Darren had just finished writing a short reply he would never send. He only needed to pour his heart out.
The night breeze blew gently, and for the first time in ten days… he sipped warm tea and looked up at the slowly brightening sky.
But just like the entertainment world that never sleeps, the peace didn't last long.
His phone suddenly exploded with notifications. Notifications he couldn't ignore this time.
#DarrenHwang_Liar
#DreamNight_DisbandTruth
"EXCLUSIVE: Darren Hwang Caught in Affair with Staff During Group Activity"
"DC Entertainment Reveals Manipulative Evidence Against Darren"
He couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Old, blurry photos—taken secretly—were edited to look as if he was getting cozy with a former staff member. Muted video clips were given misleading subtitles. The narrative was neatly constructed to paint Darren as the villain.
In DC Entertainment's official statement, they said:
["We finally feel the need to speak up due to the public's questions about why Dream Night disbanded so suddenly. One of the main reasons was the unprofessional behavior of one member who prioritized personal interests and even had a secret relationship that broke the team's trust."]
They didn't name him directly. But everyone knew who they meant.
Darren's fingers clenched his phone tighter. His head dropped. He closed his eyes.
"They want me destroyed…" He whispered.
His hands trembled. The tea in the cup shook. His chest tightened again. But this time, it wasn't fear. It was anger.
Not just toward DC Entertainment.
But also toward himself—for ever thinking he could rest for a moment. For believing the storm had passed just because he stayed silent.
His tears fell again. Not from weakness.
But because the world just wouldn't let him rise.
And for the first time, Darren realized—silence… was no longer an option.
"If I stay silent, they'll keep writing my story however they want."
He wiped his tears, grabbed his phone, and opened an app—not to read, but to speak.
***
In Seoul, Chan Hee was alone in his practice room. It had been three hours since he tried writing a new verse, but not a single line felt sincere. Everything he wrote sounded empty. Flat. Like himself.
He sighed and unlocked his phone, opening the old Dream Night group chat—which now was nothing more than a museum of anger and accusations.
Then, for some reason, he opened a gallery folder he hadn't touched in a while:
[DREAM era - behind.]
A folder full of hope.
One short video caught his attention. A clip only eleven seconds long. It had been taken secretly by another staff member during a break from practice, a few months before the group broke up.
Chan Hee pressed play.
In the video, Darren was sitting in the corner of the practice room, exhausted. A female staff member—the one now rumored to be in the scandal—approached with a bottle of water and said:
"Darren-ssi, don't push yourself too hard, or you'll faint again."
Darren gave a faint nod and replied weakly,
"I have to… so DC has no reason to throw me away."
Chan Hee immediately paused the video. That sentence hit like a slap.
Darren… afraid of being discarded?
Darren, who always seemed the calmest, the strongest… was actually haunted by insecurity?
The clip was clear. The audio, real. No romanticization. Just exhaustion. And the fear, so raw on the maknae's face.
Chan Hee replayed the clip three times. The more he listened, the more his defenses crumbled.
"If Darren really said that… then…"
His eyes widened. His throat tightened.
All the rumors. The slander. Everything they had believed—might've been wrong.
That night, in his small apartment in Songpa District, Chan Hee couldn't sleep. He stared at the ceiling, trying to suppress the storm in his chest.
He started remembering the small things:
Darren's smile before going on stage.
How Darren stayed quiet when he was angry—not out of spite, but to avoid worsening the situation. Suddenly, guilt began to eat away at him.
What if they had truly accused Darren wrongly?
What if… DC had deliberately made Darren the scapegoat?
Frustrated, Chan Hee ran his fingers through his blonde hair. He was furious. He wanted to fight back—for Dream Night. For Darren. Their precious maknae, now torn down.
His eyes reddened.
With trembling hands, Chan Hee opened his phone and scrolled to a muted contact: Darren Hwang.
And for the first time in weeks of silence, he typed a short message.
Even if he knew Darren would never forgive him. It remained unread, but Chan Hee knew one thing:
He would search for the truth, and prove it to the world.
That DC was truly deceitful.
***
Darren had just seen the barrage of cruel comments, curse words, even netizens telling him he didn't belong in Korea—telling him to go back to America.
But in the middle of that ruin, an email arrived—from an unfamiliar but serious address.
From: James Eldridge - AURA Talent Management, Los Angeles
Subject: Collaboration and Vocalist Recruitment Opportunity
["We've been following your journey since Dream Night's international breakthrough. Your tone, your control, your stage presence—these are rare. If you're ready for a new chapter, we'd like to open a door for you in the U.S."]
Darren reread it three times. His eyes welled up—not with joy, but chaos. The offer was real. Legitimate. Attached was a draft contract and virtual meeting schedule.
They wanted to make him a solo artist in a global collaboration project.
He closed his laptop slowly. The walls of his room felt like they were closing in again.
Part of him wanted to scream "yes" immediately—to run away from the wreckage of the past.
But another part… was afraid. Afraid he'd be called a traitor. Afraid people would say he abandoned the team at their worst moment. More than anything… afraid the accusations against him might be true.
There was a pause in that small room. Darren exhaled again. He didn't want to rush this decision. He replied to the agent in the U.S., saying he needed more time to think. His mind wasn't ready.
His heart still too shaken to decide something this big.
He placed his phone on the table and stepped outside for some night air, like usual. But when he returned, the screen lit up. One message. The sender:
Jung Chan Hee.
For a moment, Darren's heart stopped beating.
["Renno-ya, can we meet?"]
No explanation. Just a simple Kakao message. No clarification. No long text. Just four words—but enough to stir a storm in his chest. His hands trembled as he picked up the phone. His mind flooded with possibilities.
"Why now?"
"Does he just want to apologize?"
"Or… is this a final confrontation?"
Darren sat on his bed, staring at the screen like he was reading a message from a ghost of his past. His eyes burned.
He remembered how Chan Hee had been the first to welcome him when he joined Dream Night.
How he insisted Darren call him hyung even though they were only a year apart.
How he always snuck snacks into the practice room.
How furious he was whenever someone criticized Darren in their early debut days.
But all of that felt so far away now. Destroyed by rumors. Eroded by silence and misunderstanding.
Even Chan Hee wouldn't listen to Darren back then.
Darren took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He opened the message again, reading it slowly, as if to make sure he wasn't mistaken.
The word Renno at the start—it wasn't formal. It wasn't small talk. That was the nickname Chan Hee had made up for Darren himself.
He was proud of it—even on variety shows three years ago, he'd teased Darren with it.
Even during concerts, when it was Darren's turn to sing, Chan Hee would hype the crowd by yelling that name. Fans would scream it back with the rhythm.
That… felt real.
***