Chapter 4

There was a new empty hole in the dorm.

Jinwoo watched as all the other trainees skirted around it. No one came out and actually acknowledged what they were doing but there wasn’t really a need to. Almost subconsciously, they avoided the empty chair at the table, left the corner of the sofa and didn’t bother to make the bed. Things would stay that way almost as if they were waiting for the one that had left to come back.

Then, slowly, as Jinwoo knew it would, all of the trainees would start to forget. The chair would have someone else seating on it, the place on the sofa would be taken up by a pair of stretched out legs and the bed would be filled by somebody new who was just as temporary as the rest of them.

Jinwoo had watched this subtle dance more times than he wanted to. He hated the moment when he would blink and realize that the old trainee was already passing out of his life like they never existed in the first place. Days of songs sang together, dances learnt together and pictures taken together would be scattered by the winds of time until only faded memories remain.

Often, Jinwoo wondered how long it would take before the trainee forgot him when he left. Would he linger in their minds, as someone who had been there long before they were or would he fade away just as quickly? Would he only be remembered as the burden to the group; forgotten except for rare recollections of troubled times?

He wondered if he would ever know the answer.

****

“Good, Jinwoo-ah! You’ve improved! Keep it up!” The words of their vocal instructor burst through Jinwoo’s mind. He blinked; automatically accompanying a bow with murmured words of thanks before the full meaning of the words actually formed in his head.

It had been so long since one of their trainers had praised him. Jinwoo walked around glowing for the rest of the day. The words seemed to fill his chest like a helium balloon, making him feel almost weightless. Jinwoo felt light on his feet. During their dance practice, he felt himself moving easily through the dance sequences, his body flowing smoothly. That gained him another compliment from the trainer and Jinwoo grinned giddily.

The other trainees poked fun at him, calling him a teacher’s pet in good humor.

“Jinwoo yah, what spell have you put on the trainers?”

“Hyung, what’s your secret? I want to improve too. Maybe then the trainers would by me some meat!”

Jinwoo laughed with them, enjoying the bright atmosphere. He felt like all those hours he had put in, practicing till the streaks of grey were shooting through the sky, and all the sweat he had shed in this very room were finally doing him some good.

Suddenly, the mirrored walls didn’t seem like cold prison walls anymore and the fluorescent lamps not all harsh. The practice room seemed to be merely an indication of the easier, happier future to come.

I can do this, Jinwoo thought, looking around at the other trainees. Just another two years, I can hold on that long.

That night, he practiced late again. He wasn’t going to let a few compliments swell his head and screw with his schedule. But he couldn’t really focus. Jinwoo’s thoughts kept shifting to a boy who was probably somewhere out there wiping countless tables, his true identity hidden in the now still strings of his black guitar.

Jinwoo couldn’t wait to see Seung Yoon. He owed this to his dongsaeng, Jinwoo realized. Without Seung Yoon, Jinwoo would have probably given up months ago; letting the black thoughts that dwelled at the back of his head wash over him, drag him under and drown him.

Seung Yoon had helped him pull through.

There were so many things about the younger boy that he admired: Seung Yoon’s calmness, how thoughtful the other boy was and how he never lost control. But Jinwoo loved Seung Yoon’s passion the most. He had watched the younger boy prepare for audition after audition, and coming back each time with a polite rejection. Seung Yoon had never let it get him down and Jinwoo was always amazed by that. Maybe Seung Yoon would make a joke or two about how he still was the boy who came in fourth but that was the closest Jinwoo had seen Seung Yoon come to complaining.

Music seemed to burn in Seung Yoon like a flame, and Jinwoo thought it was a shame that all those company people were too blind to see it. It was obvious in the way Seung Yoon held the guitar, in his voice that rang out in the streets of Hongdae and the bliss in his face as he sang.

Jinwoo was always thrilled when Seung Yoon shared some of that fire with him. When they sang together, it seemed like the whole world fell away, into a nameless void that left Seung Yoon and him alone with only music for company. And what glorious company it was.

He knew Seung Yoon felt it too.

“Maybe someday we should try making songs together, eh hyung?” Seung Yoon would say sometimes. And they’d both laugh. But there was a part of Jinwoo that wished it would happen. It seemed like a perfect future. Seung Yoon and him creating their own music and releasing it to the world. Maybe they’d have concerts and go on tours. They’d live the life both of them were chasing and they’d do it together. To Jinwoo, the long road to his dream would seem much shorter if he had the younger boy with him.

