Quiet Exit

Ji-ho had always been the type of patient who never asked for a single favor from the staff visiting him, despite his limited mobility. It was only natural that Yu-jin was startled when such a person called her early in the morning specifically requesting a visit.

Yu-jin arrived at the hospital just after lunch, as Ji-ho had requested. Sensing that something was amiss, her expression was already somewhat stiff.

A moment later, after hearing Ji-ho’s decision, she couldn’t contain her heightened emotions.

“Officially suspend activities? And not just for a month or two, but through the full-length album? Why on earth… why would you suddenly think that, Ji-ho?”

Yu-jin’s shocked reaction provided a measure of comfort to Ji-ho. Before Kwon-ho joined, she had been the person with the most influence in the company after CEO Hyung-jun. It was a relief to know that she, at least, had never considered his departure.

Ji-ho spoke about the hiatus calmly, as if he were discussing a mundane daily event.

“They say the prognosis for rehab is good and I won’t have trouble walking, but I might feel pain during intense idol performances. The promotions for the 3rd mini-album were already cut short because of the accident; I think the next full album needs to be perfect. With all the controversy, would the company even have the leeway to worry about my condition?”

However, Yu-jin couldn’t understand why Ji-ho—who until recently had been worried about the future of Pentagram’s activities—had suddenly made this choice. Faint wrinkles formed on her naturally stern, rigid face.

“Did one of the staff members say something unnecessary to you?”

As expected of someone whose years of experience were buried deep in the bones of the company, Yu-jin voiced her sharp suspicions. She glared at him intensely, as if trying to read his true intentions.

“Last time, Team Leader, you told me that any suggestions for the company should go through the management team. Having heard that, do you think I’d be talking to other employees? I’ve been stuck here in the hospital the whole time.”

“Then the management team must have…”

“No. There’s no way Ha-neul-nuna or Yong-ha-hyung would suggest this first. Oh, and I hope you don’t misunderstand me contacting you directly like this. It’s an important matter, and as you know, Team Leader, Yong-ha-hyung’s current situation isn’t great.”

“Ji-ho, if you’re still thinking about what I said back then, I admit I spoke excessively on purpose. I wanted you to be an example for the other members to follow, so I gave you an overly harsh warning.”

Ji-ho hadn’t intended to bring up that past incident as a grievance, but he was glad that Yu-jin’s focus on it had caused her to drop her suspicions.

Ji-ho continued his explanation. He hadn’t expected Yu-jin to accept the decision immediately, so he had spent hours in his hospital room considering various ways to ensure his resolve would be accepted without lingering debate.

The answer he arrived at was simple: he would act tired and weak to prevent any other speculations.

He was, in fact, an injured patient and a victim suffering from a false accusation. Even if he couldn’t act the part of someone pressuring others, acting tired and fragile was easy for him.

He just had to cast off the “I’m perfectly fine” mask he wore like a habit.

“I didn’t make this decision out of petty feelings from being scolded. I’m just… I’m exhausted too, Team Leader Lee. Honestly, I’m the victim of the accident, yet I don’t know why I have to be torn apart by the public. And though I’ve never mentioned it, I’ve found group activities overwhelming many times before.”

“Ji-ho.”

“Please don’t worry, no one is bullying me. You know as well as I do that the other members have struggled with the busy schedule too. If my physical condition were okay, I’d recover and overcome it quickly. But how long it will take to fully recover… right now, I don’t have the confidence.”

Perhaps it was the plain white hospital gown, or perhaps it was his naturally pale skin, but his complexion looked exceptionally ghost-like today. Yu-jin’s voice, which continued to try and persuade him, now carried a gentleness usually reserved for soothing a child.

“It must be frustrating not being able to walk alone right now, but I heard your recovery rate is good and it won’t take long for your leg to fully heal. So let’s not decide hastily and just wait. You don’t need to give up on the full album activities when the plans aren’t even drawn up yet.”

‘Team Leader Lee doesn’t even know that the A&R team is planning to move up the full album schedule.’

Only then did Ji-ho realize that there were internal rifts even in this agency, which he had thought was united as one. He realized that despite being smaller than other agencies and having a friendly atmosphere, it was still a place where diverse people gathered—and with the recent changes, the company was no longer what it used to be.

His conviction grew stronger. It was a strange belief that there was no way to resolve the entire situation other than his hiatus. This was why his next words carried a bit more stubbornness.

“I want to do this. What’s the point of resting if I’m just going to be anxious about returning quickly? There’s already so much controversy surrounding me; the noise won’t disappear just because I take a short break.”

“So you’ve decided not to participate until the activity after next? Hah, I don’t understand. No matter how I think about it, Ji-ho… this isn’t like you.”

“…It isn’t like me. Please just think of it as me being that exhausted, Team Leader Lee.”

