A Childish Jealousy

Son Yoonjae gazed into his coffee cup, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Lee Seon seemed to realize, belatedly, that his question had been a difficult one, but the words were already out. As only the crackling of the fire filled the air, the production crew, seated some distance away, watched with sparkling eyes.

‘They must have brought HEX and Son Yoonjae together to create this exact scenario,’ I thought. Their intentions were transparent.

However, after a brief pause, Son Yoonjae lifted his head, his face devoid of any shadow of worry. In fact, he appeared relieved, like someone who had resolved a deep internal conflict.

“Of course, I want to,” he affirmed.

His tone was resolute.

“It’s not immediately feasible, but the members also want it,” he continued. “If our circumstances align, I’d like to reunite anytime. There are realistic hurdles, of course, like reclaiming the trademark rights and the fact that we’re all under different agencies now.”

I had anticipated he would have lingering regrets, having poured his entire being into the team. Yet, I hadn’t expected him to have such detailed plans, ready to spring into action if even the slightest opportunity arose.

As if possessed, I found myself interjecting.

“If you can’t get the group name back, you could always change it,” I suggested.

My voice, rougher than usual, was undeniably closer to my true manner of speaking. Fortunately, Son Yoonjae didn’t seem to notice anything amiss; he simply nodded, offering his thoughts.

“Exactly,” he agreed. “Honestly, as long as the members remain the same, I still consider us the same group, even if we change the name or format. But I’d prefer to get it back if possible. It was a group name none of us liked at first, but it grew on us over time.”

‘He’s putting it mildly because he’s Son Yoonjae,’ I mused. When the group name was first decided, some members even stormed into the CEO’s office to protest, claiming it sounded like a “dark flame dragon” was about to run wild. It certainly had a juvenile feel to it.

“Still, it’s a relief,” Lee Seon said. “If you had quit the entertainment industry entirely, you wouldn’t even be having these thoughts now.”

“You were going to quit?!” Lee Seon exclaimed.

To Son Yoonjae’s calm revelation, Lee Seon responded with a look of utter disbelief.

“Originally, I planned to quit and get a regular job,” Son Yoonjae explained. “If I hadn’t met Kwon Yohan, I’d probably be an office worker right now. Or maybe not—the job market is so brutal these days, I might still be unemployed.”

“That would have been a monumental loss for the history of Korean popular music…” Lee Seon murmured.

Lee Seon blurted out whatever came to mind. ‘His attitude has been strange for a while,’ I thought. ‘Has he become a Son Yoonjae fan?’ Son Yoonjae, blushing with embarrassment, simply laughed.

“Anyway, I plan to discuss the reunion with Jio once he wakes up,” Son Yoonjae said.

“…He’s still unconscious, then?” Lee Seon asked softly.

“Until I spoke with his mother last week… Ah! Jio is…” Son Yoonjae began.

Realizing he shouldn’t be discussing a matter known only to us, Son Yoonjae urgently glanced around, attempting to add an explanation. Unexpectedly, Han Doyoung spoke up.

“I know,” Han Doyoung stated. “He’s your main dancer.”

‘He knows me?’ I thought, surprised.

“But what does ‘unconscious’ mean? Is he sick?” Han Doyoung pressed.

Son Yoonjae carefully chose his words, explaining the mysterious circumstances surrounding Jio. He described how Jio had lost consciousness after a car accident and hadn’t woken up, despite his body showing no physical abnormalities.

“What a strange thing to happen,” Han Doyoung remarked.

“Right? Word leaked through the medical staff, and now we’re even getting requests for interviews,” Son Yoonjae replied.

This was news to me.

Han Doyoung grumbled for a while, annoyed at the unknown people bothering someone who was ill. Once he had calmed down somewhat, he subtly glanced at me and asked.

“But how do *he* and *this one* know each other?” Han Doyoung inquired.

“Well… I said we met at an acrobatics academy, didn’t I?” I said, deflecting.

‘He still remembers that flimsy excuse,’ I thought. With no other option, I nodded. Han Doyoung’s lips curled into a wry smile.

“Such ambition, honestly,” Han Doyoung muttered.

Han Doyoung stared at the bonfire, lost in thought, before his expression shifted to one of sudden realization, and he spoke.

“Ah, so that’s why your dance styles are similar? Did you get lessons from Jio and suddenly improve so much?”

“So I wasn’t the only one who noticed,” Son Yoonjae chimed in. “I had the same thought watching HEX’s performance videos. If I had to describe it, it’s like a softer version of Jio’s style?”

As Son Yoonjae echoed his sentiment, Han Doyoung seemed to reach a definitive conclusion.

“But how do you know our group, Doyoung? We really weren’t well-known,” Son Yoonjae asked.

“Because you’re good. That’s why,” Han Doyoung stated simply.

How common was it to find an idol as skilled as a trainer? A subtle hint of regret colored his gruff tone.

“Maybe I should try acrobatics too?” Han Doyoung mumbled, smacking his lips.

Despite being on a broadcast shoot ostensibly for relaxation, it seemed his passion switch had been flipped. It was a commendable ambition, to be sure.

Son Yoonjae remained at the heart of the smoothly flowing conversation.

