The Two-Faced Shadow

The place where Jae-in and Jun-o agreed to meet was a lounge inside the YL Entertainment headquarters. YL was one of the rising powerhouse agencies, bolstered by massive Chinese capital, and true to its reputation, the interior facilities were incredibly luxurious.

‘As expected, a big company is different. Even Jun-o Hyung’s styling looks way better than before.’

Thinking this, Jae-in pulled his ball cap down even lower. Perhaps due to the recent scandal, the attention from others—which he usually enjoyed—now felt like a crushing burden. Even though there wasn’t a soul around in this part of the building, the habit of hiding had already taken root.

Seeing Jae-in like this, Jun-o spoke in a calm, soothing voice.

“I called you here just to be safe. This floor is a private area—only affiliated artists and key staff can enter.”

“Is it really okay for me to be here? It feels a bit weird for an idol from another agency to be wandering around.”

“Don’t worry. When I told them I was meeting you, my PD gave me clearance. If we met outside, reporters might have followed us.”

“You’re right, this is much better. YL is really something else. This isn’t a lounge; it looks like an art gallery. It’s insane.”

“Hey, are company facilities everything? I’m the one who’s envious of you for debuting so early.”

“Envious of what? You said your debut is confirmed, too. And as a soloist, no less. Being a rookie soloist in this climate means the company is going to pour everything into you, right? Besides, a big agency is always better. Look at my company. All they can do is tell me to keep my mouth shut and wait.”

Jun-o sent a look of deep sympathy toward the dejected Jae-in. True to his reputation for putting others first, he looked genuinely pained to see his close younger brother suffering.

“I was shocked when I heard the news about Enheim. I have no idea how such ridiculous rumors started.”

“That’s just the life of an idol, I guess. Even if you do nothing wrong, you get dragged into things by bad luck. Still, I knew you’d believe that I didn’t do those things, Hyung.”

“I haven’t seen everything, but it clearly didn’t look like your style. I didn’t think you were the type to secretly make a private account anyway.”

“Exactly! When I had counseling at the company before, they said I can’t hide my emotions, so if I’m frustrated, I should write it down in a private diary instead. I’ve done that, but I’ve never secretly talked shit behind people’s backs on SNS!”

Jae-in’s words began to speed up as the sense of injustice surged again. Because he felt comfortable with Jun-o, he poured out all the emotions he had been suppressing lately.

He told Jun-o everything.

How immature the younger members were, how much he struggled in the unfitting position of leader and eldest, and how he couldn’t bring himself to trust his agency for various reasons.

“Seriously, I’ve been so annoyed. I can’t give you all the details, but… this whole incident is basically the company completely ignoring me. I don’t even know if those kids realize they’re idols. And the company just screams at me, saying it’s my fault as a leader for not managing them.”

“I don’t know why they’d act like that after working so hard to become idols. Maybe the company relies on you because you’re the dependable type?”

“I don’t know. Looking back, I’m glad your request to audition for our company didn’t work out. It’s a total mess. …Sigh, I finally meet you after a long time and all I did was talk about myself.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know you’re going through a lot. If anything, I’m sorry I can’t do more to help. It feels bad to say this, but my agency actually told me to keep my distance from you for a while. I had to convince them to let me have this meeting.”

“What? …YL said that? Then shouldn’t I leave right now? Sorry, I had no idea.”

“Ah, I’m not saying we should part ways immediately. I just meant that since we finally met, I wanted to at least listen to your troubles.”

As Jun-o looked troubled for having mentioned it, Jae-in remembered the real reason he had made this difficult trip today—and the favor he had intended to ask.

‘I wanted to at least prove that during the Pentagram debut days, Ji-ho Hyung and the three of us were really close, and that we still get along.’

If he couldn’t prove the scandalous account wasn’t his, he wanted to at least definitively correct the narrative regarding his fractured relationship with Ji-ho—one of the main reasons he was suspected of being the account owner. Although things were currently awkward with Ji-ho, he wanted to show their past closeness to argue that he had no reason to badmouth someone he followed like a real brother.

Jae-in had planned to take a photo of him hanging out with Jun-o and post it with a calculated, slightly fake caption: ‘Reminiscing about the old days. Sad that Ji-ho Hyung is missing from 3J. Get well soon and come back, Hyung.’ Even though it stung his conscience to be performative, it was the only move he felt he had left.

And who knows? Maybe seeing that fake excuse might even prompt Ji-ho to reach out.

“Hyung, the reason I asked to meet today was…”

“I know. The old debut team stories are being brought up again, right? My company monitors public opinion regarding their artists very closely. They’ve been keeping a close eye on things ever since my name came up during the Pentagram accident. You were going to ask for a favor related to that, weren’t you?”

