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Chapter 9
After playing yutnori, doctor, and watching the Cute-Lovely-Ping animation they’d hurriedly packed from home
(even though Yewon didn’t actually want to do any of them),
only after Yewon finally conked out from sheer exhaustion
could Uyeon and Doha breathe a sigh of relief.
“She’s completely out.”
“Thank god. If we’d kept playing, I would’ve collapsed first. Catering to a little girl’s tastes is brutally hard….”
“Then you shouldn’t have come.”
At Doha’s bleak reply, Uyeon’s already sharp eyes shot up dangerously.
“Watch your mouth.”
“I am.”
“You think I came because I like you? I came because after hearing the kid’s situation, it felt too pitiful not to.”
“Next time, you don’t have to care. She’s not your niece—she’s mine.”
At Doha’s cold words, Uyeon glared at him.
“…What the hell is wrong with you that you’re always like this?”
“What is?”
“A person is trying to help, putting in effort—so why the hell is the reaction that comes back always like this?”
The moment Yewon left the room, the atmosphere between the two flipped 180 degrees.
“The kid—”
“What, you bastard. What.”
“…The kid can’t get attached to this place.”
“!”
At Doha’s words, Uyeon froze.
“You know it too. I can’t raise her. Yewon needs to grow up in a good home, surrounded by love.”
“…….”
“Honestly, I don’t see an answer. Sometimes I wonder if bringing her here on impulse was a mistake.”
As if it were something he’d never considered before,
Uyeon couldn’t respond, his face pale as he pressed his lips together.
“So you… don’t be too good to her either. Don’t let her get attached and start thinking she can’t leave.”
“…Do you at least have somewhere to send her?”
“I’ll have to look again. I already asked Young-oh to help—told him to find a way.”
“But Yewon might want to stay here.”
“Talk sense. You want a seven-year-old to live the kind of life we do? Outside this building are sasaengs everywhere, reporters desperate to get a scoop. It’s a miracle no article’s broken yet.”
“…Fuck….”
At Doha’s words, Uyeon let out a deep sigh, his mouth bitter.
“If an article about Yewon breaks, the one who gets hurt the most is Yewon. Not us—her. Starting from where her dad is, our family’s messed-up story will be exposed to the entire nation. You want to ruin the kid’s future?”
“…….”
There wasn’t a single wrong word.
Uyeon was one of the few who knew Doha’s family situation well.
Why Doha was so desperate to hide his family,
why he valued his privacy so fiercely—he knew it all.
Which made it even harder to say anything.
“When the whole country is already throwing stones at us, we can’t let a kid get hit by them too.”
And on top of that, the timing couldn’t be worse.
Just as Doha said—right now, Glit was being pelted with stones by the entire nation.
“…This is what’s best for Yewon too.”
“Haa. Life really is this harsh and exhausting, huh.”
Uyeon sighed as he spoke.
It was a clear sign of surrender.
“…….”
And then.
Someone was standing behind the door, having heard every word of the conversation.
So that’s why he hesitated.
Yewon let out a serious sigh.
This is bad. I need to do something, fast.
At this rate, forget the quest—I’m about to get kicked out.
…But how?
Yewon thought for a moment.
First, I should focus on the root of the problem.
She tuned back into the conversation outside.
“So anyway, when are you going to start working on music again? No—can you even start? You’ve never gone this long without working.”
“…….”
The reason Doha shut his heart and stopped leaving the dorm.
“Is Eon… coming back from the UK?”
“Ask him yourself, asshole. Am I the leader? You are.”
The reason good-natured Uyeon had grown sharp with Doha.
“What did Yeonho hyung say?”
“Have you ever seen that guy talk? If you just say, ‘Come out, hyung,’ he’d probably come out. He’ll work even if he doesn’t exchange a single word with us. I seriously don’t know what he’s thinking.”
One member in the UK, another completely out of contact—
The reason these four ended up deeply wounded.
That reason was—
“…Any news about Yoo Taeyoung?”
“…….”
“Is Yoo Taeyoung still blocking all of us?”
Glit member Taeyoung’s departure.
