Cracks in the Mirror

The music show they had pre-recorded in the morning required a live broadcast in the evening, so Pentagram headed back to the station.

“This should do for you, Ji-ho. But your complexion doesn’t look great. You’re not coming down with something, are you?”

Ha-neul asked with a puzzled expression while touching up Ji-ho’s styling.

Following Yu-jin, even Ha-neul was expressing concern. Ji-ho peered at his reflection in the mirror, wondering if his face really looked that dark. He was already used to wearing a forced smile so that the heavy emotions piling up in his chest wouldn’t show.

“I’m fine. Being tired isn’t exactly a new thing.”

“True. Even Yong-ha Oppa hasn’t been sleeping lately; his dark circles are down to here. It’s great that you guys are famous and busy, but I worry about what’ll happen if you get even busier. We really need a new hire soon.”

Ha-neul, the only stylist belonging to the management team, was also the girlfriend of Team Leader Yong-ha. She talked at length while checking if the members’ outfits were wrinkled, and the waiting room became even rowdier when Ha-un appeared, never one to miss out on a conversation.

“Noona, you should be saying you want us to be even more successful and busy. Is your boyfriend’s comfort your first priority?”

“Oh, Ha-un, you know it’s not like that.”

“Hmph, who knows? Yong-ha Hyung might even say he wishes he had a bit more free time when he’s with you.”

“What are you talking about? You know how hard he’s running around to grab schedules for you guys. Don’t you know he’s going crazy trying to get broadcast points because he’s determined to get a #1 win during this promotion? Even the company staff have been frantic all day saying we have to follow up with an event immediately if we win first place.”

The topic of achieving a #1 win on a music show was clearly interesting to Se-han, who joined the conversation after changing into his stage outfit.

“There’s not much left until the final broadcast—does Yong-ha Hyung say we have a chance?”

“…I’ll get scolded for giving you guys pressure if he finds out I talked about this.”

“We all know the reason we extended promotions by a week was for a music show win, anyway.”

Originally planned for two weeks, Pentagram’s 3rd mini-album promotions were extended by an extra week after the initial results surpassed expectations. As Se-han said, it was to keep the momentum going and achieve the goal of a trophy.

“Since the Glitter Sunbaenims have finished their promotions, don’t we have a pretty good shot?”

Glitter was a top-tier girl group, and unfortunately, their promotion period had overlapped with Pentagram’s. Despite Pentagram’s high digital and physical sales, the reason they couldn’t guarantee a win was their still-growing public recognition.

“The company expects that since the real-time voting is solid, it’s possible if we just boost the broadcast points. That’s why Yong-ha Oppa is pushing himself without sleep, so you guys hang in there a bit longer. Especially you, Ha-un—stop whining so much.”

“See? I told you the two of them were badmouthing us!”

Se-han looked satisfied hearing the high probability of a win, while Ha-un fled with a pout, fearing Ha-neul would continue her nagging. It was also true that Ha-un was busier than the others today, given his role as the special MC.

The atmosphere in the waiting room remained positive afterward. The mention of a realistic chance at #1 had the members in high spirits.

Ji-ho also managed to escape his gloomy thoughts for a moment. Not wanting to be caught on camera with a somber face during a potentially emotional winning moment, he asked Ha-neul for one more makeup touch-up.

He didn’t realize that the good mood wouldn’t even last a few minutes.

“Guys, here’s the script.”

“They gave us a lot of time since Ha-un is the special MC.”

During the nearly two-hour live broadcast, various performers appeared aside from the stages themselves. Short segments where different idols interacted with the MCs were part of the show. Since it was all live, it was necessary to receive the script in advance and memorize it.

However, having a set script meant being forced to follow the demands of the program’s writers.

“What is this? A ‘taming a cute beast’ version? Are they telling me to act all cute and charming?”

The members gathered to check the script but froze at the sound of Noah’s sharp voice. In the section introducing the choreography for the title track <Untamed>, Noah’s lines were long—a testament to his popularity—but the dialogue was undeniably exaggerated, enough to make his sculpted face scowl.

“f*cking hell, why do I have to do this? Where did our concept and the stage atmosphere go? If I do this shit and then the pre-recorded stage comes on, people are really going to be able to focus, aren’t they?”

“Kang Noah, you know the head writer here is famous for holding grudges, right? Don’t you dare skip anything.”

Though annoyed, Noah couldn’t argue with Yong-ha’s words. The only rebellion he could manage was to violently crumple the script and throw it. When he stood up abruptly and stormed out of the waiting room, Yong-ha let out a headache-filled sigh.

“I knew he’d react like this after seeing the script. Kang Noah’s temper, seriously… Ji-ho, can you go after him? He might actually go find the writer to complain.”

Originally, Ji-ho intended to stay in the waiting room until the broadcast was completely over. He was worried he might run into Jae-in again and hear Kim Jun-o’s name.

“I’m sure he won’t go that far. Noah might be irritable, but he’s different once the cameras are on. Fine, I’ll go.”

However, seeing the sheer exhaustion on Yong-ha’s face, Ji-ho had no choice but to get up.

***************************************

Walking through the station hallways while bowing politely to staff and senior artists, Ji-ho soon caught up with Noah. It was easy to find him in front of the vending machines; even the station employees, who were tired of seeing celebrities, were staring blankly at Noah’s handsome face.

“Kang Noah, did you come out without your phone? What are you drinking? I’ll get it for you.”

“Forget it. I’m not thirsty.”

