Fragments of a Rumor

Life as a patient in a hospital was busier than one might generally think.

There were the medical staff who entered frequently for checkups, the pills that had to be taken strictly on time even if their numbers had decreased, the daily rehabilitation treatments that induced cold sweats, and the undercover-like movements across the ward to reach the imaging rooms.

However, Ji-ho was a person who had spent several months waking up at dawn to execute four or five schedules a day. To him, hospital life was more than just boring—it was tedious. This was especially true in his current situation, where he felt he had to walk on eggshells and couldn’t even ask about the chaotic events outside, despite how much they weighed on him.

In times like these, his only reliance was the tablet that allowed him to look up news from the outside world.

He knew it was a bad habit, but every day since he had opened his eyes in this hospital room, Ji-ho entered “Pentagram” into the search bar. He read not only articles related to their car accident but everything concerning the group and the agency. By now, he could look at photos of the accident scene without flinching, and even the photo a suspicious man had taken of him no longer felt as uncomfortable.

Ji-ho continued to stare into the book-sized electronic device as if he were determined to find even the smallest shred of information. He even went as far as to find and read malicious comments to grasp the nature of the harmful rumors plaguing him.

[Jo is amazing. Not wearing a seatbelt + framing the manager + faking illness. The triple combo makes my head spin.]

[Finally, things are being set straight ㅠㅠ I stanned Kim Jun-oh during the Penta debut days, and I was bashed so hard for saying he didn’t leave but was unfairly kicked out because of Jeong Ji-ho. I’m glad this non-entity’s true character is finally being revealed.]

[If it weren’t for Jo, Pentagram wouldn’t have had a period of obscurity. Can we all agree on that?]

[I was looking forward to the full album, but it’s definitely going to be delayed because of Jeong Ji-ho ㅡㅡ He claims his leg is crippled, so just take this opportunity to drop him.]

[What’s up with the discord rumors? It looks like he’s trying to play the media by saying Jo was bullied, this is crazy;;; ㅅㅂ The victims are the other members. They went to visit him in the hospital but Jo refused, right?]

[According to a sasaeng, the kids are living in confinement in the dorm. What about our Bang-ju? ㅜ A kid who’s already sensitive is locked up… I knew Jo was trouble, but he’s seriously a nuisance.]

The space was filled with stories that Ji-ho couldn’t understand at all.

Words he never said and actions he never took were interpreted in the worst possible way, and even incidents from years ago were being manipulated to curse him. Someone posted a clumsy “verification,” claiming they had heard it directly from an insider, and even without evidence, the public sentiment was being misled by people asking if such articles would have been published for no reason.

Ji-ho’s reputation hadn’t been positive to begin with, but this time, it had reached a severe level. Even people who knew little about idols believed everything was true simply because the articles were posted by established media outlets.

Online, Ji-ho was a nuisance who threw cold water on a successful group, a liar, and a person with a hideous character.

“Did I… really commit a wrong so great that I deserve this much hate?”

The malicious comments he had read kept resurfacing. Every single letter tangled together in his mind. The self-loathing that had been eating away at Ji-ho during his rest in the hospital grew even larger.

When the photo was taken, he shouldn’t have frozen; he should have reached out to catch the man. He shouldn’t have gone for a walk alone in the first place. No, he shouldn’t have even stepped out of his hospital room if it was dangerous.

Even if the company tried to stop him, he should have done a live broadcast beforehand to say he was okay. If he had delayed the departure by saying the seatbelt was strange, the accident might not have happened. He should have noticed the approaching sense of foreboding after seeing strange things happen repeatedly that day.

‘When that incident happened, I should have told the members the truth. If we had announced exactly what wrong Kim Jun-oh committed to get expelled…’

But would the situation have changed? Would these people who hated him for no reason have changed? Would Kim Jun-oh’s fans, who had been obsessed with Ji-ho for years, have changed their minds?

And would the members be by his side right now?

Ji-ho clicked on the message box on his tablet. Like checking the news, it was a habit he had recently formed. He checked it every hour, stared at it, and set the notifications to be loud, but it remained empty.

“Have I committed a great wrong against you all as well?”

In an instant, a surge of uncontrollable anger rose within him. It was a violent emotion unlike anything Ji-ho had ever felt before.

Thwack— Without realizing it, Ji-ho picked up the tablet he was holding and threw it. The white tablet, thrown with all his strength, flew across the room and crashed into a corner of the floor.

The tablet screen, which had been filled with posts criticizing someone without reason, turned black—perhaps broken by the impact, or perhaps simply because time had passed.

His senses returned quickly.

Ji-ho, sitting blankly on the hospital bed, blinked rapidly. The negative emotion he had felt moments ago had vanished without a trace, but in its place remained an extreme sense of confusion.

“Why did I…?”

