Chorong’s room wasn’t empty when Eunji and the other members filed through the hospital room door. The moment they saw Chorong’s mom sitting in a chair next to the bed and Chorong’s father standing next to her, they all froze. Her mother was grasping Chorong’s hand tightly and holding it to , and Eunji presumed that she was praying. Chorong, for the most part, looked the same, which Eunji supposed was neither good nor bad.

Bomi spoke first, “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Park.” She immediately bent into a low bow, and the other members copied her. 

While Chorong’s father stood still and nodded his acknowledgements, her mother stood up and made her way toward the girls. “Dears,” she said as she hugged every single one of them, “how are you?” 

When she reached Eunji, Eunji was struck by her many similarities to Chorong, as she always was. With her small lips and nose and large, milky brown eyes, Chorong took more after her mother than she did her father. Even their mannerisms were alike; they both had gentle, yet authoritative at the same time, presences and always walked with a soft smile. From her father, Eunji could see Chorong’s strictness.

“We’re doing well,” Bomi answered for them. “How are you?”

In the back, Chorong’s father laughed harshly. “She asked how we are as though this isn’t our daughter lying in a hospital bed, wrapped in bandages.” 

Bomi flinched, and Eunji immediately placed her hand on Bomi’s back for support.

“Dear,” warned Chorong’s mother, then turned back to the girls with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. We’ve had a long ride getting here. Are you sure you are all alright?”

“We’re getting better,” Bomi admitted.

“You aren’t the ones who need to be getting better,” the old man grumbled.

Eunji gripped her fist at her side. She didn’t turn around to look at the other members’ expressions, but she was sure that they all looked stricken or tense.

“Dear,” Chorong’s mother warned again with much more stress. “We’re just terribly worried about our daughter. You must understand how terrifying it was for us to receive a call late at night that told us that our daughter had been involved in a horrible accident.”

Eunji nodded, a ball of remorse forming in her stomach. “I’m sorry,” was all she could say.

“How was your trip here?” Bomi asked.

Chorong’s mother sighed tiredly. “We took the earliest train here, but we had the worst luck with delays. We’re staying at our daughter’s home for the time being.” 

“Do you plan on staying until Unnie wakes up?” Namjoo questioned.

It was an innocent question with no malintention, but Chorong’s father still barked, “We don’t plan on abandoning our daughter.” 

Namjoo shrank back a bit, and Eunji felt that ball of remorse in her stomach shifting into one of anger. As if she sensed Eunji’s dwindling patience, Bomi grasped her hand, like she was telling her, It’s okay.

Grateful for Bomi’s silent support, Eunji swallowed down her temper and instead asked, “Where’s Seunghee-ah?”

“She has an exam today, so she’ll be coming on her own later.” Mrs. Park walked back to her seat, waving her hand to invite them further into the room. The hospital room wasn’t very large, so as all the members began to fill the room, it felt like the room was shrinking. When the older woman settled back into her seat, she noticed the lack of chairs and frowned. “There aren’t enough chairs in here. I’ll call and request for more.” 

“No, that’s okay,” Bomi said quickly, gently pulling Eunji closer to her to make room for the other girls. “We’re fine standing. Thank you, though.” 

Chorong’s mother nodded and then fell silent, returning her gaze to her unconscious daughter. “May I ask a few questions?”

“Of course,” replied Bomi.

“What will be done about the press when they find out about what has happened?”

“The CEO of our company has promised to try his best to keep it contained. I’m sure that includes protecting your family.” Bomi faltered, and Eunji knew that she was trying to find the right words to assure them that they would do what they could to block Chorong and her family from the press. That incident with the online harassment of the Park family a few years ago had undoubtedly left a mark on them, to which Eunji and the rest of the members deeply regretted. “CEO Choi has informed us that he will be moving Chorong-unnie to a more secure room soon.”