Noah’s well-groomed eyebrows were furrowed, clearly annoyed by the eyes on him. Perhaps he was also annoyed that Ji-ho had followed him. Did he not know that the members and company staff treated him like a ticking time bomb?

Normally, Ji-ho wouldn’t have bothered opening his mouth to an upset Noah. The reason Noah shared a room with Ji-ho and felt most comfortable with him was that Ji-ho wasn’t as noisy as the others.

But thinking of Yong-ha’s sighing request, he couldn’t stay silent.

“…I know you hate acting cute on broadcast, but it’s part of the job. We can’t help it.”

“Ha. So because I’m a celebrity, I should play the clown in front of the camera? There’s a limit to that shit. Why is it always me they ask for this crap?”

“Because the reaction is good when you do it. Think of it in a positive way.”

In truth, Ji-ho was envious of Noah.

A level of appearance that “handsome” couldn’t quite describe; the undeniable center of the group who drew attention just by existing. Not only that, but he was also recognized for his dancing and held the role of main dancer.

It would have been strange not to be jealous of Noah—someone so different from himself, who was mocked as a “pancake flipper” and ignored by fans. Perhaps his decision to step forward was driven by a part of him that wanted to criticize Noah for rebelling despite having all that popularity to himself.

Knowing that this persuasion was useless and would only provoke Noah’s anger, Ji-ho strangely couldn’t stop talking.

“We’re going live soon. You should practice the script at least once. Like a pro, okay?”

Until finally, the target of Noah’s irritation shifted to Ji-ho.

“If you like it so much, you do it instead, Jung Ji-ho.”

“What?”

“Why? You’ve always been good at doing that stuff without a second thought. Acting like a pet in front of the camera. So do it instead of me.”

“What are you talking about? You know we can’t just change things as we please. Don’t be unreasonable.”

“Why can’t we? Actually, you’re not saying you don’t want to. I mean, you’ve been desperate to stand out anyway. Even going as far as soliciting the Team Leader for a stage… you’re so passionate.”

Ji-ho was left speechless by Noah’s words, which were dripping with sarcasm. Realizing that Noah had overheard his brief conversation with Yu-jin, a wave of shame washed over him.

But Noah, already thoroughly crossed, didn’t stop his vitriol even after seeing Ji-ho’s pale face.

“It was a surprise. You always act like you’re for the team, like other members come first, like you’re the one sacrificing… but behind our backs, you’re having those kinds of talks with the company.”

He should have realized someone would hear him talking in an open office. The price for acting impulsively and ignoring company procedure was exactly as Yu-jin had warned.

“That was… I mean, do you know what happened today—”

“Forget it. Don’t make excuses. I’m not criticizing you. Like you said, we’re pros—is it wrong to look out for your own screen time? Humans are two-faced by nature, anyway.”

With a cold smile, Noah was so dazzling that one might be willing to endure any insult just to look at him. Even his frozen, icy gaze only served as a seasoning to enhance his looks.

But Ji-ho knew better than anyone how much distrust Noah carried behind that breathtaking face. He could clearly feel the suspicion Noah held toward him—the same suspicion he always held toward others.

After nearly four years, Ji-ho had believed that Noah’s guarded nature had softened, at least toward him as a fellow member. But with one mistake, it felt like the thick walls of the past had been erected again.

“Take this chance to be honest. Tell me if there are more hidden feelings. I bet you have plenty more for me, don’t you?”

“What other feelings would I have toward you?”

“Actually… you think you’re wasting your time because of someone as incredibly high-maintenance as me.”

Noah’s words weren’t entirely wrong.

Having grown up sensitive and defensive due to a unique childhood, Noah had caused exhaustive problems throughout Pentagram’s activities. He couldn’t even share a room with anyone but Ji-ho, and after a certain incident, he had shown a visceral refusal to let outsiders enter the dorm.

Because of this, Noah had obtained permission from the company to keep a separate studio apartment and only stayed at the dorm when necessary. However, during promotions, he was forced to stay at the dorm, and while he was there, they couldn’t even hire a housekeeper to handle the chores.

Whenever Noah was sensitive about minor living details, it was Ji-ho who cleaned up after him.

Even during busy schedules, Ji-ho did the housework; when Noah threw a fit, everyone naturally looked for Ji-ho. To accommodate his obsessive habits, Ji-ho couldn’t even rest properly in their shared room, and he was the first to step in whenever an object or situation triggered Noah’s sensitivity.

“I’ve never thought that.”

But Ji-ho had never once considered taking care of Noah a waste of time. He had believed it was his own role to help the group.

“Never? Ha. I didn’t know you were such a good liar, Jung Ji-ho.”

Yet at this moment, facing Noah’s blunt accusation, another self inside Ji-ho whispered.

Did you truly believe that? Did you never think that your efforts and sincerity weren’t actually that important to the group?

Did you really never once think that you wanted to escape the endless chores and focus on activities that were more like an actual idol’s—

“…I don’t think this is a conversation to have in public. Let’s talk later, privately.”

“Forget it. What else is there to talk about?”

Knowing that the wall Noah had rebuilt wouldn’t easily come down if they ended the conversation here, Ji-ho still used the eyes of others as an excuse to flee the spot.

Among all the misfortunes of the day, the conversation just now was the most shocking to Ji-ho. A fear he hadn’t even known existed began to rise from deep within his heart.

The fact that all the time he had desperately put in and endured might have meant nothing to the group or the members—it was a cruel truth he might have been looking away from all along.