The Lingering Sickness and a Looming Reality

After the activity period concluded, I was bedridden for an entire week. My body, which had miraculously held up, collapsed the moment the tension finally released. My fever refused to drop below 39 degrees Celsius, leaving me no choice but to lie in bed, wasting the hours away.

‘Hey… are you okay? You’re not going to die, are you?’

Except when he was away at practice, Lee Seon would open my bedroom door what felt like every ten minutes, check my temperature, and then leave.

‘I don’t want to be the maknae, so you can’t die.’

Though his words were teasing, his actions clearly revealed his genuine concern.

I told Choi Seung-beom, who brought me porridge and antipyretics at mealtime, where the medicine was located, as I couldn’t move an inch from the bed on my own. Choi Seung-beom, as always, simply followed my instructions without asking about the situation.

Had I ever, in my entire life, been so weakened that I needed someone to care for me like this?

Kwon Yohan, are you scamming me too? You said I’d be fine if I just took my medicine on time. What part of this is ‘fine’? Do you consider it fine as long as I’m still breathing?

Rather than any specific area aching intensely, it felt as though my insides were scalding, causing me immense torment. My mind was hazy, my vision blurred, and my strengthless body felt as if it would simply melt away and flow into nothingness, only to be wracked by muscle aches come nightfall.

That red-haired guy often appeared before my eyes when I briefly regained consciousness, and his antics were childish.

‘Oh. You’re awake. How many fingers is this?’

…I was sick, not drunk. He’d hold up three fingers, waving them around, and spout such nonsense. When I didn’t react, he’d grumble with a slightly sullen expression.

‘I already set your workout schedule, when will you be able to start coming out?’

Exercise wasn’t the problem right now.

‘This crazy bastard…’

Perhaps finding my unfiltered outburst amusing, he chuckled, then, seeing me cough dryly, offered me an electrolyte drink before heading out to the living room.

I hadn’t informed Kwon Yohan’s family. I hadn’t contacted his mother or sister, nor the person Kwon Yohan himself had referred to as Secretary Choi. It was due to an unsettling premonition that if word of this situation reached their ears, something irreversible might occur.

More precisely, perhaps I should call it an expectation.

Even so, my physical condition was more severe than I had anticipated. I wondered if it might be better to inform them soon. Or perhaps I should go to a hospital. Just as these thoughts crossed my mind, my fever, quite fortunately, began to subside.

“Feeling a little better?”

Yoon Jihyuk’s face entered my vision, still hazy from sleep. He was wiping my arm with a damp towel. The cool temperature of the water was soothing.

As I gazed at the thermometer placed beside a bowl of water on the bedside table, Yoon Jihyuk, immediately understanding my unspoken question, quickly spoke.

“Your fever’s dropped a lot. It’s 37 degrees.”

That’s… what degree? A slight fever?

“What about the reality show filming? Do you think you can go?”

“Uh…”

My body, thoroughly drenched in sweat, now felt remarkably light. It seemed there wouldn’t be any major issues returning to daily life starting tomorrow. Filming would also be possible if I pushed myself a little.

“If it were up to me, I’d tell you to rest thoroughly, but the CEO said we should go together if possible. He said it’s okay to leave the island early if you feel unwell once we’re there.”

“Then I should go.”

The word ‘CEO’ had barely left his lips before my answer reflexively tumbled out. Yoon Jihyuk offered a wry smile and gently stroked my damp hair.

“Doyoung was fuming, telling me not to say anything crazy. He must have been really worried.”

“…Huh?”

So he *can* worry. Every time I saw him, he’d either come in to nurse me or to get on my nerves; I couldn’t tell which.

“Get some good rest today, and since we’re leaving early tomorrow morning, I’ll wake you up early. Should I pack your bags for you? We can only take clothes and toiletries anyway.”

*Then, since it’s bothersome, should I just ask him to pack it?* I hesitated for a moment before shaking my head. I knew the contents of Kwon Yohan’s wardrobe better than anyone. To pick out the most inconspicuous items from among the brightly colored, boldly styled clothes would require my personal touch.

“Alright. Call me if you need anything.”

Once his purpose was served, Yoon Jihyuk, with an unadorned demeanor, promptly exited the room.

Suddenly left all alone, I sat in a daze for a moment before pushing myself up. Dizziness washed over me, but it was momentary. I packed clothes, towels, toiletries, and a hairdryer into the pre-arranged suitcase, then opened the medicine box.

‘If I call them nutritional supplements, will they not take them?’

After some thought, I tore open the individually packaged medicines and put the necessary amount into a white container.

Having mostly finished packing, it was still early evening. I decided to take a quick shower and then sleep. Stretching, I headed into the bathroom.

Kwon Yohan’s reflection in the mirror was haggard. His eyes, fixed on me from where he sat hunched, were unfocused.

“Even ghosts can look haggard, apparently.”

When I muttered this without thinking, Kwon Yohan let out a hollow laugh and leaned his face closer.

–Aren’t you the one who made my body haggard, Senior?

