"Hyung, I don't understand at all what you were talking about earlier at the hospital."
Sehan glanced at Gomsuk, who had been walking in an odd manner—as if his body was moving ahead while his consciousness was left far behind.
Gomsuk's head was bowed, and his gaze… was empty, drifting, like the silhouette of a small boat tossing on the water's surface without wind, without direction. Every step he took looked hesitant yet continued, as if there was a thin thread pulling him forward from somewhere.
There was something he was seeing, something that wasn't in that room. Another world—quieter, heavier—that only appears when someone is trying to reassemble fallen pieces of scattered thoughts.
"What do you mean, she's the one who took care of you?"
"And what do you mean by you being 'treated'?"
"What on earth happened to you?"
Those three questions slipped from Sehan's mouth quickly, in rapid succession, though his tone remained soft.
Once he finished speaking and they passed the staff walking hurriedly, Sehan reflexively bowed briefly—a polite gesture immediately followed by Gomsuk and the others.
"Who would have thought… that the girl truly is the daughter of this agency's CEO."
Sehan's murmur slipped quietly from between his lips—so silent it was almost swallowed by the air, yet clear enough to be caught by Gomsuk's ears beside him.
Every time someone passed—whether it was staff with piles of files or idols rushing to their next schedule—Sehan automatically lowered his face. That movement appeared repeatedly, without pause, because the building's hallways were never empty.
"Evening is approaching, and yet this building is still so noisy?"
"And… what was with them earlier? Why did they stare at us in such a rush, shocked, and as if filled with questions?"
It was indeed true.
From the moment they stepped out of the elevator and began walking down the corridor, all eyes were fixed directly on them.
Some only glanced briefly and immediately looked away, but others had eyes that widened, as if they were seeing something they weren't supposed to witness.
Others stared with a look that was soft yet piercing; the mournful gaze usually seen in someone who is grieving, as if they were watching five people who had just lost something they deeply loved.
When they unintentionally crossed paths with one or two members of another group who were joking—laughing lightly, talking casually—the moment turned swift and awkward. The laughter that was once free suddenly broke off as their gazes met.
In a split second, the idols' expressions hardened, then they hurriedly bowed, giving a small salute or merely showing recognition before rushing away at a half-run.
And strangely, once the distance between them was far enough, that broken laughter began to be heard again.
"Did something worse happen than what occurred this afternoon at the pedestrian crossing?"
"Why is everyone here acting so strange?"
"Is it because we're still new idols in this agency?"
"But… shouldn't they welcome us with a greeting or something like that?"
"Isn't that what they usually do to new people? Instead of staring with a gaze that seems to contain threats and distrust like this."
Sehan's murmurs flowed continuously.
His voice was so small that only the space immediately around them could catch it.
And as if the universe responded to the murmurs that had been spoken from his lips, Bunhang's voice was heard from behind.
"Woah! Isn't this us?"
The exclamation made Sehan turn around.
There, he saw Bunhang's face frozen, holding his phone in both hands. Bunhang's face conveyed both confusion and shock simultaneously, like someone suddenly seeing a foreign reflection in a mirror.
Meanwhile, Oduun, walking beside him, also leaned his head closer to the screen, his gaze blinking slowly as if trying to ensure what he saw was indeed real.
"It seems… now I understand why everyone here is staring at us, like they're seeing ghosts in broad daylight."
Oduun's comment sounded flat, calm, but his tone left a subtle vibration that immediately made Sehan raise an eyebrow.
Sehan stepped back slowly, adjusting his distance, then moved to Bunhang's side.
Meanwhile, Namsek let out a long, resigned sigh, then stepped forward to walk parallel with Gomsuk, whose steps remained light yet her eyes stared blankly at a place unknown.
"What are you looking at?"
Sehan asked while leaning in, his eyes trying to catch whatever was displayed on Bunhang's phone screen.
However, several of Bunhang's fingers covered parts of the screen, creating thin gaps like window slats that only revealed a small piece of the world behind them.
Through those gaps, Sehan only found deep black shadows on the screen—an expanse of darkness filled with small points of light, like the shimmer of stardust drifting into the dark.
Bunhang, who had been staring at his phone screen, flinched slightly when he noticed Sehan's presence on his left side.
He turned quickly, his eyes sparkling like someone who had just found a secret clue dropped right at his feet.
"Oh, Hyung!"
He immediately raised his phone, offering it to Sehan with a gesture almost like a child wanting to share his important discovery.
"Look at this, Hyung."
His index finger tapped the screen surface.
"Isn't this us?"
His words crept out slowly, as if he himself couldn't yet believe the silhouettes trapped within the frame.