“It’s not a matter of stopping the press completely, is it?” Mr. Park demanded. “No, it’s a matter of controlling it, because regardless of what anyone tries to do, the news will get out. In this world of idols, it always does.” 

His last words stung. It felt like he was implying something else with them―almost like he was vilifying the whole job of being an idol. Like he was regretful for allowing his daughter to venture into this field.

Mrs. Park touched her husband’s arm in the same way that Chorong would touch any of the members’ to discreetly comfort them. “We appreciate any help you can give us. Have you heard anything about the man who hit my daughter?”

When Bomi didn’t reply right away, Hayoung spoke up, “No, we haven’t. We don’t know what’s taking so long.”

“When I find out who the man is, I swear on my life that I’ll show him all the ways Hapkido techniques can hurt someone,” Mr. Park growled.

“Dear, you may be a Hapkido master, but you must remember that you also preach self-constraint and humility,” Mrs. Park said wearily. 

“That man is the reason our daughter is in a coma right now!” he hissed. “Perhaps I’d be a bit more merciful if he were here, begging on his knees for forgiveness, but he isn’t. We haven’t even heard from him. He might as well not even feel sorry for what he’s done.”

Next to Eunji, Bomi straightened up a little bit. “I’m sure that’s not the case.”

Chorong’s father shot a glare at her. “How would you know?”

“Yeah,” Hayoung looked at Bomi curiously. “How would you know?” 

Bomi missed a beat, which piqued Eunji’s curiosity. She didn’t want to doubt the older member, but she would be lying if she said that Bomi wasn’t acting a bit odd. “I just think no one lacks that much empathy to not care if they hit someone with a car,” Bomi said eventually. “I feel like we should give him the benefit of the doubt...to look on the bright side of things.” 

“My daughter is in a coma!” the man exclaimed. “Do not tell me to try to look on the bright side of things!” 

“I’m sorry, sir―”

“You’re acting awfully fine for someone whose leader is in the hospital. Are you sure you even have empathy?” 

To that, Bomi didn’t reply. None of the members did―they were all in shock at what Chorong’s father had just accused Bomi, who was perhaps the most caring of them all, of. 

“We are all worried about Chorong-unnie.” Eunji tried to keep her voice as calm as she could, despite her rising anger. “She’s like an older sister to us all, and of course it pains us to see her in this hospital.” 

“Then why didn’t you do anything?” 

Eunji didn’t have a smart answer to that. She only said, “What?” 

“If you care so much about her,” he elaborated in a low voice, ignoring his wife’s pleas for him to stop, “then why didn’t you do anything to stop her from getting hit? Why didn’t you push her out of the way? Why didn’t you pull her back in? Why, for God's sake, didn’t you check carefully before you crossed the road?”

“We didn’t see or expect the car,” Namjoo whimpered behind her. Eunji looked over her shoulder and saw that she and Naeun were near tears. The sight infuriated her.

“And Chorong did?” With each word, Mr. Park’s voice rose. “Why didn’t anyone else see it?”

There it was, out in the open: Chorong’s father’s, and probably everyone else’s in the room too, inner thoughts. Gathering herself, Eunji said slowly, “Are you saying, sir, that you’d rather have one of us in that hospital bed than Chorong-unnie?”

Bomi whipped around to look at Eunji with wild eyes that asked, Why did you just say that? 

“I―” Her words made Mr. Park hesitate and think. His face had turned red with fury, and he was panting from the yelling that he had just done. “I’m not going to answer that.”

Eunji’s fists tightened to the point that her nails dug painfully into her palms. “You just did.” 

This time, it was Bomi who put a hand on Eunji’s back. When Eunji glanced at her friend, she saw with pain that her eyes were pink-rimmed and her lips were red from her habit of biting them in times of stress. “Sir, we don’t mean to cause any trouble. All of us in this room love and care about Chorong, and I know we are all dealing with our grief in different ways. Like I said before, Chorong-unnie is like our older sister. She’s our family―”

“Don’t say that,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

“Honey…” Mrs. Park begged with her teary eyes. He just continued to ignore her.