During the frantic, busy periods, I would usually just wash up quickly and fall asleep upon arriving at the dorm, so there weren’t many opportunities for long conversations with him. However, we often exchanged brief greetings. But today, Kwon Yohan’s tone was sharper than any other day.

The atmosphere made it difficult to even jokingly ask why he had scammed me.

“You told me to *be* Kwon Yohan, and now something isn’t to your liking, it seems.”

I had merely stated what I felt, but perhaps thinking I was angry, he slightly hunched his shoulders and watched my reaction. Only when I offered a faint smile did he hesitantly open his mouth.

–It’s not that…

The boy confessed in a barely audible voice.

–I don’t particularly like seeing my face when I’m sick. It’s rather unsightly, isn’t it?

It was a difficult statement to readily understand. Being sick was simply being sick, and looking disheveled was a natural consequence. Kwon Yohan’s words sounded as if he felt ashamed to show such a state to others. I’d noticed it before, but did he have some kind of complex?

Still, it would have been better if he’d told the members. The way they had acted over the past few days made it even harder to shake that thought.

To someone whose self-esteem had already plummeted, saying ‘that’s not true’ was closer to violence than comfort. It would likely provoke a rebellious ‘What do you know?’ and even if not, it would clearly foster distrust.

Therefore, I decided not to offer words of consolation.

“Really? I wouldn’t know.”

–Oh, please. What would you know?

He quickly grumbled, his demeanor loosening.

“More importantly, it looks like we’ll be on a deserted island for a few days. Will it be okay? They’re leaving early tomorrow morning.”

“A deserted island?” Yohan asked, his eyes wide, before bursting into laughter.

–Go. Definitely go. My mom would faint if she knew.

“I don’t make a habit of making other people’s mothers faint. Are you sure it’s okay?”

Even though I had already decided to go, seeing Kwon Yohan insist so vehemently, as if something terrible would happen if I didn’t, made me quite uneasy.

…Well, they said I could leave early if something happened. It should be fine.

****

The reality program they were filming this time, ‘Show Me Your Mild Side!’, was scheduled to air as an eight-episode series after four days and three nights of shooting. The title was chosen, they said, to capture a friendly side of HEX, who were known for their intense and fierce image. Lee Seon had made such a fuss about going to a deserted island that I thought it was one, but it was actually an inhabited island with a sparse population.

Because we departed at dawn, the other members were leaning back in their seats, listening to music or sleeping, resting. Lee Seon, however, rustled a bag of snacks and peered around outside like a child on a picnic.

“Ah, a rest stop!”

The vehicle, to his embarrassment, did not stop but swiftly passed the turn-off for the rest stop. A camera staff member smiled and comforted the dejected Lee Seon.

“The ferry only runs twice a day, so it would be a big problem if we were late. We’ll let you stop on the way back.”

The impact of those words was profound. *Where exactly are they taking us?*

“Mr. Yohan, I heard you were sick? The talk kept changing yesterday about whether you’d film or not. You must have been really sick. Your face is so pale.”

The staff member spoke to me, too, even though my eyes were wide awake, far from sleepy, due to having slept so much while bedridden. Was this meant as a casual friendly remark, or was he subtly hinting that he thought my illness might disrupt filming? I vaguely answered with a laugh, when Lee Seon suddenly grabbed my hand and rolled up my sleeve.

“He’s originally pale. Look at this.”

The staff member, seizing the opportunity, filmed Lee Seon holding his own arm next to mine for comparison.

“You don’t tan in summer either, do you?”

“Huh? Oh… yeah, I guess not.”

Summer. Kwon Yohan. A strange feeling suddenly arose, and upon reflection, there was indeed something peculiar. Lee Seon was speaking as if he hadn’t experienced Kwon Yohan during the summer.

Their debut was in January this year, so when exactly did Kwon Yohan join?

Unable to ask anyone, I could only gaze out the window, silently pondering my bewilderment. Perhaps I was overthinking it. If one was cooped up in a practice room preparing for debut, it was easy for their life to become disconnected from the seasons.

After disembarking from the chartered bus, I thought we were done after taking one ferry, but then we had to take another. We had our luggage inspected in front of the pier.

“Jihyuk and Seung-beom, clear.”

Lee Seon tried to hide the snacks he’d brought in his arms but was caught and had them all confiscated. Beside the boy, who was protesting his unfair treatment, Han Doyoung confidently opened his thermos and slurped down its contents.

“Doyoung! What’s that?”

When the PD asked, Han Doyoung answered nonchalantly.

“Fish cake soup.”

Then he offered it to me, asking, “Want some?” Inside the thermos was a perfectly prepared fish cake soup, complete with radish, konjac, and even quail eggs.

“No… you eat a lot, hyung…”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Lee Seon then bustled forward, reaching out, saying he would eat it, but unfortunately, before he could drink a single drop of broth, the staff confiscated the thermos. Meanwhile, Han Doyoung, who had all his cup noodles, fossilized among his clothes, also confiscated, rubbed his stomach with a displeased expression.

“Still, it’s nice to have something warm in my belly.”

All the staff members stared at him with expressions of utter disbelief. But he didn’t seem to care in the slightest.