Little Pink Starfish

At midnight yesterday, Laurea’s debut song “Aphorism” was released along with its music video.

We’d planned to gather and watch it the moment it dropped, but the instant we got back to the dorm, everyone half-washed up and collapsed into sleep.

While we were waiting in the living room, I must’ve closed my eyes for just a moment, but when I opened them again, the sun was blazing through the windows and the other members were sprawled around the couch.

“…You’re awake.”

Well, everyone except one.

“Ah… Yes. Good morning, Dojin.”

I sat up as I spoke. My entire body screamed in protest. Han Iro was fast asleep, using my thigh as a pillow.

“You didn’t sleep, Dojin?”

“I have no need for sleep.”

Must be because he’s an angel.

Madojin sat on the floor of the living room, staring at me without a hint of fatigue.

“Did you watch the MV?”

“No. Since we planned to watch it together, I waited.”

He’d just stayed there like that until morning?

“Sorry. You must’ve been bored alone.”

“It’s fine. I do this every day.”

He really was completely freed from the need for sleep.

“…Since I share a room with Heejae, I just pretend to sleep.”

“That must be tough…”

Pretending to sleep every single night.

I wondered what Madojin thought about during those long hours.

“It’s not hard at all. I listen to audio lectures on my phone. Time passes quickly. Sometimes I go out for fieldwork to train as an angel.”

A full-time live-in tutor, huh?

In a way, Mika was the real demon here.

Anyway…

I stretched and glanced around.

…I should wake them up, right?

I’d been sitting at one end of the sofa, and Han Iro had collapsed beside me, using me as a pillow.

Min Heejae was curled up, hugging the sofa bed like a body pillow.

Jeong Noeul was snoring with the carpet draped over him, maybe because the floor had gotten cold in his sleep.

What a scene…

I let out a breathless laugh.

<You’re awake, I see.>

Just then, the door swung open and the Star appeared, hair a complete mess.

<Hurry over and help tie my hair. What’s with this frizz? Looks like a pile of rags.>

“…Must be static.”

Even Constellations had no countermeasures for static electricity. The thought of brushing and tying that hair made me feel like a servant.

Well, can’t be helped…

It would look far weirder if that guy tried to manage his hair himself.

“Okay, everyone!”

I shook Han Iro awake and called out.

“The sun’s up! Time to get up!”

At my voice, the others began to stir, groaning.

“Ugh―!”

Han Iro bolted upright like he just remembered something he’d forgotten.

“…W-what time is it?”

He asked, eyes wide.

“6:32.”

I checked the digital clock on the wall.

“We all passed out, huh…”

Min Heejae muttered, brushing his hair back.

“Why am I under a carpet?”

As if to make the point moot, Jeong Noeul pulled the carpet up to his chin.

“We look like a mess.”

Han Iro laughed, rubbing my shoulder.

“Anyway, quick wash-up…”

Min Heejae reviewed the day’s schedule.

“We’ve gotta leave by eight. Reality show shoot today. Let’s monitor the MV over breakfast.”

“Yeep―!!”

We all answered in unison.

---

<…Starting now.>

The Star had his hand on the mouse as he spoke.

“My heart’s pounding like crazy.”

Jeong Noeul muttered, wiping energy drink off the corner of his mouth.

“That’s because you’re drinking that stuff first thing in the morning.”

Han Iro scolded him, holding a green juice himself.

“…I’m ready.”

Madojin, arms crossed and hands trembling, spoke with a deadpan expression.

“Manager-nim, you’ve been working so hard since early morning.”

Min Heejae smirked at the Star.

And—

<Are you sure we should start this? Why are you all so nervous?>

I gave a wry smile at the Star’s voice in my head.

“Please, start it, Manager-nim.”

The Star nodded and clicked the plain, understated title.

[Laurea 라우레아 ‘Aphorism’ MV]

Aphorism—

A short statement that expresses truth.

It’s often translated as a maxim, saying, or proverb.

We chose the word “Aphorism” as the title because it reflects truths achieved by people. Aphorisms are not divine revelations, but truths reached through human contemplation. So it felt like the perfect word for a world where Constellations have ceased their support.

Gulp—

At the sound of Jeong Noeul swallowing, I focused on the screen.

The first shot showed a panoramic cityscape.

Creatures of the world—
We no longer seek faith
We only choose to believe in you

With those words, the Constellations…

Han Iro’s narration played with a detached tone as the scene shifted.

The camera showed me—Ryu Eunyul—curled up on a lavishly adorned chair, viewed from a distance.

