05

the lone dancer

Mornings at backstage waiting rooms were a whirr of doors slamming down hallways, production staff bustling about and yelling for the next act to come onstage, and overexcited young idols religiously chanting their few seconds of lines while being surrounded by an entourage of stylists. It was hardly the place for Jaehyun to get a shut-eye, even when he desperately needed one.

Having twenty-two others share his waiting room made any prospect of rest even more bleak. Taeil and Doyoung were engaged in a heated high-note battle, Mark and Yuta were quibbling like an old married couple over who should take the last piece of Pepero, Lucas was trying to impress the entirety of WayV with all the new Korean swear words he had picked up from Doyoung’s vocabulary, Haechan managed to rip a hole in his sequined jacket and effectively piss off their entire team of stylists, and Taeyong was struggling to get everyone to please shut the up so I can do a headcount.

In the past, Jaehyun would frustratedly stuff in earphones, eventually realizing that he was attempting to tune out noise with more noise. Over time, he came to understand that all their antics were a distraction to cope with the fact that there were hundreds of fans and cameras waiting outside to watch their live performance, and a single mistake would be burned into the online annals of time, etched irreversibly as the performers, the people that everyone of the future would remember them as.

So he just cocked his head back, leaned against his chair, and let his eyes droop to a close. When he woke up, he would be ready to be what everyone knew him as – the Valentines boy, eternal Prince Charming, and national first love, Jeong Jaehyun.

Seulgi ambled into the empty waiting room, clicking the door shut. Her stylists had left after her hair had been tousled, her microphone box had been nipped to the back of her leather pants, and the last puff of powder had been dusted on her nose. Her manager said he was going to check on the schedule one more time, and that she should get ready for a win. If they still remember me, she called, but he was too far down the hallway to hear her.

She had made her way to to NCT’s waiting room in the open, under the guise of dropping a truckload of snacks for the boys. She caught the sight of Jaehyun snoring away, mouth wide open, in a between a bunch of noisy twenty-year-olds trying to outdo each other in a thumb-wrestling contest. They immediately stopped their racket and dropped into deep, polite bows, thanking Seulgi for her gifts and wishing her the best of luck for her solo comeback, assuring her that they were all rooting for her. She swiftly prevented Doyoung from shocking Jaehyun out of his slumber, telling him to let Jaehyun get a few more minutes of sleep and that they could just let him know later that she had dropped by. Or not, either way would be fine.

On her way back, she felt a nagging feeling of envy creep over her. She had been a solo performer for so long she hardly remembered what it felt like to have too many people in a room. When was the last time she performed with anyone, let alone her group?

Irene was off holidaying with her family –and in-laws, Seulgi didn’t know how– somewhere in Europe. Wendy said that she would drop by sometime in the week since Johnny was also making a comeback, but Seulgi knew Wendy hated the overzealous reporters snapping pictures of Youngran on her way in. Joy was neck-deep in filming her drama serial, and Yeri was busy trying to weed her way into a drama serial.

It’s fine, Seulgi had texted in response to their profuse apologies, just send food over or something. Honestly, though, one person couldn’t even consume that much food.

There was a soft knock on the door. Seulgi whirled around. Perhaps Wendy had managed to procure a baby-sitter after all.

The door creaked open to reveal a tanned, lithe man with familiar almond eyes. Seulgi felt her knees knocking and her breath catching at .

“Jongin,” she murmured, before she could stop the name leaving . “Hi, Kai,” she corrected, giving him a weak wave.

Some would contend that Kai was ageless. He moved with his limbs cutting across the wind, his skin liquid gold under the lights of the stage. But under the layers of foundation and coaxed smiles were years of practice, persistence, and exhaustion. She could see the invisible lines that had drawn themselves across his face, each one by a different source of duress. The light in the eyes of the thirteen-year-old Kim Jongin she had met in the practice room had faded into what was both the dimming twilight and shining star that was EXO’s Kai.

“Hey,” he smiled, his eyes curving softly, “little bird told me you were making a comeback today.”

“Little bird – you mean the internet? Or just Kim Joonmyeon?” she joked. They both chuckled at the reference, remembering all the times Suho butchered her songs on his social media, all in a grand attempt to promote her music.

“Yeah, well, knowing him, he’ll probably drop by later, and nag you for not telling him your schedule earlier,” he joked.

You could’ve told me. The ghost of his thoughts seemed to hover in the air.

She shrugged her shoulders. “He didn’t call me to join the poker game last week.”

They laughed again, trying to override the tense air between them. Or at least, the fact that she had not stuck her face into his waiting room, despite it being only a few meters away and with almost the entire company having shown up and taken pictures with him on the last week of his comeback season.

“Congratulations,” she said, not sure what for. It was a reflex of sorts, because there was always to congratulate Kai on. He would make sufficient assumptions, she knew.

“Thank,” he replied, “you too. It was a really good song. Where did you shoot the music video?”

“Somewhere in Gangwon-do, I think? Drove up couple weeks ago before the snow came down.”

“Oh, nice,” he nodded. “Well, it turned out really great. Happy for you.”

“Thanks.”

And they were back to the terse, awkward silence that enveloped them each time after they had exchanged a couple of perfunctory syllables. When they were si