Early in the morning, the managers and CEO go to the hospital. When the managers return to dorm a few hours later, Sungyeol, his eyes wide and unashamedly demanding, is upon them almost immediately.

            “When’s Dongwoo coming back?” he asks, looking down at them from his height as the other members join him, their faces asking the same question.

“What’s going on?” Sunggyu, their leader, the last to arrive but his visage set and deliberate, asks.

            The managers wave their hands at the members crowded in the front hallway, dismissing them.

            “Go practice.”

            The tight-pressed lips of the managers say everything and nothing. Hoya constantly pulls out his phone, feeling phantom vibrations in his pocket, until, near the end of the day, he writes a message of his own. His thumb hovers over Donwoo’s name on his screen, but then He slowly slips the phone back into his pocket. He’ll wait, this one last time. Perhaps no news was good news.

            Hoya practices late into the night. The other members peel off, alone and in pairs, until it’s only him left, dancing in the middle of the room. His movements strike out at the space around him, trying to burn the images of his poses into the mirror. Just as quickly as he strikes them, though, the images fade, until their faint remnants are only left in his memory.