Left Out Friend

31

The room was vast, illuminated by LED lights that lined the corners of the walls, casting a soft, aesthetic glow. The backdrop was designed with an artistic touch, complementing the warm yet stylish atmosphere. On the right side, seven chairs were neatly arranged, occupied by the seven members, each dressed in outfits that exuded an effortless, aesthetic charm. Opposite them sat the interviewer, clad in a formal yet fashionably refined suit.

In front of them, cameras rolled, staff bustled, and the air buzzed with the energy of a live broadcast. The interview was lighthearted, filled with playful banter and entertaining games. There was no pressure, no stiff formalities—this wasn’t an awards show or a prestigious event like the Met Gala. The focus was on their latest album, and the members enjoyed themselves, laughing and answering questions with ease.

All except Sunoo.

He played along, of course—flashing smiles when the cameras turned his way, laughing at the right moments—but the act was exhausting. His expressions flickered between forced amusement and an unshakable emptiness, as if he was trapped in an endless cycle of pretense. He hated this. The artificiality of it all. The knowledge that hundreds of thousands of people were watching, believing the illusion.

His mood had been off since last night. He still couldn’t pinpoint what exactly bothered him the most—was it the realization of his own helplessness? The foolish hope he had placed in Jay? His own stupidity for expecting something different? He had spent all night reflecting, only to conclude that he had no one left to turn to.

Sunoo had given in. He had stopped fighting, stopped resisting. What was the point? He had foolishly thought Jay might be his way out—that maybe, just maybe, Jay was different. That he could put an end to this, tell them to stop. But when Sunoo finally gathered the courage to plead for help, Jay refused. He didn’t argue. He didn’t explain. He simply stood there, silent, waiting for Sunoo to exhaust himself. And when Sunoo finally calmed down—when the last bit of fight drained out of him—Jay just left, closing the door behind him as if nothing had happened. Sunoo was left alone, staring at the empty space where his last hope had stood. What was stopping Jay? Was it really that hard to give reasons? To put an end to this nightmare?

Now, he had no one. No more hope. He was just unlucky, born in the wrong time, the wrong place, surrounded by the wrong people. If he could turn back time, he would. Back to when he was happy, back to when life was simple and safe. But that life was gone. Now, all he had was this—this hell that had become his reality.

***

Among the viewers, one person watched him with unsettling intensity—Eunwoo. He observed every small shift in Sunoo’s expression, his gaze sharp, unreadable. And today, he had made up his mind. He wasn’t going to let this go.

After the interview, no one brought up what had happened the night before. They carried on as if nothing had transpired, their laughter and conversation filling the air on their way back to their building. Sunoo, however, felt the weight of his actions. His occasional blank stares and lack of enthusiasm during the live show had already sparked reactions. By now, social media was probably flooded with comments calling him Sassy Queen again. He regretted it. Regretted that even here, he couldn’t keep up the act.

As they reached the first floor, Sunoo’s eyes landed on Eunwoo, stepping out of the elevator. His body stiffened instinctively, and he turned slightly, intending to avoid him. But before he could slip away, their eyes met.

No escape.

Eunwoo walked toward them, his expression unreadable. He gave a polite nod to the group, though the members only frowned in return. Clearing his throat, he shifted his attention to Sunoo—who, instead of meeting his gaze, kept his eyes locked on the ground.