No matter how much he thought about it, it was a violent action that was hard to believe he had committed.

He wondered if it was a side effect of the medicine he was taking. However, in the medication guide Ji-ho had received, there was no mention of side effects such as sudden agitation. There was no way Ji-ho would misremember a mere one-page document.

Was this the PTSD after the accident that the company was worried about? Knowing it stood for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Ji-ho raised his trembling hand to try and retrieve the tablet thrown far away. He wanted to at least search for information related to it.

However, just lowering his left leg from the bed caused a sharp resistance of pain. He was in a state where he couldn’t take a single step without an assistive device, and even if he used the device within reach to walk, he wouldn’t be able to reach down to the floor where the tablet had fallen.

‘There is nothing I can do.’

Perhaps because he had spent such unfamiliar energy in a short amount of time, a deep sense of futility washed over him. The subsequent helplessness and complex emotions even stopped his hand from reaching for the assistive device.

He didn’t want to move his body anymore. He didn’t want to think about anything. He would no longer deliberately look into and collect the wounds that stabbed at him.

Ji-ho pressed a nearby button to automatically recline the raised hospital bed. Along with the mechanical hum, his shoulders lowered.

Lying flat, he saw the now-familiar white ceiling. Even though it was still daytime, Ji-ho closed his heavy eyes.

“Right, I’ll just sleep like this… and ask the doctor during rounds tomorrow. Like Yong-ha Hyung said, me resting is what helps.”

He had to empty his mind. Even though he knew his brain, which stored memories, would never truly be empty, Ji-ho intentionally tried to fall asleep.

His forcibly closed eyes maintained a slight tremor for a long time. The only mercy was that, thanks to the effects of the medicine, that time did not drag on forever.

Toward a deep, deep place where he wouldn’t even dream, where he didn’t need to think about anything, Ji-ho’s consciousness sank deep, and deeper still.

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

The sleep he had forced upon himself did not last very long.

When Ji-ho opened his eyes, he saw the wall clock telling him that only a few hours had passed. The clock, indicating that it was just past the typical end of the workday, brought disappointment to him as he had hoped for the next morning.

The only relief was that the intense anger he had felt before falling asleep, and the futility that followed, had vanished without a trace. Ji-ho shook off the unpleasant grogginess remaining in his body and pulled himself up by the hospital bed handle.

“Huh?”

What entered his vision was not the tablet still lying on the floor. Beyond the small window in the door separating the hospital room from the reception area, there was light and a shadow that appeared to be a person.

“Is someone in the reception room?”

Looking outside, the sun had long since set, and the caregiver must have gone home without waking the sleeping Ji-ho. It was also strange for Yong-ha, who was said to be so busy, to still be here. As Ji-ho recovered, visits from agency staff had become increasingly rare, and even if one of them had come, it would have been natural for them to wake him.

A small flutter of excitement filled Ji-ho’s chest.

He knew he was guessing wildly, but he couldn’t let go of the expectation. The thought was that the members he had waited for so long, or at least some of them, might have come for a secret visit, defying the company’s instructions.

‘Ha-un is so noisy, so they probably left him behind on purpose. That’s why it’s so quiet. Kang Noah might have sat this one out since he hates a fuss. But even though Choi Go-hun acts like he doesn’t care, he’s surprisingly kind… Se-han Hyung probably told them not to wake me.’

It took no time at all to stand up completely using the assistive device he had been reluctant to touch earlier. Because of his left leg wrapped in a thick plaster cast, his body should have been uncomfortable, but strangely, it felt light.

Each step he took while pushing the device seemed to require less effort than before. As he approached the door, he could faintly hear a man’s voice talking to someone.

“…What did Manager Kim say to make you say such a thing?”

‘Talk about the agency? Is it Se-han Hyung?’

A small smile formed on Ji-ho’s lips.

That expectation was quickly proven to be an illusion.

Through the gap of the door he slid aside without making a sound, the owner of the voice was revealed. It was Yong-ha, whom he had expected to have already left.

‘Why is Yong-ha Hyung still here?’

The hope that the members had come for a visit was a complete misunderstanding, but Ji-ho wasn’t overly disappointed. The fact that the manager, who must be busy with personal matters as well, had stayed for several hours out of concern for him was a devotion warm enough to touch his heart.

Ji-ho was about to tell Yong-ha thank you and to head back before it got any later.

However, as soon as he heard the voice coming from the other person who hadn’t been visible through the gap—Ha-neul—Ji-ho’s hand, which was about to open the rest of the door, froze in place.

“If Ji-ho leaves the group, the whole situation will be resolved. Tell Oppa to try and persuade him. That’s what Manager Kim said. If that happens… won’t Oppa’s situation improve as well?”

Hearing words he couldn’t understand at all, Ji-ho gripped the assistive device tightly to keep from falling.