I opened my eyes in a gothic-styled space, face buried in my knees.

…vanished from our sight.

Han Iro’s narration ended.

Let’s try anyway
This suffocating Day After Day
Living is such a bothersome thing

I lifted my head and began to sing as the instrumental kicked in.

Between the slow drumbeats of city pop, sharp punk guitar sounds slipped in.

“…The instrumental is amazing.”

Han Iro smiled at Min Heejae.

“Of course it is.”

Heejae accepted the compliment without modesty.

If yesterday’s god knows nothing about our today
That’s just fine
A life laid bare feels suspicious somehow

Beep Beep Beep—
We practice in hiding
We need our own way to live

The screen showed Jeong Noeul alone in a gym, holding a basketball.

Shot after shot failed.

His youthful voice gave direction to the song’s tone.

“…Honestly, I thought I’d accidentally make one and cause an NG.”

Jeong Noeul grumbled, clearly frustrated.

“Pfft!”

Han Iro couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“…Iro-hyung. Are you good at basketball?”

Noeul glared at him.

“Never tried it, so no idea.”

Han Iro grinned and patted Noeul’s back.

Interspersed with dance cuts, the MV depicted how each member lived without divine support.

Jeong Noeul played basketball without a Constellation.

Min Heejae solved problems without one.

Han Iro…

We take off our shoes

And lightly touch the scorching earth

He ran across a desert in the bridge section.

“That’s CG, right?”

It piqued my curiosity.

“…Yeah.”

Han Iro admitted with a sheepish look.

“We filmed it in a green screen room. It was hard to focus, being my first time acting in a space like that.”

The song emphasized how each of us achieved our goals without Constellation help.

But that only applied to the three of them. Madojin and I were different.

I played a boy who didn’t know how to live. That’s why, despite being in a modern building, the interior around me was styled in old gothic decor.

I watched the other members—Jeong Noeul, Min Heejae, Han Iro—through curtains.

Pull one curtain, and Noeul’s basketball practice appeared.

Another curtain—Min Heejae chasing down a case.

Another—Han Iro researching how to make flowers bloom in the desert.

Let a flower bloom
Not a miracle
Just a single flower, blooming

In the teaser, my vocals had sounded hopeful, but in the MV, they were filled with resignation.

Curled up on a fancy chair, I sang with a lifeless expression.

My gaze lifted toward the light, my voice yearning through the chorus.

“Eunyul, you’re secretly good at acting.”

Han Iro said, glancing between the screen and my face.

“Why were you so obvious about everything during CYB?”

“…How should I know?”

I scratched my neck.

Meanwhile, Madojin entered my space midway through the song.

Real angel, wearing fake angel wings—it looked jarringly out of place.

He unfolded a folding chair opposite me and began to sing.

How many more lives must I see to grow weary?
The feelings of wings
The anxious sound of footsteps
I watched again and again
Am I needed?

I stir my reflection in the water
Am I needed by you?
A question that can’t reach you now
How many more lives must I see to grow weary?

His low, whisper-like tone reached me gently.

Madojin played the role of an angel silently watching the boy—me—who didn’t know how to live.

The Constellations had stopped giving support. He could offer no help. Only observe.

I, having filmed separately, wandered the space unaware of his gaze.

The MV ended with the boy who never learned how to live finally choosing to go on living anyway.

I, who hadn’t joined the group dance at all, stepped out and danced with the others for the final chorus.

He simply lives on.

That was the boy’s answer.

It was all I could think of.

I smiled bitterly, recalling what the Star had said.

A way to restore my father’s presence—not by the Star, not even by the Savior Who Is One and All, but only by the strength of a creature like me.

In the end, it was simply… to go on living.

Clap, clap.

Probably not aimed at me in particular, but as the song ended, Madojin applauded.

“…That was really good.”

I never imagined he’d be the first to react.

“Wow! That was amazing.”

Jeong Noeul exclaimed.

“Your songwriting’s getting better and better.”

Min Heejae laughed, grabbing my shoulder.

“…Reactions are great, too.”

Han Iro scrolled through the comments with a smile.

“Thank god…”

A wave of exhaustion swept over me.

<Great work, everyone.>

The Star spoke with a soft smile.

<Even someone like me, who rarely listens to music, thought it was a really good song. Especially the lyrics.>

His tone was dull, but his expression seemed sincere.

“Ha ha…”

I laughed weakly.

It felt like we’d overcome a big hurdle.

<Now then, shall we head off to film the reality show?>

…Or not.

There was still a lot left to do.