The Weight of Attachment

The next morning, Yoon Jihyuk’s demeanor changed as if by magic. He rose slowly as Lee Seon fussed, his face looking even more exhausted than when I had last seen him the previous night, as if he hadn’t slept a wink.

“Oh, Leader, did you sleep on the sofa?”

“Uh-huh… I guess so. Yohan kicked me out, saying I smelled of alcohol.”

“Wow, I didn’t think Kwon Yohan was that cold-hearted.”

‘Isn’t that guy a fraud? He didn’t even drink enough to reek of alcohol, and wasn’t he the first one to come in and even shower?’

Son Yoonjae, who was presumed to have shared a room with Lee Seon, glanced at Yoon Jihyuk with a worried expression. He seemed concerned, even though Yoon Jihyuk was the one who had said yesterday that he seemed to dislike him.

“Should I get you some honey water? There’s a convenience store a little further out.”

Indeed, Yoon Jihyuk’s gloomy face, assuming one believed his lie, could easily be mistaken for a severe hangover. Yoon Jihyuk let out a small laugh and shook his head.

“It’s fine.”

Though there was no significant change in his expression or tone, the prickly discomfort I’d felt yesterday had vanished. Son Yoonjae, somewhat flustered, could only nod in response.

This was a welcome change. I could spend the next two days with peace of mind.

Yet, it was too soon to fully relax. There were still lingering concerns, and to simply dismiss it as a change of heart seemed… too much of a loss of energy, didn’t it?

“Leader.”

As I approached and softly called him, Yoon Jihyuk slowly blinked, looking up at me. I cupped his cheeks in my hands and gently squeezed.

“Go back to sleep.”

“Okay…”

Yoon Jihyuk, his face crestfallen, hugged a pillow and lay down. His eyes, peeking out over the pillow that half-covered his face, glistened with a dewy sheen.

‘Hmm, this is an act. He’s putting on a show of being pitiful, just because I gave him a little sympathy.’

****

The three who were on clean-up duty last night were now on cooking duty this morning. Having eaten a very heavy dinner, they opted for a light, late breakfast and were in the midst of making sandwiches.

With no real need for division of labor, Han Doyoung sat at the dining table, observing the scene.

Han Doyoung rested his chin in his hand, murmuring as he watched me chop onions.

“You can even handle a knife.”

‘What exactly does he think of me?’

Son Yoonjae, having prepared and brought over the ingredients that needed cooking, took one of the remaining chairs. He moved his hands busily as he subtly inquired.

“It seems Kwon Yohan and Yoon Jihyuk are truly close, aren’t they?”

Han Doyoung, finally feeling inclined to help at the last stage of wrapping, rolled up his sleeves and chuckled. To hear such a comment after only meeting them yesterday—he really has a knack for noticing the unusual.

Unlike Han Doyoung, who was clearly in the mood for teasing, Son Yoonjae’s demeanor was more cautious.

“It might sound strange coming from an outsider, but… how should I put it, an attachment? It seems like some kind of attachment has formed.”

“An attachment?”

“Like a chick looking for its mother bird. A feeling of anxiety when they’re not in sight? Dependence isn’t necessarily bad, but it made me a little worried.”

“Ah…”

Considering it that way, all their actions somewhat aligned. Yes, ‘jealousy’ wasn’t an emotion born only from such relationships.

“You’re quite perceptive.”

“Because it’s a process everyone goes through when they’re young?”

I knew what period he was referring to: when the future seemed bleak, immediate tasks felt overwhelming, and the world—save for the members by my side—felt like an enemy. It was the early days of debut, when I first experienced powerlessness.

“It’s okay to fall when you fall, but it’s not as easy as it sounds.”

Everyone naturally seeks a place to lean on when they feel anxious.

“With time, you’ll naturally find a healthy distance.”

Son Yoonjae spoke with a refreshing tone. His words, based on experiences he had overcome, held no falsehood. However, ‘time’ was the problem.

Regardless of how Yoon Jihyuk felt about me, the underlying dependence was an undeniable fact. ‘It was something that couldn’t be easily detached, something that didn’t permit intrusion from others…’

‘This won’t do. For someone who might leave at any moment, this attachment is excessively deep. Should I put some distance between us?’

My head throbbed.

****

The crew, having confirmed that filming would end tomorrow morning, devoured their sandwiches and then launched into a competitive ‘dojang 깨기’ (conquering challenges) as if their lives depended on playing right now.

After a grueling session of playing ping-pong like madmen, running the karaoke machine for about three hours, and then playing billiards with equal ferocity, they finally headed to the rooftop, eager to fully enjoy the long-awaited swimming pool.