When he put all of these thoughts into words and presented them to Seung Yoon, the guitarist’s eyes had shone eagerly.

“Ah, hyung. That would be amazing wouldn’t it? Seung Yoon smiled at Jinwoo. “But what would YG Entertainment do with a rocker like me? I’m not exactly their style. Do you think I would be able to get in?”

Jinwoo’s heart leapt. Seung Yoon was actually considering it.

“You’ll never know unless you try,” Jinwoo had replied. Seung Yoon had nodded, frowning.

“We’ll see, hyung. We’ll see.”

*****

“You look happy today, hyung,” Seung Yoon’s words greeted him late that night. Jinwoo smiled, tilting his head up to look at the sky.

He felt free, more than he had ever felt before in this city. After the initial excitement of being in Seoul had been washed away by reality, Jinwoo found that life here was much too suffocating for his taste. Too many buildings at every corner. And the people! Thousands of them dashing through the streets and pouring out of the subways. The abundance of humanity in the city made Jinwoo feel claustrophobic. He felt like the tides of people would just sweep him aside and he’d be lost forever.

But the walks he had with Seung Yoon had always been different. Especially today, when Jinwoo felt like the weight of the worry and nerves in him had been lifted.

Jinwoo almost felt like he could fly.

“Yes, Seung Yoonie.” Jinwoo replied cheerfully, raising his arms high above his head and imagined them grazing the stars behind the yellow veil of light above Seoul. “I’m very happy. I’m so happy I could fly.” Jinwoo pulled Seung Yoon’s arm with him as he walked faster and faster. Just like that, the pavement was flying behind him and Jinwoo was running. He could hear Seung Yoon behind him, yelling after him to slow down for god’s sake this wasn’t the friggin' Olympics but Jinwoo only ran faster.

His heart was pumping hard and adrenaline rushed through his veins. Jinwoo laughed. The street lamps seemed to be moving backwards as Jinwoo passed them. He was flying.

Finally, he couldn’t run anymore. Collapsing to the road side, Jinwoo breathed hard. His head spun and his vision was blurred with dark spots. His muscles were crying in agony but that’s okay because it all felt so good.

Seung Yoon finally caught up to him. The boy hadn’t even tried to run. All he did was jog but Seung Yoon was breathing almost as hard as Jinwoo. He threw himself down at Jinwoo’s side, complaining bitterly.

Shoving his dongsaeng playfully, Jinwoo teased, “You’re out shape.” Seung Yoon snorted.

“Hyung, I was never in shape. Physical activity has never been my forte.” They both shared a laugh. Laying on the side-walk like that felt good, better than it should.

Pavements always seem so hard, Jinwoo thought. But today they were sort of comfortable.

Jinwoo and Seung Yoon lay there side by side for a while, enjoying the silences that often came and went between them. It was the quiet between two people who were perfectly in tune with each other. They needed no words to know what the other was thinking. There were glances and light touches that conveyed more than words ever would.

Jinwoo sighed happily, his arm around Seung Yoon. It was really a perfect day.

“Hyung,” Seung Yoon’s voice slid into the silent air between them easily. “You never did say why you were so happy.”

“Ahh, yeah I didn’t.” Jinwoo shifted a little, getting comfortable on the road and proceeded to tell Seung Yoon all about the compliments from the trainers and the light teasing.

“Will the trainers really buy you meat if you improve?” Seung Yoon asked. Jinwoo had to swallow a laugh. Trust Seung Yoon to pick up on that first.

“Sometimes,” he replied wistfully. Seung Yoon reached over and gave Jinwoo a hug. Surprised, Jinwoo returned it. Seung Yoon was rarely affectionate, except for when Jinwoo was really down. Today, Seung Yoon pulled him in close, the warmth of his body surrounding Jinwoo comfortingly.

“They’re finally seeing you, hyung.” Seung Yoon whispered in his year. “They’re finally seeing what I see.” Jinwoo squeezed the younger boy hard.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

When they drew back, Seung Yoon seemed almost embarrassed.

“Ah, you’re so cute sometimes.” Jinwoo told him and was rewarded with a shove. Laughing, he shoved back hard and Seung Yoon almost toppled over.

“Hyung, wait, stop,” Seung Yoon gasped, holding his side. “I have to tell you something.” Jinwoo waited for him to go on. The younger boy looked down at the pavement for a while. When he continued, his voice was low and serious. “Remember when we talked about making music together?” Jinwoo nodded. Seung Yoon met his eyes briefly before his next words tumbled out. “I have an audition at YGE tomorrow.”

