The Price of Performance

Yet, the euphoria left a bitter aftertaste. The pieces were beginning to fall into place. I started to understand what he truly desired, that person who, while easily readable on the surface, never revealed their deepest thoughts. Putting aside the fact that he had delivered a performance so spectacular Kwon Yohan couldn’t even dream of it…

“Yohan, it’s time to get ready to go out.”

Yoon Jihyuk, who had been monitoring the stage, gently clasped my shoulder as he spoke. On the screen, Han Doyoung was in the midst of a performance with a clear narrative, using a solo song he had released during his pre-debut days.

A song that once embodied a fierce determination to rise above his rivals now carried the nuance of a rampaging tyrant. The raw, grating vocals, far more intense than the original track, conveyed an almost palpable madness.

His dark red robe billowed wildly, mirroring his fervent movements.

“Ha.”

Such an intense concept could easily devolve into ridicule if mishandled. Yet, Han Doyoung moved across the stage with wild, gleaming eyes, as if he had been born solely to master this song.

Lee Seon, who had been watching the screen open-mouthed beside Yoon Jihyuk, shook his head. He seemed to be thinking how fortunate it was that he wasn’t performing with him.

“It’s Han Doyoung… but why is he so cool?”

He even blurted out such an absurd remark.

There was no time to delay. Before the first verse concluded, I hurriedly moved into position within the stage apparatus, for I, too, had a role in this song.

As the second verse began, lights illuminated a mechanism reminiscent of a shadow puppet theater. This was the segment where Han Doyoung, now fully revealed on stage, and I, visible only as a shadow, performed interconnected movements.

The apparatus obstructed our view of each other. However, I was certain that the precision with which we had aligned every minute angle would be evident in the later video. I was performing well, and I knew he would be too.

Soon, a voice spoke out as if from a nightmare. The lyrics continued, depicting a conflict with someone interpreted as an alternate self: “You will never consume me.”

A powerful, almost roaring voice. Then, with movements that suggested he was being forcibly dragged by someone, Han Doyoung entered my space. A brief blackout followed.

When the lights returned, the apparatus had been removed, revealing both Han Doyoung and me on stage. Simultaneously, a thunderous roar erupted, shaking the very floor.

The euphoria, previously veiled in mist, now awakened.

As the next song began, Han Doyoung and I were connected by a long strap of cloth, roughly three fingers wide. It had originally been planned as a rope, but was changed for being ‘too much,’ though the final visual was ultimately better.

Han Doyoung in dark red attire. Kwon Yohan in white, accented with sky blue.

The choreography, designed with alternating positions where one seemed to drag the other, was intricately woven, making it impossible to focus on just one performer.

The concept depicted the conflict between a self that shuns and fears negative emotions, likening them to ‘camellias,’ and a self that insists on acceptance and endurance. The interpretation, however, was for the audience to decide.

Even viewed purely as a performance, it was an immensely enjoyable stage.

After a fierce struggle, the latter self emerged victorious, a role that was mine. The performance concluded with me taking a section of the unentangled cloth, using it to gently cover the eyes of the kneeling Han Doyoung, despite our intense movements.

As the stage descended, Han Doyoung was smiling with an expression of utter satisfaction.

“You’re so damn beautiful.”

He even added such nonsense.

I had no energy left to reprimand him. I was too busy trying to catch my ragged breath, and all my focus was consumed by dragging my half-collapsed, rubbery legs.

Backstage, the moment our eyes met, Lee Seon rushed over, pushing up my cheek with his palm and fussing dramatically.

“What is this? Kwon Yohan, what are you doing? Are you aiming to be the main dancer?”

“Hey, your makeup.”

‘What are you doing, messing up my makeup? We still have a group song left,’ I tried to say, but the words were broken by a fit of coughing. Then I realized I could barely feel the ground beneath my feet, as if I were walking on clouds.

Just then, my eyes met Yoon Jihyuk’s.

“Yohan…”

I couldn’t show any sign that my energy was utterly depleted. I hastily grabbed my change of clothes and fled behind a partition. Yet, my hands trembled so much I couldn’t undo the knot on the garment, even though it wasn’t tied that tightly.

All I needed to do was remove my current top and slip on the merchandise T-shirt. Why was this simple task proving impossible? Frustration welled within me.

Time. There wasn’t enough time.

“Time to go on stage! Where is Yohan-ssi?”

After the hurried staff member’s words, a brief silence fell. Soon, footsteps approached, direct and deliberate, careful not to echo out of turn.

“I asked you before. If you were really okay.”

