#45. Arcus (7)
There were times when I felt bitter.
Why aren’t precious things eternal? Why do the things I love, cherish, and carefully treasure leave so futilely?
I wasn’t greedy. I was just a trivial and modest kid who didn’t have much in hand and became happy right away over small things.
My mother’s death that came to me was like a bolt from the blue that struck overnight. I was a child who found it difficult to fully understand and accept the meaning of death at that time. It meant I couldn’t immediately digest the bewilderment of my only family suddenly disappearing.
The farewell that came without time to prepare swept through me painfully, leaving me alone. Every time that happened, I tried to digest even a little of the injustice that loss brings, to reduce it even by a fingernail’s worth.
I shouldn’t have been sulky about not liking Christmas presents. I shouldn’t have been whiny about being sick. I should have said that medicine and such things were fine, so please just don’t go out and stay by my side. Instead of sleeping deliriously with fever, I should have at least said a word telling you to be careful and come back safely…
But no matter how much I regretted it, what had passed couldn’t be changed. Since then, I would fall severely ill once in a while when the weather got cold and my heart softened.
I tried to hide it tightly, worried that if I told others I was sick, such a thing might happen again, but as always, I couldn’t fool Na Jihan’s eyes.
I said while crying with fever.
‘Don’t go.’
Don’t leave me alone and go away.
‘If you’re gone too, I really can’t…’
More than a novice’s first love not being fulfilled, more than us having to live obediently trapped in the vessel called lifelong friends.
Because losing you was a hundred times, a thousand times more frightening than such things.
Because I hated becoming a lost item, I wanted you to definitely stay by my side. I wanted you to stick to me persistently for any reason. Every time my stomach hurt, I would hold onto Na Jihan and say such things.
Why did I suddenly remember that novel I read before, <Lost and Found>? I blankly counted the few sentences that dimly sparkled through my hazily blurred consciousness.
It was probably because that novel had corners that strangely resembled our reality. Because the words I poured out saying don’t go, please stay for a long time even if you don’t give me the affection I secretly hope for, were exactly the same as what I had said to you sometime ago.
Like when I painfully suffered from fever, the current me is also…
“…owoo.”
“……”
“Seowoo, Yoon Seowoo. Come to your senses.”
My body shook, and my consciousness that had been buried somewhere in the unconscious struggled to surface.
Na Hyeonjun was looking down at me with a worried expression.
“I thought you were just dozing because you were tired for a moment… Since when have you been like this?”
What does ‘like this’ mean? When I blankly looked up at Na Hyeonjun, he pressed me in a stern voice.
“I’m asking since when you’ve had such a fever.”
It was now March.
Our first debut song, ‘First Dream’, was drawing a smooth upward trajectory. The performance on various music sites was good, and last week we were even nominated as a first-place candidate.
These days, variety shows for me and Na Jihan, and separately for Hapil Jae and Joo Lee Seon, had been decided. There was even talk of continuing this atmosphere, which had been well-received all around by fans, until the first mini-album.
In such a situation came today. It was the last music broadcast stage we would participate in with our debut song. The members were highly anticipating that we might finally get first place today, and I too was excited with hope for my first award in life.
It was good up to that point.
“…Last night? Dawn?”
After evening passed, my condition dropped sharply, and from morning on, my body kept shivering.
I muttered as if making excuses.
“It wasn’t severe. So I thought I’d get better soon.”
Na Hyeonjun clicked his tongue. At times like this, I really thought the Na family genes couldn’t be fooled – he was exactly like Na Jihan.
“You’re a ball of fire right now. You’re going to perform on stage like this?”
“I have to. I can’t not do it.”
I made a groaning sound and got up.
Since my makeup was finished first, I was resting in the waiting room first. I was just going to lean back for a moment, but it seemed I had fainted without knowing when.
Fortunately, the person who caught me was Na Hyeonjun. I was about to rub my stinging eyes but remembered I shouldn’t ruin my makeup and let out a deep sigh.
