Little Pink Starfish

Lately, the mood among Sedalbaekil’s members hadn’t been good.

It was only natural—Choi Jaesung, who had been in an accident, still hadn’t regained consciousness. But if you looked at the emotional state of each individual, the situation was even more serious.

On Saemiro believed that everything that happened to Choi Jaesung was entirely his fault.

And maybe… he wasn’t wrong.

When his parents came to visit, it was On Saemiro who had asked his roommate, Choi Jaesung, to go with him.

It was On Saemiro who suggested heading to the car because there was nowhere to talk, and it was On Saemiro who argued with his parents.

And in the end—

It was On Saemiro who couldn’t bear his trauma.

He had a deep-rooted trauma involving adult men shouting and threatening him—memories stretching back to his childhood, and Han Sion knew about this.

Because he’d seen it before—when Fade had cursed at On Saemiro in the changing room on set.

And then the accident happened.

It wasn’t even a big accident.

In most cases, they would’ve stayed in the hospital a few days, collected insurance, and that would’ve been the end of it.

But Choi Jaesung had been trying to stop On Saemiro’s parents, who were acting up in the backseat, and ended up in an unstable position.

He had removed his seatbelt, raised his torso, and was facing the back seat.

The biggest problem was that the airbag deployed.

An airbag is only a lifesaving device when used with a seatbelt.

If an airbag goes off without a seatbelt, it usually causes even greater injury.

Thanks to the airbag, his head and lower back were protected… but—

His neck was injured.

Since then, On Saemiro had spent every day reliving that moment in regret.

Watching him, Goo Taehwan and Lee Ieon were at a loss.

They couldn’t comfort On Saemiro.

Because comforting him would be the same as telling him to let go of the burden of Choi Jaesung’s injury.

But they couldn’t ignore him either.

On Saemiro looked truly tormented.

In the end, Goo Taehwan and Lee Ieon ended up joining in his emotional suffering, tormenting themselves.

What if they’d been at the dorm that day—would anything have changed?

It’s not like there was a critical schedule. They had just gone out to meet friends (or in Goo Taehwan’s case, family).

So didn’t they also bear some blame?

But what shook Sedalbaekil’s members the most wasn’t each other—it was Han Sion.

Sedalbaekil had been through a lot.

Han Sion always seemed to take things in stride, but the truth was the members were terrified of Choi Taeho’s threats.

What kept them steady despite it all was Han Sion always being their anchor.

No matter how hard things got, if Han Sion was with them, they believed they could get through it.

It was a kind of unconditional trust that was almost strange, even to themselves.

To Sedalbaekil—who didn’t have a company as their cushion—Han Sion had been their softest, most reliable place to land.

But now, that wasn’t there.

Han Sion wasn’t to blame for this incident.

He’d been in the U.S., and even if the same thing happened a hundred times, there was nothing he could have done.

Even so, he was broken.

The employees at SBI Entertainment didn’t seem to think so.

They were saying Han Sion had already accepted Choi Jaesung was out, was writing songs, and preparing other external activities.

Rumors floated that he was a sociopath, venting his stress on Fade, the person he had a bad history with.

To the employees, who saw Han Sion not as a person but as a figure—maybe that made sense.

If Sedalbaekil hadn’t built up a long history with him since Coming Up Next, they might have thought the same.

But they knew Han Sion the person. They had Han Sion the friend. They knew the real Han Sion.

That he was preparing something, no doubt.

But not because he had given up on Choi Jaesung.

It was because he couldn’t bring himself to give up.

And yet—

“I’m scared…”

That’s what frightened Sedalbaekil’s members.

Han Sion’s actions felt like a kind of farewell.

Maybe he couldn’t even imagine Sedalbaekil without Choi Jaesung—and was thinking about disbanding the team.

But no one could ask him about it.

Because asking would sound like suggesting, “Let’s keep Sedalbaekil going even without Choi Jaesung.”

Sedalbaekil had gone through and overcome countless things, but always as a group.

As individuals, they were still just boys who had barely turned twenty.

And in that moment, when those boys were paralyzed by fear—

Choi Jaesung woke up.

---

“…Hyung…”

He spoke.

Thank god.

At the very least, Choi Jaesung the person wouldn’t suffer socially just because he couldn’t talk.

That thought came to mind.

But at the same time, a question surfaced.

Does Choi Jaesung the singer still exist?

Because as soon as he spoke, he grimaced in pain and shut his mouth again.

Maybe I was the only one thinking that. The other Sedalbaekil members rushed over to him instantly.

Especially On Saemiro, who grabbed Jaesung’s hand and sobbed uncontrollably.

As that moment of relief passed, Jaesung began glancing around.

“Your parents just stepped out for a bit.”

“Ah.”

“We already contacted them. They’ll be back soon.”

Jaesung nodded.

It wasn’t a lie.

Since the accident, his parents had been coming to the hospital often, and they’d greeted us a few times.

They were sad, worried, and prayed.

But…

It wasn’t normal.

Their prayers felt like they were meant to soothe their own guilt—not truly for Jaesung.

Not “What if he doesn’t wake up?” but “If he doesn’t wake up, what do we do with this guilt?”