"It seems… someone unknowingly recorded our presence, then uploaded it to Instagram."
He handed the phone entirely to Sehan.
"Hyung, you can also swipe the screen sideways if you want. Apparently, it's not just that video—that person also took several photos of us. There's even a picture of Brian Hyung looking panicked… and also the ambulance taking Miss Margaret."
Sehan immediately accepted the phone without many words.
He lowered the phone right beneath his eyes, bringing it closer slightly, allowing the screen light to sweep across his face. And in that very second, both his eyes slowly furrowed as if trying to comprehend something illogical.
The video, lasting three minutes and twenty seconds, played without sound.
The image resolution was slightly blurred, as if recorded with a trembling hand or a cheap camera that accidentally captured an incident no one wanted to be known. Yet, despite the blurriness, the shadows within were clear enough to be recognizable; figures moving nervously and piling onto each other in panic.
The first second of the video began with Brian, their manager, seen trying to help Margaret stand up. His movements were fast yet cautious, like someone accustomed to handling chaotic situations but never truly prepared for this one.
But his efforts were immediately swatted away by Margaret's two friends, who appeared far more panicked—so frantic that their movements looked chaotic and they kept bumping into each other.
Margaret's face was almost invisible; only the faint line of her hair and the arch of her slumped body were visible. Even the faces of her two friends weren't much clearer—just pale shadows caught by a lens incapable of focusing.
There was no sound to explain what truly happened, no dialogue or screams that could provide context. Only movement, and chaos in silence.
Sehan pressed the screen to stop the running video from playing.
"Did this person do it intentionally, or is the phone camera quality just so poor that Miss Margaret and her two companions' faces appear blurry, while Brian Hyung's face here is slightly clearer?"
"Or… could this person actually be a hater?"
"Someone who, for whatever reason, suppresses the faces of people from this agency only to then bring them down with derogatory comments and exaggerating the actual incident?"
He released the pressure of his finger, allowing the video to run again.
In the recording, Margaret was seen moving both her hands—a slow but firm gesture—trying to calm her two friends who still looked distraught. Although her face wasn't clear, her body movements were enough to convey that she was assuring them she was fine, or at least trying to make them believe so.
That small chaos lasted for a few seconds, until the video reached the one minute and twenty-five second mark. At that point, all five of them were finally seen exiting the car.
Sehan pressed the screen again.
"It seems this person is indeed a hater."
"Even the faces of the five of us appear intentionally made clearer here."
"I am sure that before uploading it to Instagram, this person must have edited it first. They made the recording slightly blurry, then deliberately highlighted only Brian Hyung's face and our faces."
He released his finger again, allowing the video to move toward the end—when the ambulance arrived, when Margaret was carried inside, when the five of them finally followed the ambulance from behind using the car.
After the video ended, Sehan swiped the screen sideways. A series of photos appeared one by one. The photos were just as blurry as the video he had watched before. Yet, despite the blurriness, the photos were enough to clarify something: Brian's tense face and their shocked and frozen faces.
Sehan closed the phone with a breath that slowly faded. He handed the phone back to Bunhang.
"It's best if you don't allow yourself to think about things you really shouldn't worry about."
"They are only trying to break one incident down into pieces of a nightmare that never truly happened."
Bunhang was just about to retrieve his phone when the surge of Oduun's voice cut off that motion.
"Aren't you at all curious about the comments, Hyung?" Oduun raised an eyebrow.
Sehan glanced briefly, a furrow appearing slowly on his brow.
"Do I really need to read comments that I already know just by looking at the footage and the photos?"
"No, right?"
Sehan lowered his gaze momentarily before placing the phone right back in Bunhang's hand, as if ensuring the object returned safely to its owner.
His hand slowly retreated, and he then folded both his arms across his chest, his posture stiff but calm, like someone holding back a wave of emotion that had just struck.
His eyes stared straight ahead, empty yet full of thought, holding back something difficult to express in words.
"They are truly wasting their time discussing something that isn't their business, yet they insist as if they were there and know everything."
He sighed faintly.
"Humans are the creatures I dislike the most."
"Even if they appear perfect because they are gifted with reason, if that reason isn't used properly, they are no different from luxury goods that end up in the junk heap—beautiful on the outside, but completely non-functional."
Sehan's sharp murmur immediately made Bunhang and Oduun exchange glances with a vaguely questioning look.
No words were spoken; only gazes exchanged, as if they were discussing in silence about what should be done next.
But, in the end, they both simply shrugged their shoulders—a sign that they had truly given up on what Sehan said.