“Chorong is not your older sister, she’s Seunghee’s. She’s not your family, she’s ours. Her family name is Park, not Yoon, Jeong, Kim, Oh, or Son.” 

Eunji didn’t care if he was Chorong’s father and that Chorong had spent the past nine years instilling a system of respect for their elders among them. She wanted to explode at the man for even suggesting that the bond between Chorong and her members was not real. She had wanted to scream for a while now, but she had been suppressing the desire, telling herself that this was a man in extreme grief. But what he had just said wiped away all inhibition.

She opened to fire back a response, but Bomi squeezed her arm so tightly that Eunji shut as quickly as she had opened it. Shaking with anger, Eunji turned her head toward Bomi, expecting to see her looking distraught and in tears. 

What she saw was far from her expectations.

Other than her pink eyes and lips, Bomi’s face displayed no despair. Instead, her brows were set in a hard line, and her eyes gazed at Chorong’s father with a sense of authority that Eunji would normally see Chorong with. Bomi took a step forward, placed Eunji and the others behind her.

“Bbom-ah,” Eunji whispered quietly.

Bomi only glanced over her shoulder at Eunji, then flitted her eyes over to the younger members. Eunji understood and stepped backwards toward the others, wrapping an arm around Namjoo’s waist. Namjoo was struggling to keep her tears in, unlike Naeun, who was only staring blankly at Chorong with glassy eyes. Hayoung was on the other side of Namjoo, rubbing her arm and whispering reassuring words to her. 

“Family name or not,” Bomi said in a surprisingly steady voice, “Chorong-unnie is our family.” Mr. Park started to object, but Bomi pressed on, giving him no room to say anything, “For the past nine years, we have lived, performed, laughed, and cried together. We have watched each other grow into the people we are today, helped each other fight through our struggles, and encouraged each other to be our best persons. We have fought, but it was never anything we couldn’t resolve. For nine years, we have stuck by each others’ sides, ready to catch each other if we fall. For nine years we have formed a bond that cannot be described as anything but love.” She took another step forward. “If that isn’t family, then I don’t know what is.”

All of the members were quiet as they listened to Bomi talk in a manner that they had never heard her talk in before. Eunji didn’t know whether to be shocked, touched, or proud of Bomi, so she settled on being all three. A strong speech like that coming from Bomi―or any of them―that didn’t end in an embarrassed laugh happened as often as Naeun wearing something other than Adidas clothing or Hayoung going to the gym. Eunji half expected Bomi to break into a shy smile, but she didn't. The fire in her eyes and her determination never wavered once as she spoke. 

“I understand that you are very concerned about your daughter and are upset at the situation. You have every right to be angry,” Bomi continued, “as long as you direct your anger in the correct direction. Point your anger to my family,” she gestured to the members behind her, and a wave of pride washed through Eunji, “then we’ll have a problem. We are all very hurt right now, and I am very sorry for what has happened, but instead of letting it cause a divide between us, we should help each other get through this. Isn’t that what Chorong-unnie would want?”

“My daughter would want to be awake,” Mr. Park said. 

“We all want that. Sir, I know you are upset, but please...Chorong-unnie will be okay. She will wake up, and everything will go back to normal. She’s your daughter, after all. There’s nothing in this world that she can’t beat.”

Chorong’s mother choked back a sob, and Mr. Park finally looked at his wife. 

“No matter what anyone says, Chorong-unnie is our family,” Bomi went on with a softer tone. “We may not understand the pain that you feel as a father, but we understand enough.”

Beside Eunji, Namjoo took a shaky breath as a stray teardrop rolled down her cheek. When Eunji reached over to wipe it away, she saw that both Naeun and Hayoung had silent tears lining their faces. 

