There was a day like that.
When I came to school, a few chrysanthemum flowers were scattered on my desk.
Since it wasn’t unusual for embarrassing graffiti to be scrawled on my desk, I instinctively assumed the flowers were just another kind of insult.
I picked up a chrysanthemum stem and stared at it quietly.
Dirt fell off with a flick—it looked like it had been pulled from the roadside.
“Congratulations.”
Someone said.
“Congratulations.”
Another voice followed.
Clap clap clap clap clap!
As if the word “congratulations” was infectious, soon everyone around me was clapping and congratulating me.
“Congratulations.”
“Congratulations.”
“Congratulations.”
“Congratulations.”
“Congratulations.”
“Congratulations.”
“Congratulations.”
“Congratulations.”
“Congratulations.”
“Congratulations.”
“Congratulations.”
“Congratulations.”
“Congratulations.”
“Congratulations.”
“Congratulations.”
“Congratulations.”
“Congratulations.”
.
.
.
I didn’t care. I threw the chrysanthemum into the trash can.
“Eunyul.”
Someone grabbed my shoulder and spoke.
It was the first person who had congratulated me.
“I heard your dad died?”
He asked, and I answered truthfully.
“Yeah.”
“That’s seriously something to celebrate, huh?”
At that, I couldn’t reply.
It was the fourth day since my father had passed away.
The weekend passed, and it was Monday morning.
[Ryu Eunyul, this is regarding your advancement to the male idol division finals.]
[Count Your Blessings male idol division ranking has been updated.]
[Mentor Chaeya has requested a meeting with you after breakfast.]
[After lunch, there will be an announcement in the lobby regarding the results of the third final test and details for the fourth test. Attendance is mandatory.]
Swish!
I pulled up the blinds, and sunlight poured in.
It was blinding.
I had stayed holed up in the dorm all weekend.
To block out the outside world—and myself.
There was no benefit to gauging public opinion in my current situation.
My mother had called me endlessly, but I didn’t have the time or energy to answer.
My new ranking was 16th.
I’d fallen cleanly from 5th.
Seeing the numbers, I could guess how the public had swayed over the weekend.
<Creature.>
The Star Hated by All landed on the bridge of my nose.
<Are you prepared to move again?>
“I just took a short break over the weekend.”
While I stayed holed up in the room, the Star had silently fluttered around me.
It was annoying, like flies buzzing around a corpse.
<As I’ve said many times, our goal is victory.>
The Star circled me as I got dressed.
<So I ask—your goal… it hasn’t changed, has it?>
“No need to worry.”
I held out my hand to the Star.
“My goal’s still the same.”
<Good.>
The Star lightly settled on the back of my hand.
<Then how about washing up before you dress? Although, coming from a dirty fly like me, that’s rich….>
Oh, right.
I’d forgotten to wash up.
“Hah…”
Pretending to be sane is exhausting.
After barely finishing getting ready, I headed to the fourth floor.
That’s where the mentors’ offices were.
I stood before the door with Chaeya’s nameplate.
The purpose of the meeting was obvious.
‘It’s to ask about the Boy A incident.’
I sighed and was about to knock when—
“Eunyul, your sigh might bring the whole building down.”
Chaeya’s voice came from behind.
“Good morning.”
I turned and greeted her.
“I came because I received the meeting request notification.”
“Good. I wasn’t sure you’d show, but here you are. That’s admirable. I mean it, not being sarcastic.”
I followed her into the office.
“Did you get any sleep? Want some coffee?”
She asked as she activated the capsule coffee machine.
“I’m fine.”
I replied, but she set a hot cup beside me anyway.
“Drink it. Calm your nerves.”
“…Thank you.”
“The internet is in a frenzy over you. Did you check?”
I shook my head.
“Good. Best not to for now. I called you in today because I have a few questions. Regardless, something about a contestant came up, and CYB needs to make a statement.”
“…Yes.”
“Then I’ll get straight to the point.”
Chaeya sighed.
“Are you considering withdrawing voluntarily?”
“…No.”
She looked a little startled—maybe because I answered too quickly.
Then she smiled as if nothing had happened.
“I can be pretty picky…. But I’ll put that aside and speak as a senior today.”
She rested her chin on her hand and looked at me.
“For a while, you’ll be under a lot of scrutiny. The Boy A incident is politically sensitive, and a lot of people hate seeing idols involved in politics. But from what I see, you haven’t done anything wrong. I have a relative who benefited from the support because of the Boy A case…. Personally, I think you’re amazing.”
She chuckled awkwardly, perhaps embarrassed by her own kindness.
“That’s all I had to say. CYB supports you staying. An official statement will be out in a few days.”