Lee Seon, as expected, seemed to be a fan, and Choi Seung-beom also appeared to have several questions for the former main vocalist. Son Yoonjae diligently answered each inquiry. As a result, the coffee he had prepared earlier remained untouched, growing cold.

By the time they were ready to disperse, a comfortable atmosphere had naturally settled, with everyone speaking informally. However, one person had been unable to join in since the beginning.

“…What is it?” I asked.

It was Yoon Jihyuk, who had, at some point, taken the seat beside me.

“Sleepy,” he mumbled.

He leaned against me, his eyes half-closed. His demeanor suggested he was isolated in this space, as if he neither saw nor heard anything.

His speech was slurred, as if he were drunk. Yet, I knew he wasn’t. The alcohol he’d consumed with dinner, from what I’d observed, amounted to no more than a single can of beer.

“Let’s go to bed, Yohan,” he said.

Son Yoonjae, unaware of the obviously fake act, looked at Yoon Jihyuk in surprise.

“Oh, is he drunk?” he wondered aloud.

Yoon Jihyuk didn’t respond, merely lifting his gaze slightly to meet my eyes. Son Yoonjae, flustered, quickly called the other members.

“Jihyuk seems drunk,” he announced. “Let’s quickly divide up the rooms.”

“I don’t wanna…” Yoon Jihyuk slurred.

His pronunciation was so slurred it was almost unintelligible. While I didn’t understand *why* he was acting this way, I had a pretty good idea of what he wanted. I swallowed a sigh and raised a hand.

“I’ll share a room with him,” I offered. “The rest of you can divide up the remaining rooms.”

“Are you sure about that?” Son Yoonjae asked.

Instead of answering, I simply nodded.

“Can you take him to the room by yourself?” Choi Seung-beom inquired.

Choi Seung-beom stepped forward, seemingly offering to help, but I curtly refused. He then offered to help clean up instead, an offer I did not decline.

Announcing that I would rest first, I dragged Yoon Jihyuk inside. Even Lee Seon, despite the room assignments, was helping with the cleanup.

****

“Put some strength in your legs and walk properly,” I instructed.

Once we reached an area out of sight from outside, I gently pushed Yoon Jihyuk. He readily raised his hands and stepped back.

“What’s the problem?” I asked.

He remained silent.

I lowered my voice as I spoke.

“Do you dislike Son Yoonjae? Even if you do, isn’t it a bit too obvious, especially during filming?”

“It’s fine, I’ll just act like I’m drunk when we leave,” he replied. “I treated him properly earlier today, didn’t I?”

“Huh…” I exhaled.

So, it *was* true that he disliked him.

How could anyone dislike such a foolishly kind person? I simply couldn’t comprehend it. I desperately tried to clear my mind as I ascended the stairs.

We unpacked in the room farthest from the stairs. After a quick shower and getting ready for bed, I found Yoon Jihyuk staring at me with a sullen expression.

“Are you mad?” he asked.

“Excuse me?” I responded.

“You haven’t said a word,” he pointed out.

‘Am I mad?’

Yes. I was disappointed and angry.

I had never particularly wished for the two of them to get along exceptionally well. Nor had I ever anticipated they would even meet, let alone interact like this today.

“Yohan, is Son Yoonjae that important to you?” he asked.

That was also true. Our friendship, spanning nearly a decade, was incredibly strong. He was my friend, my family, my comrade. However, Yoon Jihyuk’s assumption was slightly off.

I wasn’t angry because Yoon Jihyuk had shown baseless animosity towards someone important to me. Well, that played a part, certainly, but it wasn’t the whole truth.

“What does that matter?” I retorted. “You’re the one who acted like a child.”

I had believed we had grown close, that I understood him properly. It was his behavior, so contrary to my expectations, that had left me disappointed.

It felt as though the ‘good person’ I had perceived him to be had vanished.

“Let’s hear your reason, then,” I challenged. “Why do you dislike Son Yoonjae?”

Yoon Jihyuk hesitated before finally speaking.

“I’m your leader, aren’t I?” he mumbled. “Why are you closer to the leader of a defunct team?”

As he spoke, he seemed to realize how absurd he sounded; the man, usually so shameless, flushed slightly. I felt a little deflated.

“Hyung, just because we’re on the same team doesn’t mean you get to control my relationships,” I stated.

Naturally, Yoon Jihyuk had no reply.

He remained silent, appearing confused, until a long moment passed, and he suddenly stood up. It was probably around the time the others, having finished cleaning up, would be settling down for bed. Outside, silence reigned.

“Sorry,” he said. “Sleep well on your own.”

With that, Yoon Jihyuk left without waiting for a reply, taking only his pillow with him.

Lying in the silent room, staring at the ceiling, the emotions that had been tightly constricted in my throat spilled forth. I replayed the day in my mind. Yoon Jihyuk hadn’t disliked Son Yoonjae from the start.

‘He was wary of anyone who seemed close to Kwon Yohan,’ I realized.

My heart felt heavy, as if I had unnecessarily overreacted and disheartened him. At the same time, I found myself questioning his behavior. To feel such negative emotions just because someone close to him appeared close to another person…

‘Isn’t that the kind of feeling children get when they see their friend with another friend?’

‘Unless…’

“…Surely not.”

A strange thought began to surface.