Debut or Die-Chapter 259
Night practice ended swiftly as planned. After returning to the dorm and taking a shower, I replayed my conversation with Big Sejin in my mind.
His point was simple:
‘Ah-hyun’s pride would be hurt...’
He didn’t want Ah-hyun to appear embarrassed, bullied by his peers.
“Hm.”
I can’t deny it—it was a perspective I hadn’t considered. Since the first time we met on Idol Corporation, Big Sejin had trailed after me like a shadow; he hardly felt like the same age.
‘Honestly, “same age” is just appearance.’
If he had any conscience, he wouldn’t presume to call us peers—I clearly remember everything up to age twenty-nine.
Even if we were the same age, it was ambiguous.
‘I don’t even know if Ah-hyun cares about that kind of thing.’
With anyone else, maybe, but Ah-hyun—pure and guileless—would probably accept it gratefully.
Still, I admitted one thing:
‘I can’t solve everything for him.’
No matter how smooth our activities, I had given him orders whenever he had a problem. Maybe it was time for Ah-hyun to handle things himself.
“He’s definitely got grit.”
I shrugged. Except for that moment at the awards show, he hadn’t looked particularly down. I’d just watch for signs that he was overdoing it.
Click. I stepped out of the shower and headed for the fridge. Mid-cut, I didn’t want milk at this hour—ice water would do.
Ah-hyun wasn’t in his room.
‘He’s probably in the living room.’
As I rounded the corridor corner, I heard voices.
“Th-that’s why... if it feels like someone’s praising me when they don’t actually like me... what should I think?”
“You praise me when you don’t like me?”
“Y-yeah. It’s kind of the same feeling.”
It was Cha Yoo-jin talking with Seon Ah-hyun. Yoo-jin’s frank reply followed.
“Why praise me when you don’t like me?”
“I-I don’t know... because they can’t get angry?”
“OK, OK.”
Yoo-jin answered brightly.
“Then I say, ‘I know~’! I know I’m good at what I do!”
“R-really...?”
“Yeah. Praise is praise!”
His tactic was brilliant: whatever their intent, he’d just digest it as praise.
But I doubted Ah-hyun could so easily use that.
‘Why is he asking Yoo-jin for advice...?’
Weird.
I considered waiting until they finished, but realized that’d be funnier and just walked in.
Ah-hyun sprang to his feet when our eyes met.
“M-Mundae! Want some water?”
“Sure.”
“Here...!”
A glass of water was presented.
“...Thanks.”
‘He’d be insulted if he thought I was helping him?’
I still felt like his voluntary sidekick—but I accepted gratefully and drank.
He and Yoo-jin resumed talking, but Ah-hyun stopped midway and asked me instead.
“W-why...?”
Oh. Maybe I’d stared too much.
“Well, I just wanted to confirm that practice’s at seven tomorrow.”
“Ah, yes. Seven it is...!”
“Okay, thanks.”
I ended awkwardly. Nothing extraordinary—just seemed a bit more fired up than usual.
“Good~”
At that moment, Big Sejin emerged from the living room, tapped my back, and grinned.
...Seems like he’s teasing me.
‘Whatever, damn it.’
Let them handle it themselves. There was too much to do before comeback. I returned to my own work.
“Seven’s too early....”
“Get to bed.”
In my room, I rechecked the monitoring and stage composition, then lay down immediately.
Ah-hyun came in late, trying not to make noise. I admired his effort.
‘He’s practically crawling in.’
I considered telling him to sleep, but thought he’d freak out—so I left it.
The next day.
After morning practice, at lunchtime, Ah-hyun slipped away for his collab rehearsal as usual. He’d be blocking out one- or two-day spurts of work in the coming weeks.
“You okay? Maybe eat first.”
“I—I’m fine eating after! It’s just a quick session.”
“Mm, if you say so.”
“Wait a second.”
I tossed him a glucose candy. The trainer had approved it for emergency use, so a few wouldn’t hurt.
“T-thanks....”
“Do well.”
“Ah-hyun, fighting~”
“Have a productive practice time!”
He hurriedly pocketed the candy, bowed, and left.
“....”
I wondered if he’d come back crying.
“Hyung! Give me candy too!”
“Here.”
“Yay!”
I emptied the rest, crossed my arms, and thought:
‘I really do know what’s going on...’
Then Big Sejin suddenly began fanning himself for no reason.
“It’s hot from practice—shall we get ice cream? There’s a healthy snack shop down there!”
“Sounds good!!”
“Oh, that place. Light enough for after practice.”
“Okay—let me finish this round, then I’ll grab some with Mundae!”
“...?”
Why include me?
Curious, I followed. As soon as we stepped outside, Big Sejin burst into laughter.
“Hey, Park Mundae! You so worried about him, huh?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Did you know you’ve been secretly watching Ah-hyun every time he practices? Better to just talk to him—it’d be more natural!”
“.......”
I just wanted to check on him before and after collab rehearsals, damn it.
But Big Sejin only laughed harder.
“Aah~ Mundae Mundae, what’ll we «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» do? You’ve got to know everything and micromanage to be satisfied, huh?”
“Shut up.”
“Use that amazing talent only for the album, capable Mundae~”
“.......”