I had only one thing to say to these guys.

“Play a little more gently…”

Perhaps because it wasn’t a broadcast extracting as many episodes as ‘Good Island,’ and thus the pressure for content wasn’t immense, the production team merely smiled and occasionally offered remarks like, ‘Don’t concentrate too hard! If you concentrate, the audio goes silent!’

Perhaps due to a dream, I found the swimming pool quite off-putting and didn’t go in. Instead, I sat on a chair set up nearby, watching the guys play games they’d invented.

Son Yoonjae, who had been thoroughly enjoying himself amidst the 20 and 22-year-olds, at some point drifted away from the group, floating aimlessly. ‘He’s going to be sore tomorrow. Why can’t he just take it easy?’

However, my gaze didn’t linger long. The guy next to me kept doing things to grab my attention.

“…What is that?”

“A tube.”

It was a ridiculously cute tube with character patterns, inflated to the brim as if it had just been filled with air. I had no idea where he’d found it or brought it from.

“It seems like it would suit you. Want to use it?”

“…Are you telling me to go in there?”

“I’m saying we should go in together.”

He wasn’t genuinely suggesting it; it was merely a ploy to strike up a conversation. After all, he knew perfectly well that neither of us had bought swimsuits.

Listening to this guy’s slightly unhinged remarks all day had left my mind muddled.

“If you’re tired, go inside and sleep.”

“I’ll go in if Yohan comes with me.”

At this point, I couldn’t help but realize it, even if I didn’t want to. The very idea of putting distance between us was fundamentally flawed.

From the start, I wasn’t the one seeking him out; he was the one sticking to me as if drawn by a magnet. It was something that could only happen if Yoon Jihyuk decided it, not me.

“Ha… Alright. Let’s go in.”

‘No, actually, that’s just an excuse. I couldn’t bring myself to harshly push him away because he was constantly on my mind.’

‘The thought of him being stuck alone in a corner, sinking, made anger surge within me, even though I’d never actually seen such a sight; it felt as real as if it were right before my eyes.’

“Huh? No, Yohan. I was just saying. The kids are all here, so I should watch them.”

‘This is driving me crazy.’

‘I’d been thinking complacently that I could take care of him while I was here, that I could immediately fill any gaping holes. This was clearly my mistake.’

‘Even after deciding to give him his life back, I hadn’t properly considered what would come after. I only realized this after hearing Son Yoonjae’s words yesterday.’

‘I had never even deeply contemplated the days I would live as ‘Lee Jio’ in the first place. Because it wasn’t an immediate problem?’

“Sigh…”

Having been detached from ‘Lee Jio’s’ life for a while, I could view it with a somewhat objective perspective. I had been overwhelmed.

Facing the reality of being 27 years old, with no career to speak of, burdened only by debt, and thrown into the world. It wasn’t as if the future would disappear just by focusing on the present.

I had escaped and escaped in that manner, twisting things around my surroundings. I hadn’t properly considered the obvious truth that if someone leaves, someone else is left behind.

“Yohan, are you not feeling well?”

Yoon Jihyuk, perhaps thinking my silent, pensive state meant I was suddenly unwell, asked with a worried tone. His hand, which had been stroking my head for some time, was gentle.

At that moment, a strange impulse took hold of my body.

“No, I’m fine.”

‘What if I just told him everything? From beginning to end, everything. …I was just thinking.’

‘It might sound crazy right now, but Son Yoonjae is here too. There would be plenty of elements to make them believe me if I searched for them.’

‘When we return to the dorm tomorrow, I could even show him the real Kwon Yohan trapped in the mirror—what more explanation would be needed?’

‘To reveal everything, to expose myself, and then to ask. Even though I’m a nobody, a former idol with nothing, and the reality before me is harsh, my sincere wish was to hold you so you wouldn’t sink alone.’

‘I want to continue being someone you can lean on. This relationship started with a lie, but I hope it continues. What about you?’

“What are you thinking about so intensely?”

Yoon Jihyuk, oblivious to the turmoil within me, asked.

“…That thing yesterday, are you still upset about it?”

Thanks to that, I was able to snap out of my absurd hypothesis.

“You were still bothered by that? No wonder you kept trying to appease me.”

“Ah, was it that obvious?”

There were many complex reasons why Yoon Jihyuk could lean on me, but the genuine Kwon Yohan’s share in that could not be ignored. Being fellow members would have been a significant factor from the outset.

Moreover, forcing ‘Kwon Yohan’ to face him in that manner… ‘How would that be different from trying to force ill-fitting puzzle pieces together?’