Four years ago — 2016, October

They don’t usually hang out like this. Just the seven of them, no crew or PDs or cameras. Ha Ha complains that they eat too much so they seldom go to his restaurant, but perhaps he’s feeling sentimental tonight — after all, the man of the hour, Kang Gary, just announced that he’s leaving the show that’s been a huge part of their lives. 

“I’m going to miss this.” Jihyo whispers out of the blue, taking a good look at the other members around her.

“Yah, the show is still going on.” Jongkook’s the only one who hears, probably because they’ve been talking by themselves for a while now. 

She ignores him, focusing on her half empty drink. “Do you know what I’ll miss the most?”

They’ve been chatting for hours now — Ha Ha’s the boss, he can’t chase them out. About life, career moves and their future... Anything other than Running Man. With Gary leaving and the six of them struggling with falling ratings, who knows what might happen. 

Jongkook isn’t one to be sentimental, but Jihyo is. He likes talking to her anyway, even if they are in their own little world and their friends are drinking and laughing around them. 

“Bullying Kwangsoo?” Jongkook jokes, smiling wider as Jihyo hits him on the shoulder in mock anger. 

“I think I’ll miss hanging out with all of you.” She finishes, serious in contrast to his playful tone. “Mondays are tiring, but at least we do it together, you know?”

“Yeah.” He replies, allowing himself to watch as she digs into her meal. He’d miss them all too. 

But they don’t have to stop filming, not yet. One member departure won’t stop the show. It will take more than poor ratings and Kang Gary to cancel the show he most dearly loves.

Now — 2020, December 

Everyone deals with grief differently.

Jaesuk and Sukjin are older, they take this as an opportunity to live life one step at a time, and never take anything for granted. Kwangsoo’s the youngest — he’s probably the angriest, if not the most vocal about their loss. Donghoon has a family now and it gives him a different perspective, but they are all devastated to say the least. 

Four years later and Jongkook still doesn’t know what happened to Kang Gary. The man cut all contact, on purpose. It makes his blood boil thinking about it, how he could have at least called after they lost her. He was once part of their group, except he chose to leave and she didn’t. 

And words cannot describe grief, no matter how hard they try to get over it. 

Unlike the rest, Jongkook channels his pain into something positive. He works out at the gym three hundred and sixty five days without fail, not even in the harshest of storms or the hottest of days. 

Sometimes he takes a break, but they are rare. Other times work calls and he can’t physically be at the gym, even if his mind is dreaming of it. It takes a lot to lure him out of his natural habitat, a place he calls his second home. 

But today is not like any of those days. It’s another one of those stupid anniversaries that he cannot forget, no matter how hard he tries to. He comes to the same park by the Han River around midnight and watches the calm of the night around him. 

The scenes replay in his mind over and over again, and the days after that too. The waiting. Chasing away the cruel paparazzi hungry to get a snapshot of the shattered members. Acceptance for the others, and denial for him. The funeral. 

“I think I’ll miss hanging out with all of you.”

He curses his memory for bringing her words back to life in his head, especially on a day like this. Grief does not treat him well and he feels the heartache that’s about to explode in his chest. When will he move on? There’s no point longing for the dead, no point coming here every year with the stubborn hope of finding her again. 

Jongkook squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block out everything around him. It’s not the serenity he comes here for even though there’s practically no one around. He likes being by himself with his thoughts and some might say that’s the worse thing to be alone with, and maybe they are right — but he cannot stop thinking about her. 

Because four years ago along this very spot, Song Jihyo left and never came back.

Four years ago — 2016, December

The crew was getting restless. 

Filming under these conditions weren’t uncommon and sometimes they ran overtime, but today was worse than before. They have to pack up and film the other segments of the episode, otherwise they might be filming overnight. 

They’ve sent out the boat to find her ages ago. Kwangsoo’s even gone back to look, having been the last person to see her, but he hasn’t returned either. Jaesuk and Sukjin are talking to the producers about filming delays, leaving Ha Ha and Jongkook waiting.

“Where is she?” Jongkook mumbles. He’s not going to lie — his worry for Jihyo was skyrocketing right now. None of them wanted to talk about it, but he knew they are very tensed at the moment.

“She probably just got called by the PDs for a different mission.” Ha Ha supplies rather unhelpfully, but Jongkook can tell that he’s trying to convince himself too. 

It’s not uncommon that Jihyo wanders off on her own during filming (it always works to her advantage during nametag races), but this time, he’s a little pissed. She should know better. The sky is dark and gloomy, and the Han River is huge. She should have known to stick to Kwangsoo instead of going off on her own. 

“When she comes back, we should scold her. As her hyungs, you know?” Jongkook frowns, looking out into the river. He shivers; taking a dip in there is not a pleasant experience, but they haven’t had the time to dry off properly since they were waiting to film the debrief. 

“Since when will she ever listen to you?” Ha Ha taunts, but the joke falls flat. “Don’t worry, hyung. Her VJ is with her anyway.”

Jongkook nods. Cameras were everywhere, why would he be worried? Ha Ha’s probably half right and maybe Kwangsoo was part of the plan, acting as her sidekick spy or something. 

Fifteen minutes later, he turns out to be wrong. 

Fifteen days later, he’s apologizing to her parents for losing her.

And fifteen months later, he's accepted that she's never coming back.

He remembers the emotions that followed: the feeling of helplessness and frustration while they searched to no avail. And then the desolation that turned into guilt as they were forced into a conclusion neither of them wanted to accept. 

There’s a lot of speculation about what happened.

Some say she drowned. The currents pulled her under despite her float, or her safety gear malfunctioned and dragged her down. It’s the most plausible, even with a show like Running Man with lifeguards and divers in check. 

Others say she hit her head or injured herself. Jihyo’s not reckless though, and again, there were cameras everywhere. It’s crazy to think she went beyond a line or went missing without someone spotting her.

In the end, the investigations don’t show a thing. The cameras captured nothing, not even her VJ who swears she was with him the whole time before he lost sight of her. There are cameras everywhere, and not a single