“But hey, picking ice cream flavors—use it for that, too—woohoo!”
“Where?”
I sprinted after him across the street; the others soon enjoyed unexpected ice cream deliveries.
Alone on the practice-room floor, I pondered briefly.
Me? Addicted to control?
‘No, it’s survival.’
It was about my own survival; I cared about potential group conflict. Instinct.
‘And now it’s not even that.’
If my status screen vanished, I wouldn’t die. It was just a high-stakes aim.
‘No time wasted on the unnecessary.’
I ate an ice cream and focused on afternoon practice.
But that too was soon disrupted.
When Ah-hyun returned, his face was clouded.
“I-I’m back.”
“.......”
He must’ve had a rough session.
Ah-hyun recovered quickly and joined practice, but the others began to notice the tension.
“Anything happen during the collab prep?”
“Prepping seems more complicated than expected.”
Yet Ah-hyun gave no sign he was overdoing it. It wasn’t serious.
Soon, he was mollified by receiving ice cream, and the topic died down.
Usually, one should ask at a suitable moment during downtime—but I was his roommate.
‘I suppose I should ask, out of courtesy.’
Still, I found no special reason to bring it up.
After practice, I sat reviewing my dance-practice footage. Then Ah-hyun spoke.
“Um... M-Mundae. May I ask you something?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
Could it be?
It was.
“H-how do you—when the people you work with are hard to deal with—what do you do?”
“.......”
A direct request for advice.
“It depends on the situation. What do you mean by ‘hard to deal with’—bosses?”
“No, not that. It’s... they deliberately show fake niceties that feel uncomfortable.”
As I’d guessed.
“Hm, then you can respond in kind or simply ignore them civilly. When you’re more successful, they’ll humble themselves.”
“I-I see.”
In that moment, I realized:
‘Damn, that feels good.’
I might indeed be the type who needs to know and control everything to feel at ease—a cursed trait.
I felt dismayed at conceding one point to Big Sejin, but continued to listen to Ah-hyun. I needed more details.
He seemed embarrassed—very embarrassed.
“S-sorry. I feel like I’m the only one who can’t keep up... I just keep needing help.”
“...?”
“Others are all doing well... I must be the problem. I’ve tried counseling, practice, but it doesn’t help....”
Why did it turn into this?
“You have no problem. Why worry?”
“E-every time I meet peers, it’s like this... from the start.”
“.......”
Ah-hyun, flustered, forgot his earlier third-person frame.
“When did it start?”
“In middle school... even when I did ballet.”
He hesitated, voice trembling.
“I injured my ankle... everyone was too happy....”
Chills ran up my spine.
“They weren’t mean kids, but since then, whenever I joined a peer group, I guess they felt... uncomfortable.”
“.......”
I stood.
“None of the members here have made you feel unwelcome.”
“They’re all kind....”
“You’re the best behaved in this group. And you went to that arts middle school.”
“Right?”
“You were top of your class.”
“W-well, a few times...”
His confession revealed it all.
I crossed my arms. His parents and a counselor wouldn’t spin it this way, so I took over.
“Listen. All they did was envy your skills.”
“Eh?”
“They were pissed because a handsome guy danced so well. Got it?”
“Well, but... ah, got it.”
Against his doubt, he nodded. Good.
“So every day, look in the mirror and say ten times: ‘I’m amazing.’ Don’t mind the jealous—deal?”
“I-I only did that in counseling....”
“Do it again.”
His embarrassment deepened, but he finally nodded reluctantly.
Then I suddenly picked up on something his earlier words hinted.
“Wait—when you switched from ballet to modern dance... was it because of bullying?”
But Ah-hyun shook his head quickly.
“No, no... the ballet teachers said my physique was a shame.”
“Physique?”
“Yeah, ballet needs a certain foot arch. Mine wasn’t, plus my hips were small. They recommended I pursue what I’d excel at.”
Got it.
He had talent for dance, but his body suited modern dance more than ballet.
They’d advised the switch before college audition prep.
In the end, he ended up in idols, not dance—but at least it paid well.
“And now you’re putting that modern training to good use.”
“Y-yeah...?”
He smiled, then soon bowed his head in a more somber way.
“Actually... today, they said something during collab practice.”
“In collab practice?”
“Mm.”
He nodded and, with a hint of grievance, said:
“They said since the moves are hard, only Ah-hyun will stand out. They said they were jealous and congrats....”
Typical backhanded compliments in capitalism.
“...And you couldn’t respond?”
“No, I did.”
He blushed.
“I said, ‘Thank you, I’ll do my best.’”
“.......”
“And Yoo-jin said it’s fine to accept praise as praise... but... is that okay? No one else replied....”
I managed a reply.
“Yeah. You handled that well.”
Ah-hyun might turn into someone who kindly takes jokes in stride.
Big Sejin’s advice proved right again.
...Though perhaps that earlier talk was worth having once.
“Keep doing that. You did well.”
“Th-thanks.”
His face brightened.
I grudgingly admitted defeat.
‘...Focus on the album now.’
Two weeks later, December 31.
MBS’s year-end music program aired on the final day of the year.
TeSTAR’s first appearance would be the collab stage featuring Seon Ah-hyun.