I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

Goo Taehwan also had a sharp look in his eyes when watching Jaesung’s parents.

But for now, it was time to be happy.

Because Jaesung seemed to be in pain when speaking, we handed him a phone and began to communicate that way.

-How much time has passed?

“One year.”

Jaesung’s eyes widened in shock, but then he blurted something ridiculous.

-So I’m not a minor anymore?

When we started Coming Up Next, Jaesung was in his senior year of high school, but he was an early-year baby.

So in reality, he was 18.

Meaning he had just turned 19 this year.

A normal person would already be in college, drinking, enjoying all the things adults do…

But Jaesung is famous.

Naturally, he was under constant scrutiny, and he always found that unfair.

Ah, filming was a pain too.

Because Sedalbaekil was so famous, the broadcast stations had strict rules on nighttime shoots.

He must’ve held onto that grudge pretty hard—since the first thing he said after waking up was that.

So I told him the truth.

“It’s a lie. It’s only been five days.”

Jaesung, face full of betrayal, carefully formed a syllable with his dry hands.

-ㅗ

A quiet laugh rippled through the room.

We kept talking for a while after that, until only On Saemiro and Choi Jaesung were left in the hospital room.

They seemed to have a lot to say.

But as soon as I left the room, my expression darkened.

Something feels off.

There are signs. And they’re not good.

But I’m not a doctor. I could be wrong.

I have to believe I’m wrong.

---

We’ll need to observe further, but the prognosis is looking good.

He was at high risk of losing his ability to speak permanently, but it seems we’ve avoided that.

For the time being, he must refrain from any activity that puts pressure on the vocal cords.

He shouldn’t swallow large chunks of food, can’t drink carbonated beverages, and even with water—please help him sip gently through a straw.

It’ll take time, but there’s a chance he could return to his pre-injury state.

Well… technically there’s damage to the cricothyroid, but this isn’t like vocal nodules.

Nodules are cysts in the end, but in this patient’s case, it’s a full fracture-related soft palate injury.

Just like there’s no surgery to “stick” broken bones back together instantly—

What? Oh, no, that’s impossible.

When humans speak, the vocal cords vibrate up to 1,000 times per second.

Even more during singing.

And it’s not like only one vocal organ is being used in that process.

We’ll have a clearer picture after six months.

It’s hard to say anything definite right now.

Still, it’s not hopeless—and after 3 to 4 months, it shouldn’t hinder daily life too badly.

But at least a year of observation is needed for a full evaluation.

---

The embargo lifted, and the article went out.

In the meantime, the Sedalbaekil members—excluding Jaesung—gathered and drank.

Probably half out of joy, half out of sorrow.

The joy came from knowing Choi Jaesung, the person, was okay.

We didn’t fully understand the doctor’s explanation, but the bottom line was simple:

If someone breaks their leg, they can’t use it until it heals.

But once it heals, they can use it again.

The sadness came from knowing Choi Jaesung, the singer, was in danger.

Even if the bone heals, there’s no guarantee he’ll run like he used to.

Singing causes heavy strain on the vocal cords—even healthy people develop nodules.

In that uncertain atmosphere, we talked for the first time about what comes next.

“Should we do some solo activities? I don’t want to promote as a group, but I also don’t want us to be forgotten. If we don’t bring in revenue, the company’s in the red, right?”

“Sion, why don’t you try producing for once? People always ask why you don’t take on outside work.”

“He’ll be fine. Jaesung’s a lucky guy.”

“Oh, right. How was it in the U.S.?”

And so, without pause, we chatted about this and that.

Not because we truly looked forward to the future—but because looking ahead was easier than looking at the present.

I joined in, tossing out a few things I normally wouldn’t say—even jokes.

And for the first time in a while, I got drunk.

Normally, even when drunk, I build walls.

But this time, I let the walls fall.

“When I first heard Ieon hyung’s voice, I thought he was all looks.”

“All looks? Why?”

“I mean, a guy who looks like a protagonist should have a protagonist’s voice, right?”

“You really judged me with a line that soft?”

“…”

“Be honest. What did you really think?”

“…Trash?”

“You asshole!”

“What about me? What about me?”

“Anxious loser.”

“And me?”

“‘I’ll do my best’?”

“You only said that because you like me!”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

And then, everyone’s drunken habits kicked in.

Ieon, as always, cleaned with obsessive energy. On Saemiro, as always, cried. Goo Taehwan, as always, observed people.

Ieon eventually got tired and fell asleep. Saemiro cried himself to sleep too.

Even then, Goo Taehwan kept staring at me.

“What? Why?”

“Where are you going?”

“Going to grab a hangover drink.”

“That’s not what I meant…”

“I’m going to the convenience store.”

“Put on a cap.”

“No need.”

I stood up.

Goo Taehwan, who had seemed so alert, had dozed off in his seat.

I smiled faintly and slipped out of the dorm.

Then I left the alley, crossed the road, passed the avenue, and arrived at the intersection.

VROOOOOOM!

It’s still just an ordinary intersection.

But if I close my eyes and open them again…

It’ll become a place of the extraordinary.