“Thank you.”
I stood up.
“Ah…”
I hesitated, then asked,
“How is contestant Ha Min doing…?”
“Ha Min has…”
Chaeya sighed deeply.
“…expressed his intention to withdraw voluntarily.”
<Why are you going to see him?>
Ignoring the Star’s question, I sprinted down the hallway.
<He’s no longer our rival!>
“I know.”
I stopped and said,
“I know, but… there’s something I need to confirm.”
I had no idea why the original of my suicide note was with Ha Min.
It should’ve been in my bedroom drawer back home.
‘So why…?’
I had to figure out how it ended up in his hands.
‘Maybe he had help from someone.’
That ominous thought crossed my mind.
“Ryu Eunyul.”
Before I could prepare myself, I ran into Ha Min.
He was walking down the hall with his suitcase when he called my name.
There was a strange coldness in his eyes.
“Did you come to see me?”
I nodded.
“You dumb fuck.”
He flung his suitcase and approached me.
Bang!
He slammed the wall.
“Did you really think I didn’t know?”
“You saw my diary?”
I asked, and he smirked.
“I wasn’t the only one. All your fellow trainees knew. We all read it. I just happen to be the only one who survived.”
“Then why keep it secret until now? You could’ve exposed me way earlier.”
“Didn’t think you’d rise this far. Thought you were just a pitiful loser. But whoops—suddenly you’re in the top 5 and hanging out with someone like Han Iro? Yeah, I couldn’t stomach it anymore.”
“If you’ve already ruined me, why quit? Why voluntarily withdraw?”
“’Cause it doesn’t matter anymore. All of this.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t fucking know!”
Ha Min’s voice echoed down the hallway.
Other contestants peeked out from their rooms.
After briefly glancing at their blank expressions, I turned back to Ha Min.
“Don’t say you don’t know.”
I said.
“We trained together for years to get here. Can you just go back to school? Pass exams and get into college? I doubt it.”
“…None of that matters anymore.”
“Why do you have my suicide note?”
“Oh, that?”
Ha Min brought his mouth close to my ear.
“It’s fake.”
“…What?”
“My Constellation—well, I guess calling them that’s a joke now, since our contract’s about to end—could see a designated person’s greatest fear. Pretty useless ability, huh? But it came in handy.”
“…So that’s it.”
I sighed.
I vaguely remembered hearing about Ha Min’s Constellation’s power during the third prelims.
But what he said now didn’t match that.
Was he lying back then?
“Well… thanks for explaining.”
I smiled.
“I’m not going to withdraw. Also, I’ve been meaning to say this—before I became a trainee, I never had a friend my age. Maybe that’s why I’m bad at getting close to people. It’s embarrassing to admit, but when I think of someone in my head, I always add their last name. But with you, I didn’t.”
“So what? What do you want me to do with that?”
“Nothing. Just…”
I looked him straight in the eyes.
“Don’t cry, Ha Min.”
“…What?”
He touched his eyes in confusion.
“Why… Why are you doing this…?”
He wiped away the tears in disbelief.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? Why are you crying?”
“I don’t… I don’t even know why. I don’t understand myself…”
As I listened to him, I became certain.
<…Creature.>
‘Did you notice too?’
<You realized it as well. That weeping creature is radiating an unknown power. I cannot be sure, but it… surpasses even me in my Incarnated form.>
If even the Star said that, my hunch was probably correct.
Something’s off about him.
The more I listened, the more convinced I became.
Even though we’d grown distant during CYB, Ha Min and I had been fellow trainees for years.
His rank had been slipping, sure, but he was never the kind to completely snap like this.
‘And then there’s that…’
That unknown force the Star mentioned.
Ha Min’s Constellation was, at best, A-rank.
Even as an Incarnation, there were few beings in the world that could radiate something more powerful than the Star.
‘…Did someone mess with him?’
Hypnosis? That was the only outlandish explanation I could think of.
But such a dangerous power couldn’t belong to an ordinary Constellation.
<Indeed. Papa would never allow such a power.>
‘What the hell is going on?’
I shelved the question for now and grabbed Ha Min’s trembling shoulder as he cried uncontrollably.
“Don’t cry, Ha Min. That’s enough.”
I whispered.
“Shut up!!”
Ha Min shoved my hand away.
Then he swung his fist at me.
Thump!
I caught it.
‘Should I just deck him once to knock some sense in?’
As I thought that and tightened my grip—
Thwack!
Ha Min was knocked to the floor.
“…Dojin?”
Gasping for breath, Madojin stood there, fist still raised, glaring at Ha Min.
Little Pink Starfish 
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