Deep pain and melancholy were visible on Ji-ho’s unfiltered face. Only after seeing that did Yu-jin believe there truly were no other hidden reasons.

“Actually, there was one thing I wanted to ask you, Team Leader Lee.”

To the woman who hadn’t yet sorted through her confusion, Ji-ho brought up a question he had been burying. The timing was odd, but now that he had revealed his inner thoughts, it was the perfect time to ask.

“What is it? Ask anything.”

“I didn’t think it was true, but I heard a story. That Jun-oh… Kim Jun-oh had contact with our company…”

Ji-ho took a breath as Yu-jin seemed to recall something at the mention of the name. ‘Kim Jun-oh’ was still a name that was hard to utter.

“I’m not sure what you mean by ‘contact,’ but something similar did happen. We tried to reach out to him first, but as I recall, there was no response from Jun-oh’s side.”

“What does Star Entertainment have left to do with Kim Jun-oh?”

Yu-jin faltered at Ji-ho’s uncharacteristically sharp tone. Fortunately, her subsequent explanation restored peace to Ji-ho, who had become sensitive without realizing it.

“I believe it was because of the hate comments and rumors directed at you. Since false information was spreading regarding when Jun-oh was released, the PR team wanted to set the record straight. Even if things didn’t end well, Jun-oh spent a long time with our company. They were trying to get his cooperation to dispel the rumors about you.”

“Ah… was that… what it was?”

Realizing it was all a misunderstanding, Ji-ho was able to clear away the last bit of residue in his heart. He was also relieved that Jae-in, who had been in the same debut group, hadn’t just made things up to provoke him.

Yu-jin looked at Ji-ho across the reception area with curiosity. Since the details regarding Jun-oh’s release remained a secret known only to Ji-ho and CEO Hyung-jun, his hypersensitive reaction must have caught her attention.

However, she interpreted it differently.

“Ji-ho, I know you’ve been hurt by people who hate you for no reason. That’s probably why you’re suddenly worried about Jun-oh and talking about a hiatus. For now, we’ll continue to discuss what I heard today within the company, but if you change your mind even a little, tell me or Team Leader Jin immediately.”

Yu-jin hoped until the end that Ji-ho would change his mind, but she couldn’t easily sway a decision made after so much contemplation.

“I don’t think my decision will change. The sooner the announcement, the sooner the noise will die down. Please, Team Leader Lee. Help me so I can rest peacefully.”

Because the shadow of exhaustion on Ji-ho’s face was so genuine as he made his request without a hint of a smile, Yu-jin had no choice but to nod.

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

It was exactly one week later that it was announced that Pentagram member Ji-ho would be suspending his activities for the time being. During that period, which could be called both short and long, many things happened to both Ji-ho and Star Entertainment.

Yong-ha, upon hearing the news, came to see Ji-ho in a state of great panic. At first, he insisted that a hiatus was out of the question, but whether he lost to Ji-ho’s rare stubbornness or felt relieved that he no longer had to perform the difficult task of persuading Ji-ho himself, he eventually accepted it quietly.

Star Entertainment actively swayed public opinion as soon as the announcement was made, as if they had been waiting for this moment.

They harshly condemned the media outlets that had secretly broken into the hospital to take photos and spread malicious rumors, even though it was true that Ji-ho had been seriously injured enough to require a break. Hospital A also gave interviews regarding the condition that required Ji-ho’s admission to the ICU and his loss of consciousness. The public, who had been pointing fingers at Ji-ho, now turned their criticism toward the reporters who had hounded a patient.

Those who had insulted Ji-ho—the only member thrown from the vehicle—claiming it was his own fault for not wearing a seatbelt, now mocked him, saying it was “karma” that he had to drop out of a successful group. As if viewing the hiatus announcement as their victory, the hate comments hounding Ji-ho naturally began to fade.

Furthermore, once Ji-ho’s handwritten letter, which he had carefully drafted over several days, was released, the ridiculous rumors about his death or discord within the group lost their power.

The commotion surrounding Ji-ho quieted down to an extent that made one wonder why it hadn’t been settled sooner.

The frantic hands of the clock soon pointed to a month after Ji-ho’s admission. Now, Ji-ho had recovered to the point where he could walk with just crutches, without the need for supporting devices.

Standing by the bed with its neatly folded blankets, Ji-ho looked one last time at the tablet that had been his sole source of support during his hospital stay. It wasn’t the fan cafe where he posted the letter, which was full of comments telling him to recover and return quickly, but a post on another community site where his letter had been shared.