Namsek, walking ahead of them, absorbed every fragment of the conversation behind his back.
The series of voices crept in like a thin wind sneaking through his hoodie collar, making his breath slowly dissipate—a brief moment, yet carrying an internal echo that curled with a hesitant rhythm.
"So… it's not just on X, huh?"
"They're even spreading it on Instagram too?"
"I wonder… is all social media now buzzing about the incident? To the point that the atmosphere is chaotic because there hasn't been a single confirmation from the Agency."
"If that's the case, the reason the five of us were summoned by the Director makes sense."
He took a long breath, letting the cold air fill his lungs before closing his eyes for a moment. As that breath slowly escaped his lips, his shoulders slumped slightly, like a burden he had held finally was given room to lower, even if just a little.
Both his hands slipped into the hoodie pockets, then his gaze drifted to the side, linking onto the figure of Gomsuk walking beside him.
"But what makes me wonder even more is…"
Namsek paused that internal flow for a moment.
His eyes traced Gomsuk's face carefully, almost like someone afraid to touch a valuable painting—afraid to damage it, yet too eager to look closer.
Gomsuk walked with a straight posture, as if the life around him didn't have enough reason to bend his back.
But his gaze… that was another story. His eyes were never truly raised, as if there was an invisible line holding his gaze parallel to the floor line without making him look like he was bowing down.
"Gomsuk Hyung."
Namsek's call slipped out softly.
He kept his voice low so only Gomsuk could hear him.
Gomsuk, hearing his name called, flinched slightly, like a dry leaf suddenly falling when the wind touched it just once.
Both his eyes widened—vast, empty, surprised—as if he had just been pulled out of a long dream he hadn't realized was enveloping him.
He turned towards Namsek.
"Did you just call me Hyung?"
Gomsuk's questioning tone sounded flat—so flat that it seemed to have no space for any emotion to cling to its surface.
"You don't usually call me that."
"So… does that mean you are also curious about what I was going to say at the hospital earlier? Before the Director rushed in and broke down the patient's door, which didn't give me time to explain clearly?"
His tone was still the same—flat, immobile—but now there was something different, something that made him sound more like someone who was too lazy to speak than someone who was answering.
Namsek immediately raised an eyebrow.
"You can actually space out while walking now, Hyung?"
The questioning tone flowed with a mixture of astonishment and sheer disbelief that just slipped out.
Gomsuk simply let out a sigh, a tired breath that fell slowly from his chest.
"I wasn't spacing out. It's just that my mind isn't calm right now. You must understand what I mean. So, let me think for a moment… no need to worry."
It was clear that he said this intentionally to shift the direction of the conversation.
However, Namsek's curiosity crept even deeper, like a fine root infiltrating the crevices of his mind without him realizing it.
The thing Gomsuk had said at the hospital earlier was still hanging, like thin smoke refusing to vanish despite the air around it constantly moving and changing.
There was a curiosity knocking too hard, hoping Gomsuk would open that door without being asked.
"Who… is Margaret to you, actually?"
"You looked terrified when you saw her knee bleeding earlier. Even at the hospital, your face was deathly pale, as if you had lost someone meaningful to you—though that might just be a passing thought."
"And your words, about her taking care of you… what did you mean? Did you know her before us?"
Namsek's tone changed into a serious, straight line, his gaze full of demands, like someone who had decided he wouldn't back down until he got an answer.
Gomsuk lowered his gaze.
He momentarily diverted his direction of sight, turning briefly to the other side, as if looking for a place where his thoughts could anchor before he finally decided to speak.
But just as his lips began to open, the voice that might have come out stopped. His eyes caught something—two silhouettes standing in front of the Director's room door.
The two figures were reflected faintly by the white hallway light—still, close together, as if waiting for something. Gomsuk squinted his eyes to confirm whose figures were standing there.
And when their distance was close enough to see clearly, Gomsuk suddenly stopped. The halt was so spontaneous that everyone walking behind him stopped as well.
One line, one surprise—and various pairs of eyes immediately focused on the two figures.
"Isn't that Miss Margaret?" Namsek's question flowed softly.
"And isn't that the Doctor who also entered the patient's room after the Director went in?"
Sehan added his voice from behind, sounding lower yet full of scrutiny.
"What is he doing here? Is he visiting Miss Margaret? And what are the two of them doing standing so close together over there?"
This time, Oduun's voice crept in between them, mixing astonishment and caution.
"Don't tell me they are peeking into the room? Brian Hyung must be in there too, right?"
Bunhang added, standing right in the middle of them—like someone trying to stitch pieces of possibilities into one conclusion that even he wasn't fully convinced of.