“Yeah… You’re the victim here, but I’ve made you worry about the past again because of me. Even after you made that difficult request last time.”

After being kicked out of the Pentagram debut lineup, Jun-o had vanished, even from Jae-in. It was only earlier this year that Jae-in had managed to get back in touch with him.

The two had shared a long conversation over a few beers, marveling at how fast time had flown now that Jae-in was old enough to drink. They had felt a bittersweet sting watching Pentagram’s sudden rise to fame. Naturally, the hidden events of the past came up. Jae-in, still curious about the real reason Jun-o was expelled, had asked him about it again.

That day, Jun-o had given a bitter smile and made a request.

‘I’m sorry, but could you stop being curious about what happened back then? Star Ent even contacted me recently. I don’t know if they wanted to apologize or offer a new opportunity, but I just ignored it. …That’s how much I want a fresh start now. If you keep asking about the past, I’ll never be able to escape being “Kim Jun-o, the trainee who was unilaterally kicked out.”’

Jun-o hadn’t shed a single tear then, but he looked as if he were still deeply wounded. In that moment, Jae-in had vowed never to mention Pentagram in front of Jun-o again.

But now, the guilt of shamelessly wanting to bring up the past just to save himself weighed heavily on him. Asking for help from Jun-o—who had finally found a great opportunity at YL and wanted a fresh start—felt like too much of a burden to impose.

This was especially true after Jun-o spoke, showing he understood Jae-in’s desperation.

“No. You must have been in so much pain to come find me. I’ll think about if there’s anything I can do to help Enheim. Remember how hard you tried to help me when I was struggling? It always weighed on me that I cut contact with you because I was having a hard time. My company might not like it… but you’re the younger brother I treasure the most.”

“N-No, it’s okay. Thinking about it now, if you get involved, it might just spark more bad rumors. Plus, your debut is right around the corner; what if you get on your agency’s bad side? Just having you listen to me today was enough.”

“I’m even more grateful to hear you say that. You really are a kind kid, Jae-in. Your members are just acting out because they’re young; they’ll realize how you feel and follow you soon. If you wait a bit longer, this will all be resolved.”

“Yeah…”

In the end, Jae-in couldn’t bring himself to say that the real owner of the account was Ra-min, or that his own member had framed him. Under Jun-o’s warm, supportive gaze, Jae-in could only remain silent.

His previous resolve—that unlike Ji-ho, he would never be pushed out—vanished without a trace.

“We finally met, it’s a shame to say goodbye so soon. Since we can’t go anywhere else, I’ll go down to the first-floor cafe and grab some drinks. Let’s talk a bit more while we drink those.”

“Okay. But aren’t you managing your weight? You said you’re going on an audition program for promotion. If you just drink anything, you’ll look fat on camera.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll just work out twice as much.”

Responding with a smile to Jae-in’s playful jab, Jun-o left the lounge. Left alone, Jae-in’s mind was a mess. He wavered, wondering if he was really doing the right thing by giving up on his request and going home.

But no matter how he looked at it, it was right not to rip open Jun-o’s wounds any further. Even if Jun-o granted his unreasonable favor, he wasn’t even sure how much it would actually help resolve the controversy.

Actually, he already knew the best way. If he wanted to prove his relationship with Ji-ho was still good, it would be faster to contact Ji-ho directly.

“Even so, Yoon Jae-in… does it make sense to ask Pentagram for help?”

Setting aside his pride, it just didn’t make sense. He could vividly remember how he’d acted every time he ran into Pentagram. He remembered exactly how he had intentionally snarked at and ignored Ji-ho, the easiest target.

Even without bad blood, there was no reason for a competing group to help another. Besides, hadn’t Pentagram just barely managed to quiet their own storm?

Jae-in let out a deep sigh of despair. No matter how much he struggled, it felt like he was only making useless attempts.

“Jun-o Hyung must be incredibly busy too, I’m being such a nuisance. He said filming starts soon. Phew… should I just go?”

Returning to the dorm meant facing the Enheim members who would pick fights saying the group was being cursed because of him, and a manager who would scold him for leaving the dorm. But it seemed better than sitting uncomfortably inside another agency’s building.

He also worried that if a YL employee saw him, it might cause trouble for Jun-o. Even with a confirmed debut, it was the kind of industry where things could collapse at the finish line for no reason at all. Jae-in knew exactly how desperate Jun-o was, given this was his last chance.

‘Right. I’ll just find Jun-o Hyung, say goodbye, and leave.’

Jae-in made up his mind and stood up.

“That Yoon Jae-in guy is seriously unbelievable. I wonder what kind of favor he came here to ask. He should clean up his own mess himself.”

He never, in his wildest dreams, imagined that he was about to witness the true face of the Jun-o he trusted so much.