Jinwoo leapt up, eyes wide. “What? Are you serious?? That’s great, Seung Yoon-ah! You went to see them personally?”

Seung Yoon nodded, smiling at a little at his hyung’s excitement. “Yeah, yeah, I do. They said that the CEO was going to be there too.”

“Yeah, he almost always is at auditions.” Jinwoo was quivering with excitement. “You’re going to get in, I know you are. It’s YGE man; they know talent when they see it.”

Seung Yoon just shook his head, smiling a little. Jinwoo thought his eyes seemed dark. Why? Jinwoo wondered. What isn’t he telling me?

It’s probably nothing though, Jinwoo thought. He’s probably worrying like he always does.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” Jinwoo asked. Seung Yoon bit his lip, hesitation coloring his face. There it is again, Jinwoo thought. He really is hiding something.

“Yeah, hyung.” Seung Yoon’s voice betrayed nothing. They walked home in uninterrupted silence except for Jinwoo’s occasional question about the audition.

Jinwoo spent the rest of the night thinking about the shadow in Seung Yoon’s eyes.

****

The next day was almost like pure torture. Jinwoo thought that time was deliberately going slower just to spite him. Every time he heard footsteps outside the practice room for the male trainees, Jinwoo’s head would snap up eagerly. The other guys were starting to get a little annoyed.

“Ah, Jinwoo. You’ve let a couple of compliments distract you from our work.”

“Hyung, where are you? Come back down to Earth!”

Jinwoo didn’t bother explaining. To the rest of them, news of another trainee just meant there was someone new to compete against. There was some brotherly love between all of them, but there was also the constant reminder that in here, each of them was on his own.

So, Jinwoo focused, trying to lose himself in practice. The hours ticked by lazily. First, one then two.

Was Seung Yoon auditioning now?

Three hours.

Did he remember to tune his guitar?

Four hours.

Will they bring him over here now or tomorrow?

Five hours.

How is all of this going to work, really?

Six hours.

There was no one to answer Jinwoo’s questions so he tried to answer them himself, looking at his own pale reflection in the mirrors all around him.

After practice, Jinwoo headed out to the street with the other trainees. They seemed surprised but no one said anything. Looking up and down the street carefully, Jinwoo saw that Seung Yoon was nowhere in sight.

Of course, he wouldn’t go busking today, Jinwoo berated himself. Maybe he was finishing one last shift at the restaurant or something. Mumbling something to the other trainees, Jinwoo made his way back to practice. Disappointment curved his back as Jinwoo told himself to hold on just a little longer.

There’s that whole lot of papers they make you sign too, don’t forget that, Jinwoo told himself.

So he waited. And waited. He wasn’t even in the mood to practice anymore. Jinwoo couldn’t seem to grasp the dance that had come to him so easily yesterday. The lyrics to the song they were singing this month seem to fall to the practice room like rocks, bulky and meaningless.

This was frustrating as hell, Jinwoo thought. Where the heck is that boy?

As though Jinwoo’s thoughts had summoned him, there was suddenly the echo of footsteps outside. The door of the practice room opened to reveal Seung Yoon standing there. The younger boy stood slumped against the frame, like he was too tired to hold himself up anymore. The guitarists pale face revealed nothing. Jinwoo searched his dongsaeng’s eyes eagerly but they were completely blank. The shutters behind Seung Yoon’s eyes that Jinwoo had seen the first time they met was back.

A sense of foreboding slide down Jinwoo’s throat and settled in at the bottom of his stomach; a murky brown monster curling up in its nest.

“Hey, hyung,” Seung Yoon’s voice was hoarse. “I snuck in if that’s okay.”

Jinwoo wanted to walk towards the younger boy and prop him up but Jinwoo found that he couldn’t move an inch. The monster in his stomach seemed to weigh him down.

“How did it go?” Jinwoo forced the words out around the lump in his throat. Seung Yoon didn’t respond. For a while, he just stood there, black hair hanging over his face and covering his eyes.

“I didn’t make it.”

It was like the world stopped revolving.

“What? Are you kidding me?” He has to be joking, Jinwoo thought desperately. This has to be one of his dumb jokes. Come on, Seung Yoonie.

“No, hyung.” Seung Yoon’s voice was flat. It was like he was finally feeling the hurt and bitterness from all the countless rejections he encountered before. “I really didn’t make it.”