Yoon Jihyuk, his face shadowed, murmured lowly before snatching the T-shirt from my arm. Then, without a change in his expression, he effortlessly lied.

“Yohan is injured, he can’t go on.”

“What?”

Calming the flustered staff member, he gave instructions without hesitation, as if he had anticipated such a situation.

“We’ll revise it like this… and go on immediately.”

Yoon Jihyuk would cover more than 80 percent of my part.

“Rest.”

His voice was dry and resolute, leaving no room for argument.

****

‘Mom! I want to swim too!’

It was the voice of a young child, trying hard to speak clearly, yet with a subtle lisp. A woman, elegantly dressed and clearly of refined background, gazed at the child with a look of pity. Their striking resemblance suggested she was the child’s mother.

‘Must you do it?’

‘Yes!’

Beside the mother stood a boy who appeared to be a middle school student. He spoke with an irritable tone.

‘Wouldn’t it be better to just let them try once, rather than having them throw a tantrum and collapse again?’

‘Even so…’

‘We shouldn’t have come to the beach in the first place.’

The child’s face instantly clouded over. The mother hesitated for a long moment, watching the child, before speaking with an air of resolution.

‘Alright, Yohan. But you mustn’t go into the deep water, alright?’

‘Hey, go with them and stay by their side,’ she added. As if expecting it, the boy, not bothering to hide his annoyance, followed closely beside the child.

Though the child had claimed they wanted to swim, having never learned, they simply floated idly on the water in a tube. They occasionally kicked their feet, but barely moved.

Perhaps it wasn’t as fun as they had expected, for the child looked a little downcast. The boy let out a deep sigh, then grabbed the child’s tube and pulled them around.

After playing with the child for a while, the boy noticed his mother watching them anxiously. The child looked up at his furrowed brow with an uneasy expression.

‘You’re the one who wanted to come.’

The child couldn’t answer. The boy muttered, ‘Just as I thought.’

‘Because of you, Mom keeps bothering me.’

Faced with such overt hostility, the child could offer no response.

The boy then pulled the tube back, taking the child to where his mother sat under a parasol. To his mother’s question, ‘Are you back already?’ he replied with an unconcerned expression.

‘They seemed tired, so I brought them back.’

The mother praised the boy, calling him a good older brother.

After settling the child in the shade, the two adults continued their conversation.

‘You have no idea how much Yohan wanted to see you. Couldn’t you come visit sometimes, even if it’s a bit difficult?’

‘Mom, how much time does it take just to fly back and forth? I barely made time today.’

‘…Even so.’

‘Please just leave Haeun alone too. Forcing them together won’t make them close when they find it annoying. You don’t even properly take care of either of us, so why do you expect us to take care of the child?’

‘I don’t even see them as a sibling.’ At his chilling words, the mother’s face instantly darkened.

‘Then? If not a sibling, what do you see them as?’

‘A pet you brought home without consulting the family.’

The distinction between ‘pet’ and ‘companion animal’ was meaningless. The mother buried her face in her hands, groaning. Despair seemed to pour down upon her.

‘Yes. It’s all my fault.’

The boy offered no reassurance that it wasn’t.

To avoid the person in front of him, his gaze drifted sideways, falling upon the shaded spot where the child lay. The boy soon realized the child wasn’t asleep, for their large eyes blinked rapidly. It was conspicuous, like a lightbulb on the verge of flickering out.

‘Don’t get up,’ the boy mouthed silently. The child pressed their lips together and nodded.

****

“Why do concerts have to be on weekends?”

Han Doyoung muttered something absurd, tearing at his own hair.

“It’s fine. We can just go to the emergency room.”

Yoon Jihyuk’s face, as he said this, was also a mess.

Was the decision to drive to the nearest hospital, rather than waiting for an ambulance, truly the best course of action? The members, having just finished their performance, hadn’t even properly removed their stage makeup.

Han Doyoung, having thoroughly pulled at his hair, bowed his head and murmured.

“I’m sorry, hyung.”

“For what?”

“For being stubborn.”

“How is that your fault?”

Assigning blame now was meaningless. Yoon Jihyuk, a bitter expression on his face, turned his gaze towards the window.

The manager, gnawing fiercely at his fingernails, drove the car roughly. Fans might have rushed to the parking lot to see them off or even followed them – was that truly alright? Normally, someone would have intervened, but now, no one tried to stop his reckless driving.

Even so, they arrived at the hospital in an instant.

“Uh…”

Among the members, who were hesitating, unsure how to speak, Choi Seung-beom, who had remained silent throughout, finally opened his mouth.

“I understand he has a heart condition.”

Gasps of shock erupted from various corners.