“I took fever medicine, so I’ll get better soon. Don’t tell the other members.”
“Do you think hiding it will solve the problem?”
“What else can I do if I don’t hide it?”
“Well, obviously today…”
“Don’t say we should skip the stage.”
My throat was scratchy and my head was heavy, but I wasn’t completely unable to move. I didn’t want to say it couldn’t be done without even trying.
“You know too, hyung. Today is the last week. How important today is for us.”
“Seowoo.”
“I’m not saying to hide it forever.”
I slightly turned my head to look at the mirror attached to one wall of the waiting room. Even to me, my complexion looked paler than usual, but since the broadcast makeup was thick, I thought I could somehow cover it up.
“Please. Just for today. No, just for a few hours.”
I grabbed Na Hyeonjun’s collar and pleaded earnestly.
“Just pretend you don’t know. Okay?”
The answer came from behind me.
“Pretend I don’t know what?”
“…Jihan.”
Na Jihan, who had come after even putting on his in-ear monitors, looked back and forth between me and Na Hyeonjun.
“The kid’s face is completely white.”
I avoided his gaze and answered quietly.
“The waiting room is a bit cold.”
When Na Jihan, who had approached with big steps, reached out his hand to me, I reflexively flinched and pulled back.
“…Don’t touch me.”
I felt a bit sorry seeing Na Jihan’s hand stopped abruptly in mid-air, but if he touched me now, he would most likely get angry.
‘How can I overcome that overprotectiveness?’
If Na Hyeonjun had said we should skip the stage, Na Jihan would have dragged me to the hospital without question. I didn’t want that.
“I just finished getting ready, and if you touch me, my hair and makeup will get ruined.”
Na Hyeonjun, who had been watching me with a complicated expression, finally let out a deep sigh.
“Your hair is already a bit ruined, you fool.”
“…Really?”
“Yeah. It’s about time the other kids finish up, so let’s ask the teacher to fix just the left side a bit. Come here.”
Perhaps expecting I would feel dizzy, Na Hyeonjun firmly grabbed my arm and helped me up. Thanks to that, I was able to get up well without staggering.
“I’ll be back.”
Na Jihan didn’t answer. Instead, he just looked once at Na Hyeonjun’s hand that was holding me up, and once at his own hand that was still stopped abruptly in mid-air.
Was the anxiety I glimpsed on his face just a mistake because of my fever? Since I hurriedly left the waiting room, it was something I couldn’t know.
“Yoon Seowoo.”
Right before getting my hair touched up again and entering the stage, Na Hyeonjun called me aside, saying he had something to deliver personally.
“I’m letting this slide because you want to do it, but… you know that having an accident on stage could turn into a bigger problem.”
I nodded my head. My vision was spinning and the inside of my nose was throbbing hot, but I could still hold onto my consciousness.
“I know.”
“If you’re going to do it anyway, do it properly.”
“…Yeah.”
I closed my eyes deeply and took a big breath, recalling the recording sites I had stood on for several weeks.
We weren’t the only ones who came to the broadcasting station from early morning without minding the long distance. Even thinking of the fans who were suffering in this cold weather for pre-recording, I had to do my best on stage.
I wanted to prove that I was someone whose time and affection weren’t wasted. I wanted to show a better appearance than expected.
For that, enduring a moment of hardship wouldn’t be such a difficult thing.
“Seowoo. Let’s go.”
“Yes, Haesol hyung.”
When I stood under the sparkling lights, strangely, it no longer hurt or felt difficult. It felt like the little bit of strength I had left exploded and granted my wish.
I didn’t make mistakes not only on that day’s stage but also during the ending recording, and even on the encore stage afterward. Arcus got their first first-place win on the last music broadcast of their activity period.
When they said I could say a word if I had any thoughts, I stood hesitantly in front of the microphone and couldn’t help but smile brightly.
“It feels like I’m dreaming.”
Without those words, I felt like I could never fully explain this overwhelming feeling.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