Jinwoo moved towards him then. He put an arm around the younger boy and lent him support. Jinwoo was about to wrap his arms around Seung Yoon in a comforting embrace but the guitarist pushed him away.

“Wait, hyung.” Seung Yoon choked on his words slightly. “There’s something else.”

Nothing could be worse than this, right, Jinwoo asked himself. But the darkness in Seung Yoon’s eyes didn’t bode well.

“I’m – I’m going home.” Seung Yoon almost had to spit the words out. Jinwoo blinked.

“You mean to visit you mum? For a break?” Seung Yoon shook his head roughly at Jinwoo’s reply.

“No. I mean, I’m leaving Seoul. I’m not coming back.” Seung Yoon refused to meet Jinwoo’s eyes.

Seung Yoon … was leaving?

He words didn’t seem right. Like wrong pieces of a puzzle being forced together.

“But … being an artist? Your dream? What about your dream?” Jinwoo asked numbly.

Seung Yoon buried his head in his hands. Sighing, he looked at his hyung sadly.

“I was a fool, hyung. I kept going around thinking that someone was going to take me in. Coming in fourth should have been indication enough. I shouldn’t have stuck around in Seoul at all. I was too cowardly to go home and face the inevitable, that’s all. But now, it’s time. I’m not sticking around anymore.”

Seung Yoon’s face was so blank it scared Jinwoo. Each of his words was like a blow to his face.

He couldn’t just leave.

“But what are you going to do?” Jinwoo couldn’t imagine Seung Yoon being anything or anyone else. It justwrong, like trying to imagine red being any other color but red. It just didn’t work.

“I’ll go back to school. Take the entrance exams. Go to university. You know,” Seung Yoon shrugged carelessly. “What everyone else does.”

Jinwoo couldn’t take it any longer. Grabbing Seung Yoon’s shoulders, he shook the boy slightly.

“Seung Yoon, listen to me. You can’t be happy doing anything else. This is your dream. You’ve never let rejection bother you before, why give up now? Seung Yoon ah, are you listening to me?” Desperation weaved its way through Jinwoo’s words. But they didn’t seem to have any effect.

“I’ve already bought my ticket, hyung.” Seung Yoon told him quietly. “I just came to say goodbye.”

Pulling away, Seung Yoon turned and walked away; leaving Jinwoo staring at his receding back. The bag in his hands seemed so small for one who had spent so long here. Not taking his eyes of him, Jinwoo hoped Seung Yoon would turn back to look at him. Maybe he’d realize how stupid he was acting.

But Seung Yoon didn’t look back.

The boy with the guitar left.

Jinwoo stood at the doorway of the practice room for hours, refusing to take it in. It was then he realized he forgot to tell Seung Yoon the most important thing.

“What about me, Seung Yoon?” Jinwoo murmured to himself.

What about me?

*****

There was a new empty hole in Jinwoo’s life.

But it wasn’t in his dorm this time. It was in his heart. Jinwoo was carrying a gaping wound everywhere he went and there was still blood trickling from it, slowly and painfully.

This time there were no chairs to leave empty, no place on the sofa to skirt around and no beds to leave unmade. There was no sign that Seung Yoon had left except for his obvious absence on the street.

To Jinwoo, Seung Yoon’s corner of the street was like a black hole now. There was nothing there. No street, no air, no feeling. Nothing. Just a void.

No one else seemed to notice. The people of the city walked past the street as always, fidgeting with phones and laptops. They didn’t miss they rawness of the voice that would shake them from their mundane lives so they could see the beauty around them. The other trainees didn’t even turn their heads as they walked past Seung Yoon’s spot on the street.

In fact, except for Jinwoo’s broken heart, there was nothing left to show that Seung Yoon had even been in Seoul in the first place. Jinwoo didn’t have anything of the boy with him, not even a phone number.

Soon, Jinwoo began to think that maybe the guitarist had been nothing but a figment of his own imagination. Something his fevered brain conjured up when everything became too much.

Jinwoo threw himself into his practice, trying to forget the pain that stabbed his chest every hour, every second of the day. He tried to believe that it wasn’t real; that none of it was real. This wasn't supposed to happen. Jinwoo was supposed to be the one that left. Not Seung Yoon. Jinwoo was supposed to be temporary.

But Seung Yoon was gone anyway.

It wasn’t real.

He was not coming back.

It was time to move on.

Jinwoo shouldn’t be hurting anymore.

The wound he carried wouldn’t stop bleeding.

And there was nothing he could do.