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

[Best] Full text of Jung Ji-ho’s hiatus letter

[Hello, my dear Glows. This is Ji-ho 🙂 First, I’m most worried about the Glows who must have been surprised to hear today’s news. I’m picking up this pen to convey my sincerity, even if it’s just through a handwritten letter. I met great members in the blessed group called Pentagram and have run this far with the help of thankful people. There were many difficult times, but I don’t think I overcame those moments alone. Because the Glows who always cheer for me were there, I could make every moment a happy one… …Not long ago, an unfortunate accident befell us. It was an unexpected accident that happened in an instant, but I was able to overcome this too, thanks to everyone who prayed for me. I am recovering safely thanks to the medical staff who worked hard for me, the family-like members who stayed by my side, and the agency that always puts us first. However, due to the rehabilitation period being longer than expected and the feelings of inadequacy I have always felt, I have decided to take some time to reorganize… …Even while I’m away, I will always wonder what Glows are doing and what you are thinking. To me, you are the most thankful people, precious friends, and partners I want to be with forever. So please don’t be sad, and continue to support the remaining members’ activities. I will count down the days until we meet again, so please promise me that you will stay happy and healthy until then. (A delicately drawn small heart) To Glows, our fans whom I always love, miss, and rely on.]

This is the full text of the letter Ji-ho posted. What does everyone think?

Recommend 549

What do I think? He’s resting because of an accident, what else should I think?

└ I’m the OP, why so prickly;; I just shared it.

└ It’s because Pentagram fans are super sensitive since Jung Ji-ho got beat up for no reason. Just understand.

…

But why is a guy’s handwriting so neat? Is it a ghostwriter?

└ If you look at fansign photos, it’s definitely Ji-ho’s handwriting.

└ The content was definitely dictated lol Where does that sound like someone in their early 20s?

…

None of the controversies were explained. He’s really calculating his exit.

└ It’s fine, at least ji-ho isn’t freeloading on Pentagram anymore.

└ ㅡㅡ Here we go again. You guys were the ones trying to bury a sick person, right?

└ Don’t feed the trolls.

…

Star Ent notice says “For the next 1st full album activities.” Finally, 4 members without Jung Ji-ho!!

└ Without ji-ho, the vibe will be properly set lol

└ Wait, doesn’t it say he’s resting? Why does everyone think it’s a withdrawal?

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

‘I seem to be visiting these sites more often now. It’s a relief that the controversies seem to be somewhat forgotten.’

Whether the magical power of the provocative element known as “hate comments” can even bewitch the person being hurt by them, Ji-ho let out a hollow laugh and flipped the white electronic device over.

He wouldn’t be holding this device much longer anyway. Today was the day of his discharge.

“I told you to at least take the tablet. Or take a phone. Going to that far-off countryside dangerously… Ji-ho, it’s not too late, change your mind. You can’t even run properly, and you’re going to live alone? If you hate the dorm, I’ll find a safe place at my house or have the company find a place for you…”

Yong-ha, who was packing Ji-ho’s few belongings, spoke rapidly like he was nagging. As the criticism faded and the police investigation seemed likely to conclude with just a fine, his haggard appearance had returned to its former neatness.

“Hyung, really, stop it. People say the best thing to do when you’re sick is to rest at home. That’s all I’m doing.”

After deciding on the hiatus, Ji-ho had finished several negotiations with the agency. Since he hadn’t completely withdrawn from the group and was still an idol, there were things he had to observe during his break, and the company had an obligation to help their artist.

However, while he accepted most of the obligations, he politely declined the company’s help. This included management from Yong-ha; Ji-ho had informed them that he would be leaving Seoul to go down to his hometown in the countryside.

“Do you think I don’t know that you haven’t visited that house once since your grandmother passed away and you entered the orphanage? What do you mean, ‘home’?”

“How did you… you must have heard that from Se-han-hyung. I only talked about the hometown house with him.”

“Is that so? Anyway, it’s a house that’s been empty for nearly ten years. The thought of you living there alone makes me uneasy.”

The bitter smile on Yong-ha’s face perhaps contained an apology for the moment he turned his back on Ji-ho for his own well-being. Understanding the manager’s feelings, Ji-ho never mentioned that he had eavesdropped on the conversation between him and Ha-neul that day.

“Don’t worry too much. I’m not a minor; I’m a full-grown adult. And it’s not like I’m going to live there forever.”

“Is that so? I guess I’m being fussy since you’ll recover and be back soon. Usually, kids preparing to be idols don’t know anything about the world, but since you’re uncommonly mature, it’s confusing.”

It was the first time in a while he had heard Yong-ha’s banter.

Seeing that, Ji-ho realized that many people had indeed become more comfortable because of his decision.

Because of that, he felt he could leave peacefully now. He no longer felt any lingering resentment toward the members who hadn’t shown their faces until the final day.

‘Goodbye for now.’

It was a farewell to his home called Pentagram.

Whether this separation would truly be brief or eternal, Ji-ho couldn’t know for certain just yet.