Just like I expected, the biggest hidden boss was me. I was fine when I was in the car, but it got way worse right in front of the ocean. If you want to get technical, it was a car accident. So does the result matter more than the process? Either way, it’s drowning, right? And I just kept looping through stupid thoughts like that.
The individual shots and the group shots were still okay. Even though they sprayed water on us, we didn’t actually go into the sea. Smiling was a little more of a grind than usual, though.
The problem was the unit shots. Fuck, of all things, we had to be floating around on the water in a boat. A yacht isn’t going to sink, but still—what if? If we just stayed on the dock, I feel like I’d be fine, so why the hell are we going out on it? Seriously.
Past me, stop yelling “ocean” like an idiot during the concept meeting.
[ Condition 2│A kind idol leader talks with members often, even if it’s brief. ]
I don’t even have the headspace to speak—what am I supposed to say? First of all, we couldn’t keep delaying the shoot. Trying to relax as much as possible, I grabbed whichever member was nearby and just started talking—about literally anything. Even while I was talking, I had no idea what I was even saying, but anyway.
“What if… what if this thing sinks?”
“There’s no way.”
“Life jacket… ah, that’d hide the outfit. Then what about an inner tube? Should I at least bring an inner tube?”
“As if that would happen.”
“Still, ‘just in case’ is always a variable.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah, you never know. I mean, uh, just in case, I searched yacht accidents, and just this year alone—”
“Youngin.”
“Uh.”
“We’re not the only ones here.”
[ Condition 32│A perfect idol must be skilled at controlling facial expressions. ]
“Right?”
Cheon Sayun, with a faint smile and a soft voice, smoothly slipped his arm out of my grip. Yeah. When Cheon Sayun acted like this, it made me feel even more clearly that there were a lot of eyes around.
“Why are you shaking so much? Nothing worth shaking over has happened yet.”
That made me shake even more, you crazy bastard. Don’t talk like something is definitely going to happen. Words make things real.
It was hard to get control of my body when it was trembling on its own. It was better than earlier, but still. If the Status Window could manage even this kind of thing, wouldn’t that be nice? My feet wouldn’t move easily.
If I could feel myself shaking, that meant other people could tell too.
That’s why Cheon Sayun was saying that.
People were waiting. I could see Pyo Jaeho, already on board, waiting, along with the filming director and a few others.
They all looked like they were thinking, What’s going on? Because the guy who’d looked fine until a moment ago was suddenly like this.
[ Condition 32│A perfect idol must be skilled at controlling facial expressions. ]
[ Condition 4│A perfect idol must also devote great effort to managing condition. ]
[ Condition 65│A perfect idol must be mindful of watching eyes anywhere, anytime. ]
As proof, the Status Window had been working hard since earlier.
Around the Status Window I could see, countless Status Windows were stacked layer upon layer. Like always, there was a disgusting amount I had to keep.
If I couldn’t do what the Status Window told me in this state and got even one Caution, how many Warnings would that make already? …Jesus. If nothing else, I didn’t want to deal with random side effects again.
I slowly took deep breaths and pulled my expression together as much as I could. Maybe it had a conscience, because the Status Window didn’t slap me with a Caution right away. Yeah, if you have a conscience, then fuck.
“Man… Youngin, your complexion looks really bad. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. I’m fine. I think I just got a little overheated. Sorry.”
The filming director asked with concern, but I could see irritation and stifled frustration he couldn’t quite hide. Good thing I didn’t suggest taking a break.
It wasn’t like I wasn’t okay, either. The moment I cleared my head, I felt way better than earlier.
Thinking too much really is poison. Don’t think. Don’t think.
***
Manager Do Sajin approached Go Youngin carefully.
“You don’t need to go to the hospital, right? Do you want to drink this…?”
Before I could even properly answer, the manager shoved a bottle of drink into my hand. I didn’t move at all, head lowered.
‘I let my guard down…’
Unlike what I’d worried about, the shoot had been going okay, in its own way. With sea all around us, I don’t know what kind of state my head was in, but there wasn’t a lot of shouting, and nothing got stopped because of a problem.
When we checked the photos during a break, I looked paler than usual, so they redid my makeup overall.
If it ended there, it would’ve been a perfect shoot. The problem was after that.