Glit had originally been a five-member boy idol group.
One of Korea’s Big Three agencies—Time Entertainment, famous for producing the most “textbook” idol groups—launched a new rookie group called Glit after six years.
And Glit hit it big.
…Everywhere you went, people were playing Glit’s songs.
Even Yewon, who had little interest beyond acting, couldn’t help but know them.
Centered around Doha—the visual center and composer—the remaining four members were all praised as perfectly balanced, all-round rookies, and they soared to success.
Composition, lyrics, producing.
Lee Doha—the genius dubbed “the talent stolen from the composition industry by the K-pop scene.”
Han Uyeon—who swept dance contests and received love calls from all three major agencies.
Seo Yeonho—famous since childhood after appearing on hip-hop survival shows.
Eon—a British-Korean mixed-race former child model, known from a young age for his exotic looks and unique aura.
And finally—
The main vocalist Yoo Taeyoung, whom Time Entertainment had carefully hidden and treasured.
The five formed a perfect balance and quickly claimed the top idol spot.
Rookie of the Year in their first year.
Best Song of the Year in their second.
A grand prize in their third.
It was smooth sailing.
Up until then, everything seemed perfect.
…Up until then.
“Why is Doha always the center? And why does Doha always get the most schedules?”
Cracks began to form in their fourth year.
At Taeyoung’s sudden complaint, the other four were completely taken aback.
The most shocked of all was Doha himself.
He hadn’t wanted to be center—it was the company’s plan that made him both center and leader. The situation was bewildering beyond words.
No, that was only true at the start. From the second album on, Lee Doha had solidified as Glit’s main identity in the public eye.
Maybe it was inevitable. Doha planned the albums and made all the songs.
His talent was praised as “unrivaled” even across the entire K-pop scene, so the company had no choice but to rely on him.
Even fans and the general public naturally thought of Lee Doha when they heard “Glit’s center.”
The other members accepted it as obvious, so no one questioned it.
But in their fourth year, Taeyoung questioned it for the first time.
“Huh? Now you’re questioning that?”
“Pathetic, Taeyoung.”
“Did you eat something bad or what?”
Uyeon, Yeonho, and Eon laughed it off jokingly—
but Taeyoung and Doha couldn’t laugh at all.
“…It’s true though. As main vocal, I take all the hardest parts. Yet all the attention always goes to Lee Doha.”
“Hey, is that Doha’s fault? And let’s be clear—you took the hardest parts because you wanted to. Not because Doha can’t sing. You said you wanted to be main vocal.”
That was true.
Doha’s vocal skills were in no way inferior to Taeyoung’s.
He had simply taken a step back so the company could firmly establish Taeyoung’s role and image as “main vocal.”
The members—and even Taeyoung himself—knew that perfectly well, which made the argument baffling to everyone.
And yet—
“Be the center for the next album. I’ll talk to the company.”
Doha, who had never wanted to be center, stepped back without hesitation.
“What? What kind of nonsense is that?! Why would you give it up?! You think you being center is for you?! It’s for all of us! I hate this! I’m against it!”
Uyeon exploded in anger.
“Lee Doha.”
Yeonho grew wary.
“Wow, this team’s really going places.”
Eon sneered.
Despite the others’ reactions, Taeyoung, though displeased, didn’t reject Doha’s offer.
But Taeyoung’s demands didn’t stop there.
‘Rearrange it to fit my vocal tone.’
‘Change this killing part so I stand out more.’
‘This is too hard to sing while dancing—lower the key.’
And more.
Taeyoung made almost desperate, frantic demands of Doha, all so he could shine more.
The other members grew sick of it, but Doha said nothing and accepted every demand.
And yet—
In the end, Taeyoung still left them.
On the floor of Doha’s living room, filled only with black and silver furniture,
“Let’s ask while we’re at it. Back then, why did you accept all of Yoo Taeyoung’s bullshit?”
Two tall men, exhausted from childcare, lay sprawled out, staring at the ceiling as they talked.
“…Because I can’t say I don’t understand how he felt.”
“!”
