyeol who had felt hurt and sulky, turning his head away first.
If it had been anyone else, this situation could have easily led to a fight.
But Taeha approached first and soothed Hanbyeol’s hurt feelings.

There was no fault on Taeha’s part whatsoever.
Yet he lowered himself first, came over, apologized, and even explained why he couldn’t be together.
He even made plans to be together, as if to ease Hanbyeol’s feelings of being sorry for himself.

As if he had noticed Hanbyeol’s sad heart at not being able to be with his close friends, it was a mature way of handling things.

He was flustered and didn’t know what to do when faced with Hanbyeol’s tears streaming down—that part was just like any other kid his age.
But for Hanbyeol, that alone was enough and made him happy.

Then, awkwardly reaching out, as if remembering what his parents did whenever he cried, Taeha pulled Hanbyeol into a hug and patted him gently.

He could have called an adult to soothe Hanbyeol, who was crying uncontrollably, but Taeha didn’t.
As if he had caused the tears and would take responsibility until the end, he shielded and protected Hanbyeol.
Even though, in truth, none of it was Taeha’s fault.

Thanks to Taeha approaching Hanbyeol first and calming him down, he was able to naturally return to his usual relationships with the other friends without any conflict.

The first day of the 2-night, 3-day schedule passed like that.
But on the second day, Hanbyeol, who had been in a different group, was moved to his friends’ group.

“My friend is alone in that group over there.”

They were kids from different schools.

It was intentionally arranged that way so children from various schools would interact and become friends.
But the instructors, seeing that Hanbyeol, who was somewhat shy, hadn’t properly mingled with his group members on the first day, granted Taeha’s request and moved Hanbyeol’s group.

Once he was in the same group as his friends, Hanbyeol was able to participate in the camp more comfortably.

When the native teacher, who he thought was too big and scary, spoke to him, he could stammer out an answer.
When they made English cookies, he could laugh loudly while getting flour on his friends’ faces.

He thought it was a good decision to tell his parents he wanted to go to the camp, following his friends.

Eunhan and Jaehwi, who had already become close with kids from other schools in their group and were noisy, weren’t particularly helpful.
But Taeha, who always stayed by his side, was a help throughout the entire camp.

“Hey, Taeha-ya~.”

They had only met the day before, and it was only the second day, but Taeha was incredibly popular.
Back then, Taeha’s height wasn’t much different from the other kids; in fact, Hanbyeol was slightly taller.

Yet, because of his uniquely calm demeanor and sparkling eyes, he stood out even among a sea of similar-looking children.
The way Taeha remained unfazed in front of foreigners made kids from other schools seek him out easily.

‘Taeha is my friend, though.’

Whenever Hanbyeol had that thought, Taeha would always come and sit next to him.
So Hanbyeol wouldn’t get sulky over nothing, Taeha would approach him, hold out his hand, and suggest they go together.

I’m the one who’s closest to Taeha.

It was a childish thought, but a quiet pride grew in his heart.
A pride that he was the one who had seen Taeha’s usual self and his mature side like this for the longest time.

“Alright, shall we give it a try? Anyone who wants to, Hands up~.”

The situation happened on the second night.

The stage was too grand a word for it.
An auditorium without proper lighting.
The lights were off on the floor level, but they were on in the area raised about two steps, which served as a makeshift stage.

It wasn’t a training camp, so there was no candle-lighting ceremony about a parent’s love or anything like that.
But there was a talent show.

Since it was an English camp, they tried to make the kids use English as much as possible.
But perhaps thinking to loosen up a bit on the night before going home, a karaoke machine, sourced from who-knows-where, had firmly taken its place.

At first, they all sang together.
Not流行 songs, but easy English songs and nursery rhymes.

When they announced that Korean songs were allowed, the students gradually relaxed.
Later, the teachers even volunteered and set up a competition to get the kids excited to go on stage.

“One person per group, sing a song! Extra points for the group that sings the best!”

Honestly, it was just recreation.
Even if they got those damn points, they were useless.
But still, the kids clapped and cheered wildly, desperate to earn points.

They said there were also points for cheering, so even when students from other groups sang, they clapped loudly and shouted, keeping the atmosphere from dying down.

“Then, for our group, let’s have Taeha go up!”

“……Me?”
“Yeah! We all sang the English nursery rhymes, but Taeha was the best, right!”

The elementary school kids, who didn’t want to go up themselves but were desperate to earn points, pushed Taeha, who was best at English, onto the stage.

The atmosphere was already incredibly hyped thanks to the student from the previous group who sang an OST from a popular drama (one their parents said they were too young to watch).
Taeha got on stage and chose a popular idol song from that time.