Chorong’s father didn’t shoot back another harsh reply. He only looked at Bomi with blazing eyes, then back at his wife with guilty eyes. Cursing under his breath, he pushed past the chair in which his wife sat and stomped in Bomi’s direction. For a second, Eunji feared that he was going to get physically aggressive with Bomi, so she took a small step forward in preparation. 

But he only walked past them angrily, and paused at the door. Before exiting, he glanced around the faces of the room. When his teary eyes landed on his unconscious daughter, he said, “This would have never happened if she had just stayed home.” Then he was gone.

No amount of water could have washed away Eunji’s weariness, but she still stood in front of the bathroom sink, splashing water onto her face, all while Chorong’s father’s words replayed in her mind.

This would have never happened if she had just stayed home.

Eunji would have liked to think that there could be several ways to interpret his statement, but the fact of the matter was that he had meant exactly what he had said. He wished that Chorong hadn’t chosen the life of an idol; if she had just stayed in Chungcheong with her family, she would have never been on that street in Seoul where that man had run the run light. It was a bit of a stretch, but Chorong’s father was clearly distraught and looking for any excuse he could get.

No matter how angry his words had made her, Eunji couldn’t blame the man for his actions. After he had stormed out of the hospital room, Chorong’s mother had apologized for him, saying that he didn’t truly mean what he had said. Eunji knew that that was true; despite being incredibly strict, Mr. Park had always been supportive of Chorong’s career and Apink. They had always had a great relationship with him, and he would always treat them like his own daughters. Still, it stung how he had made it obvious that there was a difference in being treated like his daughter and actually being his daughter. In the room, Eunji had felt that she had lost one of her greatest supporters.

He’ll come around, Chorong’s mother had said. Eunji had no doubt in that, since she believed that regardless of what he had said in his torrent of anger, Mr. Park would always support Chorong and Apink. The accident had just pushed him to temporarily adopt a behavior that no one had expected.

That was what Eunji tried to make herself believe, at least. It still didn’t stop his harsh words from hitting home and causing her heart to ache.

Taking a shaky breath, Eunji patted her face dry with a paper towel and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She hadn’t cried like the younger members, but she had certainly come close to it. Especially when Mr. Park had essentially denounced his support for Apink. She never liked to think about it, but his statement had forced her to imagine an Apink without Chorong. It broke her heart that her mind drew up an empty picture in response to that; without Chorong, Apink would just be a blank, unpainted canvas. It would be incomplete, perhaps even nonexistent. 

And not just Apink―all of the members’ lives would be missing something essential. Chorong had been there for them for the better part of their lives, and she had played a huge role in their development. She was there in all of them, and without her, Eunji was sure that they wouldn’t be the same people.

God, she missed Chorong so much. 

Eunji blinked away the tears that had begun to form and exited the bathroom to head back to the room. It had been about half an hour since Mr. Park stalked out of the room, and Eunji still didn’t know where he went. Chorong’s mother had assured them that he would be back and that he was probably going outside for a walk to calm down. He would never leave Chorong, she had said. A part of Eunji had hoped that she had also said that he would never leave Apink. 

This would have never happened if she had just stayed home.

It was too late to think about something like that; Apink was a nine-year-old group. And yet Chorong’s father had gotten Eunji thinking about where she would be without Apink. A vocal coach, maybe, but even that felt off and horribly lacking. 

It’s because Apink exists that Son Naeun can also exist. Naeun had said that in an interview a while back, and it had touched all of the members’ hearts knowing that Naeun, a girl who never really expressed her feelings, felt that way. Thinking about a life without Apink made Eunji realize that it was the same for her: without Apink, there would be no Jeong Eunji. She had grown during her years as Apink’s Eunji, and through that, she was able to develop her own individual identity that she had grown to love. 

It’s because Apink exists that Jeong Eunji can also exist, Eunji thought to herself as she rounded the corner of the hallway. 

“It’s all my fault.” 

