Hajun stared at the box of fried chicken, watching the pieces left on the plate. He barely ate anything. But then again, this wasn’t the time to relax and enjoy drumsticks.
“So… you mean I… met you before?”
“Ah, yes… I guess you don’t remember…”
Setting aside Big Moon—who had in particular requested that name and hadn’t stopped talking long enough to take a single bite—Park Moondae was far from eating either, offering short questions between long pauses.
Then again, Hajun wasn’t in the mood to eat either.
“Um, I thought you already knew… since you arrived together…”
“Knew what?”
“You separated me back then. I mean, the Status Window…”
“Ah.”
“…Huh?”
Moondae turned to him, eyes asking for an explanation. Hajun offered a smooth, effortless smile before standing up from his seat. Moondae gave him a sharp glare that almost accused him of running away, but Hajun wasn’t running. He was giving them room to speak in comfort without an audience. Such were the manners of a proper adult in modern society. A conscience long since dormant stayed silent.
“Wrap up your talk. I’ll head down and wait in the car.”
“…”
“Huh? You’re leaving already…?”
“My business here is done.”
Moondae had probably figured it out by now. That was Hajun’s main goal from the start. Having confirmed that the body occupied by Big Moon held zero lingering traces of Ryu Gunwoo’s parents, Hajun reached the front door in three broad steps.
Big Moon called out as if a thought struck him all at once.
“U-Um! I’ll keep cheering for you! TeSTAR forever!”
“Hmm?”
Hajun paused, hand on the door handle. Come to think of it, he recalled the guy watching Idol Co-op as well. Maybe he was a genuine fanboy.
After a brief pause, Hajun turned and walked back toward Big Moon. Even inside Ryu Gunwoo’s tall frame, Big Moon had to tilt his head up at him. Intimidated by Hajun’s overwhelming presence, Big Moon stumbled over his words in panic.
“W-What is it…? Did I say something wrong…?”
“No, not that. Give me your hand.”
“My hand…? Eek!”
Interlocking his fingers with Big Moon’s, Hajun gave his hand a gentle shake. The exact gesture he used during fan sign events.
Releasing his hand a moment later, Hajun let a small smirk touch his lips.
“Fan service.”
“Gasp!”
Big Moon let out a sound like he might pass out, muttering wild, incoherent words. Phrases like “incredible” and “the number one idol Loviewers want to get entangled with” were all Hajun could make out.
Leaving behind the dazed fanboy and an utterly exasperated Park Moondae, Hajun made his exit. It took quite some time for Big Moon to regain his senses enough to hold a normal conversation, which proved quite a nuisance for Moondae.
Music drifted soft and low.
Hajun leaned back against the seat, chewing gum with a lazy expression as pop music played from the radio.
Drive without hesitation, I have a big engine and shiny headlights~
Taking his time. What was keeping him so long?
Not the steady type, but wild—That’s my middle name~
The impact on that fanboy’s heart ran deep. A long conversation meant a late ride home for Hajun, but there was little help for it. By the time Hajun blew thirty bubble rings and spat out the flavorless gum, Moondae appeared at last.
“Took you long enough!”
“…Whose fault do you think that was…?”
“Did the talk go well?”
“Yeah.”
…Thanks to you. Hajun didn’t miss the faint mutter added at the end. Telling him to fasten his seatbelt, Hajun pulled the car into motion.
The radio kept playing. The short playlist looped back to Phil Garcia’s Drive It.
Drive it, drive it through those stars and lights~
A fitting track for the moment. Crossing through the center of Seoul toward the estate, the sun began its slow dip below the horizon. Streetlights flickered to life one by one, and as darkness settled, the city gleamed with bright lights.
That sight makes me live again today, the light of the city…
A somewhat dreamlike scene. Hajun preferred to stay clear of sentimental moods, yet he knew a moment like this could offer a gentle push forward. So he spoke up. The timing felt right.
“Sorry.”
“For what?”
“You didn’t get to see your parents. Because of me—”
“…Drop it.”
Moondae stole a glance at Hajun, who had gone quiet all of a sudden, feeling complex emotions stir inside. Perhaps he had misjudged Won Hajun in a few ways.
