I N N E R C I R C L E

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15.

It was a day of seemingly some years ago, when they were still trainees. Jinwoo thinks he doesn’t remember it well, but it was there, fresh in his mind, like newly painted watercolor picture. A careless touch and your finger would bleed color. Jinwoo likes to occasionally think back on that day; he goes through the memories like flipping pages on an old book, examines the scattered still-images of the past like an audience in their favorite art exhibition. Till this day, sitting next to Seunghoon or listening to him pulling another stupid joke about the day Mino broke his heart doesn’t bother Jinwoo anymore. Much as it never bothered him back then, being the one who shared Seunghoon’s friendship and his darkest secrets, without ever, ever mentioning how amazing it would be if Jinwoo can have a piece of his heart too.

But a person like Jinwoo always learned the lesson the hard way.

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“No, I’m fine. I’m actually fine, don’t worry for me, Seungyoon.” I said as I retreated into the corner, putting the headphones on top of the hood over my head. Kang Seungyoon stared at the face mask and the glasses on my face.

“Hyung, are you sure you’re okay? You’re, like, having a hundred layers on. What’s the matter?”

I closed my eyes and turned his back to him, nodding my head as if I’m listening to some hardcore music. It wasn’t that far from the truth. Underneath the thick gray hoodie, I could hear the sound of my heart beating violently, like drumbeat against the wall, like screams echoing in the mountains.

“You have been acting like this for days. You can’t expect me to leave you alone.” Seungyoon’s worrisome voice reminded me of the times when I locked myself in the bathroom and cried until I passed out upon the news that Lee Seunghoon was eliminated on that audition survival show. Back then, I didn’t even know who he was. I should have known that if a stranger could pain me like that, I should take extra measures to be cautious if he ever becomes a loved one. Kang Seungyoon was the one who witnessed me being at my absolute worse; yet I couldn’t tell him a thing. He didn’t know me like that, despite how caring he was.

“You can talk to me, hyung. Did something happen? Did you fight with Seunghoon-hyung?” Seungyoon asked patiently, even though the strength he forced onto my arm told me otherwise. “It wasn’t like you to act like this.”

“Nothing. Nothing is the matter.” I pulled my arm away.

“I knew you could hear me.” Seungyoon insisted.

“ off, Seungyoon.” I said without looking at the younger guy. He froze for a moment before withdrawing his hand. Moments later, I heard the footsteps drifting away and the door closed behind me.

“Nothing is the matter.” I kept mumbling to myself while writing extensively onto a piece of paper. I stretched harshly on the pencil; soon enough, the lead broke in half. It didn’t matter anyway, because whatever I was writing at the time wouldn’t turn into lyrics, nor would it become a song. I’m not Seungyoon, or Taehyun, or Mino. Especially Mino – especially him. I’m the guy with nothing but seven years of training and a pretty face. The one who got nothing but determination and loyalty. The one who needed nothing but someone whose gazes didn’t look like sympathy and pitifulness. I’m the poor little guy, the talentless, the rejected, the bystander Kim Jinwoo. And as of today, I got nothing left.

+ + +

One day of February, years ago. It was a few days short of Lunar New Year. They were sitting in their usual coffee shop, getting their caffeine on to make up for the endless training sections. Seunghoon was on his tablet playing mindless game when Jinwoo brought over their orders. Seunghoon ordered a seasonal peppermint mocha – they always had that flavor during this time of the year. From early December, to celebrate Christmas, but the special drinks were served well until late January due to popular demands. Jinwoo got a black coffee and Seunghoon raised his eyebrows while scoffing under his breath – “so pretentious, trying hard to be cool” – to which Jinwoo just smiled and motioned his hand to dismiss. Seunghoon didn’t know Jinwoo wasn’t inclined to sleep much anyway.

 “Song Minho.” Jinwoo exclaimed. “He sounds like a cool guy, helping you with your practice and all.” Seunghoon just smiled without saying much. “I figured.”

“How did he agree to help you?” Jinwoo asked, curiously. “He looked a little bit scary at first to me, honest.”

“Well, Wooya, everyone is intimidating to you but me.” Seunghoon slightly chuckled; the warm sound made Jinwoo a little bit flustered. He quickly explained himself:

“If you were me, you would feel the same way.” He pressed his lips. “Except for me, everyone else in the group seems so comfortable with their skills.” Seunghoon glared at him for a while, then reached over to rub his messy hair. His eyes almost turned into two straight lines as he smiled:

“You forgot about me.”

“You got talents though.” Jinwoo protested. “Your dancing skill is recognized even amongst the higher-ups. They love you.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to conclude that, Wooya.” Seunghoon shrugged as if he didn’t want to continue the conversation. But then he continued. “BigTone hyung thought I was hopeless in rapping, and I got criticized a lot. Not that he ain’t right.”

“That’s not fair. You just started rapping recently.” Unlike me. I have trained for almost eight years. Jinwoo didn’t finish the sentence, but the look from Seunghoon’s eyes said everything. He spoke up, in the most serious manner possible:

“Well Wooya, to be honest, I could train forever and still wouldn’t have your face.”

Jinwoo was taken aback; he wasn’t prepared for this comment. Almost right away, he realized that it was another cynical joke, available 24/7 in Seunghoon’s repertoire. The older started giggling and hitting Seunghoon’s shoulders.

“Ouch. Why do you hit me for??” The slightly younger guy complained as he shielded himself. “Wasn’t the truth spoken in all earnest beauty?”

“I was being serious and you made fun of me!” Jinwoo stopped attacking Seunghoon with his tiny arm and focused on wiping his eyes instead. The tears were coming out, either because of the joke, or that from the inside, Jinwoo knew it wasn’t just a laughing matter. As he predicted, Seunghoon said again:

“I wasn’t making fun of you. I’m stating a fact. Nobody could ever have your face – and believe me, it’s goddamn gorgeous. It’s equivalent of a certain type of talent. And I’m not saying you only got your face. No, you were born with it – but you also work so ing hard, god, you worked so diligently, and that’s another ing talent, Wooya.”

Jinwoo drifted his fixed gaze from Seunghoon into an uncertain part of the room. His eyes opened widely, as widely as possible, as he tried to fight back the tears. Seunghoon didn’t look at him either. He got back to switching between apps and songs on his tablet. Maybe he was embarrassed after the pet talk. It was unlike him to have such compassionate and supportive comments. Jinwoo knew Seunghoon – he ain’t the talking type. That was precisely why it was that much more precious. After moments of silen