The familiar voice made Eunji stop in her tracks and rush back around the corner. She pressed her back against the wall, unsure of why she was hiding, and slowly peeked into the hallway. There, sitting on a bench, were Bomi and Namjoo. Bomi was holding Namjoo in her arms as the younger girl cried. The sight was awfully similar to their time in the hospital the night of the accident.

“Stop that. It’s not your fault,” Bomi said as she Namjoo’s hair. 

“I was the one who suggested bingsu. If it wasn’t for me, we wouldn’t have been crossing that street when the driver ran that red light.” Namjoo’s voice cracked, “If it wasn’t for me, Chorong-unnie wouldn’t be in there.” 

“Namjoo-ah…”

“I can’t help but feel responsible for all of the pain that we are all feeling. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I...If I hadn’t...It’s all my fault, Unnie, and I will never forgive myself.”

“Namjoo-ah, stop blaming yourself. It’s not your fault, it’s―,” whatever Bomi was going to say, she didn’t. She just stopped short, as if she caught herself from saying something that she didn’t want to. “It’s none of our faults,” Bomi said instead.

“Chorong’s father was right,” Namjoo continued through her sniffles, not catching Bomi’s slip. “Why didn’t I check the road carefully before crossing? Why didn’t I warn her? Why didn’t I pull her back?”

“You said it yourself. Neither of us expected the car.”

“But I could have!” Eunji’s heart shattered more and more as Namjoo continued to blame herself of things that she couldn’t have helped. “I was behind all of you guys. If someone could have seen the car coming, it would have been me. It should have been me.” Namjoo drew her knees up and hugged her legs tightly. “But I didn’t, and now Chorong-unnie is in a coma for God knows how long.” 

“She’ll wake up,” Bomi assured her, and gently wiped away Namjoo’s tears. “The doctor said it herself. Her vitals are fine and she has no major internal injuries. We just have to wait a bit longer.”

“The doctor said that it could be weeks, months, or years. If it’s years or even months…,” From far away, Eunji could see Namjoo’s bottom lip quivering. “Unnie, I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

After those words left , whatever control she had over her tears completely shattered. Namjoo broke into a deep sob and buried her face into Bomi’s chest. The heart-wrenching sound of Namjoo’s wails tearing through her voice utterly destroyed Eunji. She turned away from the two members and pressed her back against the wall as she slid onto the floor. The tears that she had forced away in the bathroom returned, but this time, she did not hold them in.

Eunji’s sobs tore through her chest so roughly that it burned. Her whole body shook as she cried. She clamped her hand over and used her other hand to furiously wipe away her tears so she wouldn’t draw too much attention to herself.

“You have me,” she heard Bomi say. “You have the rest of us. We will never leave your side.”

Perhaps just as heart-shattering was Bomi’s calm attitude, as ironic as it sounded. Eunji hadn’t seen Bomi cry since the night of the accident, which meant that she would only cry alone or, even more concerning, she actually hadn’t cried since then. Eunji loved how Bomi had stood up for them in that tense conversation with Mr. Park and how she had consistently been their main source of consolation the past few days, but not if it meant that Bomi was suffering on her own. 

That night that Eunji had cried in Bomi’s arms, Bomi had asked her several times if she was okay, but Eunji realized with immense guilt that she hadn’t asked Bomi the same thing. Maybe Bomi was hiding her pain or maybe there was something else going on, but whatever the case, Eunji vowed that she would figure out what was happening and be there for Bomi. 

A cry escaped Eunji’s mouth, despite having her hand clamped over it. She hated this so much. She would give anything to go back in time and stop all this from happening. She would give anything to hear Chorong’s bright voice again or just to hear the happy laughs of all her members. 

But she knew, deep down, that her wishes wouldn’t be fulfilled for a while. She knew that they would all get through this together, but at that moment, Eunji sat alone in the hallway, sobbing as she listened to Bomi comfort Namjoo.