He had assumed Hajun grew up as a spoiled young master who knew nothing of harsh realities, yet the guy hadn’t shown a hint of shock upon seeing a cramped, run-down studio apartment. Nor did he seem like the type to apologize first, yet here he was, offering an apology without hesitation…
“So you don’t hate me?”
“…”
And then… moments like this.
When Moondae didn’t answer right away, Hajun feigned indifference while casting frequent glances toward Moondae’s face, a sight that served as a sharp reminder of his A+ visual stat.
What made it harder to ignore was knowing Hajun wasn’t putting on an act to look pitiable—whenever he meant to be playful, mischief filled his eyes at once.
“Why do you keep asking that…? I told you I don’t hate you.”
“Really?”
At times he acted as though he could read minds, yet here he seemed uncertain of himself, his tone cautious.
“Really.”
“Good then.”
Hajun’s eyes narrowed into a soft, genuine smile. A smile close to that of a child, surprising Moondae. He hadn’t known Hajun could smile like that.
Letting out a breath, Hajun shook off the mood. Turning the music back up, he caught Moondae’s bewildered stare and threw him a questioning look.
“Carsick?”
“…No, just thinking.”
Moondae found it surreal that this rich, handsome, tall guy with a broken personality possessed such unexpected sides. He wasn’t some bad-boy lead from a romance drama, yet his character settings felt insanely stacked.
“Weak. I didn’t get carsick even when driving at three hundred kilometers per hour.”
“Three hundred…?”
“Old story. Forget it. Here, take some gum.”
And it seemed his genre leaned far closer to an action movie than a K-drama. Hearing words that shattered reality once more, Moondae realized that perhaps it wasn’t himself pushing Won Hajun away.
It might be gravity.
The force anchoring a person to reality, keeping them grounded in a tangible world.
Three Days Later – TeSTAR Reunion
When vacation ended, TeSTAR gathered at the dorm to catch up on their break. Ryu Cheongwoo spotted two distinct changes right away.
Well, at least the first change was plain for everyone to see.
“You pig! How much did you eat during break?!”
“No!! I’m not a pig! I’m cool! You’re the pig, Kim Raebin!”
“I-I controlled my diet!”
In just four days, the younger members had grown distinctly rounder. A rabbit raised by his grandmother and a cat raised by a veteran butler were locked in a fierce quarrel.
Stepping in to stop the childish bickering, Ryu Cheongwoo spoke up.
“Alright, settle down. We still have time before preparing for the next album, so it’s fine.”
“See? It’s fine!”
“Until then, let’s work out hard and keep snacks to a minimum.”
“…!”
Cha Eugene’s eyes shook. Yet in the end, he gave a subdued answer. “Okay…”
And so, tasks were set one by one. Pointing at dates set for several members’ health checkups, Park Moondae spoke up.
“Ah, I plan to do a solo W-Live stream on this day.”
“By yourself?”
“For now.”
Hajun, who had been absentmindedly playing with Seon Ahyun’s handmade dish scrubbers, chimed in as if catching on.
“You’re planning to bring Sunny along, aren’t you?”
“H-Huh? Me…?”
“Count me in too. I’m off that day.”
“…Sure, fine.”
While Seon Ahyun stood dazed by his abrupt inclusion in Moondae’s solo live stream schedule, Ryu Cheongwoo smiled as he noticed Moondae’s softer attitude.
He had worried the two didn’t mix well, but after hearing news that Hajun had invited—or rather, kidnapped—Moondae to his estate on the second day of break, they seemed to have grown quite close.
“Aww, what about me? Count Sejin in too~”
“What’s the content?”
“Um, if more than half the group joins, can we even call it a solo W-Live stream?”
“Who cares?”
“…”
Unmoved by the fact that it wasn’t even his own live stream, Hajun suggested with a straight face that a food-fighting stream between Moondae and the others would draw massive view counts. Far from an ideal choice for idols. Cheongwoo had to spend the next three minutes explaining that Moondae was planning a W-Live stream, not a Wetube broadcast.
All in all, peace reigned supreme.