The adults found it amazing how quickly kids these days caught onto trends.
But from the kids’ perspective, it was only natural.
The younger you are, the more sensitive you are to relationships with friends and the faster you react to trends and stimuli.

As the upbeat song started playing, the kids clapped and sang along.
The atmosphere was completely different from when kids from other groups had come up to sing.

Part of it was probably because they knew the lyrics since it was a popular song.
But in Hanbyeol’s eyes, it was something else entirely.

[Yeah, it’s the me you wanted.
It’s the you I wanted.
To me, you’re a flower, my star and my sky.]

A somewhat cheesy and childish love song rang out clearly.
Under the plain white lights, with nothing resembling proper stage lighting, Taeha was smiling.
And Hanbyeol, sitting in the dark, forgot to clap for a moment.

On that stage, which didn’t even feel like a real stage with everyone singing along, Taeha shone brighter than anyone Hanbyeol had ever seen.
For the first time, Hanbyeol truly listened to the lyrics of a song.

[You’re the one I cherish most.
I’m the one who needs you.
Now, seeing you is the greatest happiness in the world.]

The melody of the song etched itself into his ears.
A beautiful, pre-pubescent soprano voice enveloped the song.
But that song was far too high for Taeha.
He was certain of it.

Waaah―!

Applause erupted around him.

Unlike his friends who were screaming, Hanbyeol couldn’t even open his mouth.

That stage was far too small for Taeha.

* * * *

After the recreation activity ended, a small fireworks display began.

They couldn’t actually set off fireworks, so they just held sparklers.
But over a hundred students ran around the hot summer night, each holding a sparkler.

“Hanbyeol-ah, what are you going to write for your dream?”

Hanbyeol was lighting the end of Taeha’s unlit sparkler with his own.

“Dream?”
“Yeah. Future dream. They said we have to write it down before we go home tomorrow.”

When he was young, Hanbyeol’s dream was always changing.
When the kind teacher handed out candies to students, he wanted to be a teacher.
When he saw an engineer giving an interview on TV using difficult words, he wanted to be an engineer.

“Taeha, what about you?”
“I don’t know……”
“I’m going to write composer.”

But no other job had ever shaken him like this.

If the person standing on stage sang a song he made,
and if the kids sang along to his song like they just did, how thrilling would that be?

Taeha’s round eyes stared intently at Hanbyeol.
A single sparkler became two.
The light Hanbyeol held was shared with Taeha.

“Taeha, you were really cool earlier. Up on stage. I can’t sing, so I can’t do that. So I want to be the person who makes that cool thing.”
“I was cool?”
“Yeah.”

Hanbyeol nodded.

“Taeha-ya. Later, when I…… when I get good at making songs, will you sing my song?”
“But I’m not a singer?”
“Just, I wish you would sing it. Even if another singer sings my song, you could still sing it too, right?”

Hanbyeol said it lightly.

Even without the fancy lights you see on TV, Taeha sparkled.
If the song he made was really good, Taeha would shine anywhere.

“Then I’ll become a singer.”
“……Huh?”
“Then I can be the first to sing the songs you make.”
“Really?”

Taeha nodded.
Really, truly.

Hanbyeol’s expression brightened.
That would be the best.

One day, when they were young, not even knowing the meaning of the word ‘muse’.
Taeha held out his hand to Hanbyeol.
Two small, cute pinky fingers hooked together.

“I’ll work really hard to make it great.”
“Then I’ll work really hard to sing it well.”

The dream of two childish kids was born that day.

* * * *

So he felt even more sorry.

Because, from that day on, Taeha’s dream had started with words Hanbyeol had spoken.

Taeha practiced hard, and while Hanbyeol was immensely proud of that, he was also worried.
Unexpectedly, when Yuseong became an idol, Hanbyeol learned just how much of a soul-crushing path Taeha was walking.

He couldn’t bring himself to force Taeha.
The memories of the past remained, along with the sparkling sparklers.
But recalling all the hardships Taeha had endured, his throat tightened.

The long trainee period, multiple canceled debuts, the eventually terminated trainee contract.
He had even gone right up to signing a new trainee contract because of this recent situation.
But Taeha refused without hesitation.

He said he had refused before because he didn’t like the agency in the first place.
But if Taeha had said he really wanted to do it, Yuseong and Hanbyeol would have taken steps to prevent any entanglement with that agency’s debut lineup.

Taeha said it was okay.
But a part of Hanbyeol’s heart felt heavy.

“Hanbyeol-ah. It hasn’t changed. I still want to sing the songs you make.”

A low voice comforted Hanbyeol.
Still mature and kind.
Taeha gently soothed him, so he wouldn’t carry guilt because of him.