The moment the ink on the contract was dry, the atmosphere in the office shifted. Kang Min-hyuk's paternal warmth evaporated, replaced by the brisk efficiency of a CEO. He looked at Haneul not as a discovery, but as a component that needed to be slotted into a machine, and fast.
"Kim Kwang-soo," Min-hyuk said into his intercom. A moment later, a stern-faced man in his late thirties with sharp, tired eyes entered the room. "This is Seo Haneul, the final member of 'Eclipse'."
The words barely registered with Haneul. Final member? Eclipse? He had pictured himself in a sterile classroom, learning basic dance steps with a dozen other new faces. He assumed a "group" was a distant, theoretical goal, something one might be chosen for after years of proving their worth.
Min-hyuk continued, oblivious to Haneul's internal confusion. "That's the group's debut name. They're in the final stages of preparation. Debut is scheduled for three months from now." He gestured to his new recruit. "Take him to the dorm, get him settled, and put him in afternoon dance practice. He's far behind."
A cold dread washed over Haneul, paralyzing him in his chair. Final stages? Three months? The room seemed to tilt. This wasn't an orientation; it was a deployment. He wasn't joining a class; he was being dropped onto a speeding train just before it reached its destination. The boys from the lobby... the arrogant Ji-hoon... they weren't just random trainees. They were Eclipse. And he was the stranger being forced upon them at the eleventh hour. The weight of his signature, which had felt momentous before, now felt catastrophic.
Manager Kim gave Haneul a brief, assessing look that now made perfect sense. It was a look of profound skepticism. "This way," he said, his voice flat.
There were no more words of encouragement. Haneul was a problem to be solved. He numbly followed Manager Kim into a rattling elevator that descended into the heart of the building. They were led to a cramped apartment two floors below ground, a space devoid of natural light. Manager Kim opened a door to reveal a room dominated by two sets of metal bunk beds. The air smelled of sweat, laundry detergent, and instant noodles.
Choi Ji-hoon was lounging on a lower bunk. He looked up, his expression instantly souring. A boy with a bright, open face was stretching on the floor, and a younger, quiet-looking boy was sitting on another bunk, a notebook of lyrics resting on his lap. They were his group members. He was seeing his team for the first time.
"This is Seo Haneul," Manager Kim announced. "He's your new member. Make space for him. Dance practice is at 2 PM. Don't be late." With that, he was gone.
Ji-hoon broke the silence, his voice dripping with scorn. "You've got to be kidding me. Three months from debut and they stick us with a guy who's never set foot in a practice room? What were you, a barista?" he asked, though it didn't sound like a question. It sounded like an accusation.
Before Haneul could find his voice, the friendly boy jumped up. "Hey! Don't mind him," he said, extending a hand. "I'm Noah. I'm from Sydney. And that's Min-jun," he motioned to the quiet boy, who gave a small, shy bow. "Welcome to Eclipse, I guess. The only open bed is that top bunk."
Haneul nodded, the group's name still feeling alien. He threw his single bag onto the mattress of the empty top bunk as Ji-hoon watched him. "Don't slow us down," Ji-hoon said, his voice low and threatening. "We've been working for this for five years. We're not going to fail because the CEO found a pet project."
At precisely 2 PM, Haneul was shoved into practice clothes and led to the mirror room. The choreographer, a petite woman with an iron gaze called "Teacher Bae," wasted no time. The music started—a powerful, bass-heavy track. It was their debut song. And Haneul was immediately, hopelessly lost. The mirror was a cruel witness, reflecting his awkward, stumbling form next to the fluid perfection of the three boys who had lived and breathed this routine for months.
"Stop!" Teacher Bae's voice cracked like a whip. "Again! Ji-hoon, Noah, Min-jun, your timing is perfect. Don't let the new one drag you into his mess!"
They started again. And again. The humiliation was absolute. Hours later, Teacher Bae finally called an end to it. Haneul's body was a symphony of pain. He stumbled back to the dorm and collapsed onto the floor. He had agreed to this to let his heart speak, but at the moment, all it was doing was hammering with panic and regret.
A plastic bottle of a sports drink rolled to a stop in front of him. He looked up to see Noah smiling down at him, holding a small jar of muscle relief balm.
"First day's the worst," Noah said. "Especially when you're thrown in the deep end. Ji-hoon's just scared. We all are. A new member this late... it's a huge risk."
Haneul could only grunt in response, his body seizing up.
"Here," Noah said, tossing him the jar. "Listen, after vocals, the studio is free. I can walk you through the basic eight-count. It'll get easier. It has to."
Lying on the cold floor, Haneul looked at the simple, kind offer. He had survived day one of an impossible task. He had no idea how he would get through the next ninety. But Noah's offer was a tiny spark in the suffocating darkness. He had an ally. It would have to be enough.