Once I got up onto the yacht’s deck, I could feel the hull rocking even more clearly. Maybe that’s why. I felt anxious for no reason. I knew it wouldn’t happen, but I kept thinking it might flip over at any moment.
Just being up on this yacht already felt like a miracle, and the filming director wanted us to go toward the bow.
‘I’m insane. What if I suddenly can’t breathe over there?’
I came to my senses quickly since I didn’t actually touch anything, but the atmosphere was already ruined beyond saving. Fuck… and if it had ended there, maybe it would’ve been fine. But Pyo Jaeho—who got more sensitive than anyone when it came to anything related to music—didn’t let it go.
“Whether it’s a health issue or a condition issue, if there’s something wrong, you should’ve said it ahead of time and stepped out. What do you think you’re doing?”
I had no idea it would be this bad. If I’d known, I never would’ve even looked at the sea when we were planning the concept. But how was I supposed to say it?
If I just said I was scared of water, it was obvious they’d say, Then why didn’t you tell us sooner? And I’d only just realized it myself.
“This isn’t your first shoot. If your reaction is that strong, there’s no way you wouldn’t know yourself.”
“Uh, well… Youngin probably freaked out too. It’s not like he did it on purpose. He’s not someone who wouldn’t know he shouldn’t.”
[ Condition 2│A kind idol leader talks with members often, even if it’s brief. ]
The Status Window was still blaring, telling me to say something. And Cheon Sayun didn’t even bother stopping him—he just watched Pyo Jaeho talk, only glancing around now and then like he was pretending to hold him back. Rotten Cheon Sayun…
“This is on me. I thought I’d be fine. Sorry.”
“Since when? You’ve been fine up until now.”
I couldn’t even say “starting today.” I didn’t know enough to say anything. It was humiliating no matter how I looked at it. This is driving me insane… I still felt like my mind was somewhere else. Fuck, get it together. Get it together. At least be glad it wasn’t because you couldn’t manage your condition, and you got through it safely.
I kept repeating it to myself as I steadied my breathing. Forget it. You still finished it somehow. The results were fine. The results.
I was fidgeting with the bottle for no reason, when the alphabet logo printed on it suddenly caught my eye.
GEENI……
G, nee… Genie? Why does that sound familiar? A water droplet on the surface of the bottle slid down and ran along my thumb. It was cold.
I lifted my head. Manager Do Sajin was standing nearby, talking to someone on his phone. Was he reporting to CEO Kwon Daedo?
“Where did you get this?”
Maybe because I spoke so suddenly, Do Sajin lowered his phone in a fluster like he’d been startled, then gave an awkward laugh like he was embarrassed he’d reacted too strongly.
“Huh? What? Sorry. I didn’t hear you well—I was on a call.”
When I held up the bottle, the manager understood and let out a small sigh.
“Ah, that. Dongyun brought it.”
“Dongyun?” The way he said it was pretty friendly. When I looked where the manager pointed, the pie staffer was there.
Are you kidding me—why is that guy all the way out here?
Right then, I could see him far off, stuck to the camera as it moved. Just like during the live broadcast, he must’ve been the content staff.
Come to think of it, Cheon Sayun told me to watch out for that guy. But he didn’t look like he was doing anything big enough to “watch out” for. It didn’t even look like he was about to.
It was ridiculous no matter how I thought about it. Watch out how, exactly?
“He’s handing them out, telling everyone to drink. You should drink a little too, Youngin.”
“No, it’s okay.”
“Still, hold onto it. You’re still pale. Why are you sweating like this?”
Even while he was on the phone, the manager kept talking to me, sneaking glances and reading the room.
It looks like you’re the one sweating. I knew you were the type to watch people’s reactions, but when you keep doing it, it gets uncomfortable. It’s like I’ve become some useless sick patient nobody can handle.
If someone worries about you, you’re supposed to be grateful. It shouldn’t bother me. But for some reason, I couldn’t tell why it bothered me.
The way he showed it—more through actions than words—was a little much, and it felt burdensome.
So just as this spot was starting to feel uncomfortable—
“Youngin, are you okay? You’re not sick or anything, right? What happened on the boat earlier? Did you get scolded? You look like you have no energy at all.”
The pie staffer. What did Cheon Sayun say his name was? Joo Dongyun, I think. Anyway, that staffer came over and made a big fuss.
‘Perfect timing.’
Now it was twice as uncomfortable. Fuck…