We played "Frequency" until my fingers felt like raw sausages and my throat tasted like copper.
Five hours. Fifty takes.
"Again," Jin-hyun would say, tapping his snare.
"Faster," Leo would correct, marking his sheet music.
"Louder," Myung-Dae would grumble, adjusting his bass amp.
By 2:00 AM, the adrenaline had crashed, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion. I collapsed onto the club room sofa, staring at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above. My left eye was throbbing again, and my bun had disintegrated into a bird's nest of tangles.
"You look dead, Mountain," Jun-seo said, wiping sweat from his forehead with a towel. He looked surprisingly fresh, his skin glowing even under the harsh fluorescent lights.
"I feel dead," I croaked. "Is it always... this intense?"
"You're just not used to the grind," Jun-seo chuckled, unscrewing a water bottle. "Back in the day, we used to pull all-nighters three times a week. Jin-woo would always fall asleep standing up and—"
Jun-seo stopped mid-sentence. The name hung in the air like a curse.
He froze, his smile vanishing. He slowly turned his head to look at the corner of the room.
Myung-Dae was packing his bass into its case. He had stopped moving the moment Jun-seo spoke. His back was stiff.
The silence that followed wasn't the tired silence of a finished practice. It was cold. Sharp.
Myung-Dae zipped up the case with a harsh zzzip. He slung it over his shoulder and walked toward the door. As he passed Jun-seo, he stopped.
"Don't get comfortable, Dog," Myung-Dae said, his voice low and devoid of emotion. "Playing music together... it doesn't mean I've forgiven you."
Jun-seo didn't answer. He just looked at the floor, his grip on the water bottle tightening until the plastic crinkled.
Myung-Dae walked out. The door clicked shut.
"I... I should go too," Leo whispered, looking terrified. "My grandpa is going to kill me. I broke curfew three hours ago."
He grabbed his violin case and scurried out like a frightened mouse, bowing hastily to Jin-hyun as he passed.
"See you tomorrow!" Leo squeaked, and then he was gone.
Jun-seo sighed, a long, heavy sound. He picked up his bag.
"Get some sleep, San," he said quietly, not meeting my eyes. "We have the demo presentation at 4 PM."
Then he left, leaving a heavy cloud of guilt in his wake.
I was alone.
Well, almost alone.
Click. Click. Click.
I turned my head. Park Jin-hyun was still sitting on the drum throne, spinning his sticks. He wasn't packing up. He was watching me with an amused, predatory glint in his silver eyes.
"Is there something on my face?" Jin-hyun asked, tilting his head.
I sat up, groaning as my back cracked. I walked over to the window to check my reflection.
I looked like a ghost that had been dragged through a hedge backward. My skin was pale, emphasizing the deep, dark bags under my eyes. My hair—which Mrs. Lee had so carefully styled this morning—was half-up, half-down, a chaotic bun hanging on for dear life. My swollen eye had turned a lovely shade of pink and yellow.
Why do all the handsome people have to be such cowards? I thought bitterly, glancing from my wrecked reflection to Jin-hyun's perfectly composed face. Jun-seo runs away from the past. Myung-Dae hides behind anger. And this guy...
I turned around to face him.
"You're staring," Jin-hyun noted, catching the stick in one hand. "Do you want to ask me something? Go on, then. I'm in a surprisingly good mood. Usually, I charge for interviews."
I looked at him. The Hanyeong spy. The cousin of the Gossip Queen. The only one who seemed to treat this whole tragedy like a game.
"Everyone is too scared to talk about it," I said, my voice raspy. "Jun-seo flinches if you say the name. Myung-Dae wants to punch anyone who asks. Leo looks like he's walking through a minefield."
I took a step closer to the drums.
"But I got dragged into this. I'm the one getting punched. I think I have a right to know."
I locked eyes with him.
"What happened to Park Jin-woo?" I asked. "What really broke W-Naut?"
The playful spinning of the drumstick stopped.
Jin-hyun didn't look away. He didn't get angry like Myung-Dae or sad like Jun-seo.
Instead, the corners of his mouth curled up slowly. It wasn't his usual charming grin. It was a sharp, secretive smile that didn't reach his eyes.