* * *

Thanks to the experienced DJ, the broadcast wrapped up without any major accidents, but I was tense the entire time, leaving me drenched in sweat.

Dansol dragged his exhausted body back to the dorm.

But when he arrived, no one was there.

Everyone had been discharged after receiving outpatient treatment, but most had contacted him saying they would take a few days to rest at home after the big incident.

Unlike the other members, Dansol had no place to go back to, so the silence he hadn’t felt in a while felt awkward.

The room, usually full of members, felt more pitiful now that he was alone.

Although it wasn’t due to any discord caused by the devil’s editing like before the regression, unexpected events kept causing friction with the members these days.

Dansol often found himself wanting to be alone.

The exhaustion from constantly being conscious of the cameras during the 24-hour survival show was also significant.

But now that he was actually alone, why did it feel even more lonely instead of relieving?

Dansol threw his bag carelessly and collapsed at the entrance without even taking off his shoes.

Without thinking of turning on the lights, he repeatedly turned his phone screen on and off.

Like someone possessed, he played the first episode of the survival show.

“Ugh…”

He closed his eyes tightly when his figure dancing without music appeared.

“Still… the editing is much better than before…”

Things seemed to be unfolding slightly differently from before the regression, but he wasn’t sure yet.

Seeing the editing progress in a positive direction this time made him feel somewhat relieved.

Lying on his back with a roll of toilet paper as a pillow, Dansol started watching himself on the screen as if he were in a trance.

Bzzzz

Startled by the sudden vibration, Dansol dropped his phone on his nose.

“Ow!”

The call button seemed to have been pressed by the fall, as he could hear a voice repeatedly calling his name through the phone.

-Dansol! Joo Dansol! Why isn’t he answering…?

Rubbing his sore nose at the familiar yet distant voice, Dansol finally brought the phone to his ear.

“…Mom?”

-Oh! Now I can hear you. What were you doing?

“Uh… just here.”

His response was awkward to the naturally flowing question, as if they had talked just yesterday.

It had been nine months since he last heard his mom’s voice on Christmas last winter.

-How was the shoot?

“I’m on a break right now…”

-Are you okay? I saw the news. They said many of your members were injured.

“Ah… Yes, I’m fine.”

-That’s a relief. I’ve been watching your show, but you didn’t tell me in advance. It was a surprise.

“Ah, you don’t really like variety shows…”

-The kids were watching, so I watched too. It’s fun.

Dansol’s mom always referred to his half-siblings as “the kids,” not “your siblings.”

This always made Dansol think about the distance between him and those children.

His middle school-aged half-siblings didn’t even know of his existence.

Because of this, Dansol was always cautious about calling his mom first.

When he was younger, he used to call his impulsively like the other members, but it didn’t take long to recognize the uncomfortable tone in his mom’s voice.

-The kids really like that show.

“Ah… Okay.”

He couldn’t tell whether to laugh or cry.

Before the regression, when he called his mom after the show ended, he only managed to squeeze out a single line telling him to stay healthy after a long silence.

That was a relief compared to his dad, who had changed his number completely.

The despair from hearing the monotone machine voice on the phone that barely connected him to his family started flooding back.

When he was being pushed to the brink, becoming the nation’s most hated celebrity, he desperately wanted to hear a word of comfort from his parents.

But to them, Dansol was a blemish to avoid and a trace of a failed past.

What did they think while watching their son become the number one most hated celebrity?

-Could you… do me a favor?

“What kind of favor…?”

-Um… Could you get me some autographs? Yours too. For the kids…

Silent tears filled Dansol’s eyes.

He couldn’t tell if he was happy or sad.

He cleared his throat to avoid crying out loud. But the more he did, the faster the tears came.

“…I’m not really close to a lot of people. Sorry.”

-Dansol…

Click.

Feeling that his voice was about to break embarrassingly, Dansol just said his piece and hung up.

It was a first for him.

Little Dansol, who had always craved his mother’s affection, used to hold the receiver long after he had hung up.

“Really… the worst.”

He regretted hanging up the phone on his own, only to regret it immediately.

He had just reconciled with his members, and now it felt like another obstacle had appeared.

What’s the big deal about an autograph?

‘I should have just said I’d do it.’

Handling the first call from his mom in almost a year like that.

‘If I were him, I’d want to ignore me too.’

Bzzzz.

Then it happened. The phone rang again.

Thinking it must be his mom, Dansol answered without looking at the screen.

“…Sorry for hanging up earlier. The members suddenly came in, so… I’m not really close with them, but I have gotten close to some. I’ll get a few autographs and send them to you.”

-…Autographs? Is this some kind of multi-level marketing?

“Senior!”

Startled by the familiar deep voice, Dansol sat up.

He didn’t even remember when he saved the number, but the screen clearly displayed ‘Jung Daesoo,’ not even ‘Jung Daesoo Senior.’

“How… did you get my number…?”

―That time, when you were drunk at Han Jisoo ‘s house. Don’t you remember?

“Uh… yes… I do.”

―I guess you don’t. Anyway, what do you mean by signing? You’re not signing some strange contract, are you?

Since signing a slave contract with the agency, he’d long been used to signing strange contracts.

Dansol rambled on, trying to explain to Daesoo, who was clearly misunderstanding.

“Uh… My mom asked me to get signatures from the people I work with on the program. But when I said no and hung up, I thought he was calling back. I’m sorry.”

―Really…? So that’s what you meant by becoming close with people. By any chance…

“By any chance…?”

―…am I included in that?

“Excuse me?”

―…the people you’ve gotten close to.

“Well…”

Daesoo’s sudden question made Dansol ponder the definition of closeness.

He was closer to Daesoo than to Doohyun or Minseong, but he wasn’t as comfortable with him as he was with Taeoh, Minhyuk, or Jisoo .

“By any chance… would you give me your signature?!”

―Sure.

“Then I think we’re close.”

―Great. Can we meet up sometime? You know, as close friends.

---

Jisoo and Taeoh found themselves in an awkward standoff over orange juice. Taeoh broke the silence first.

“Uh… hyung. Don’t just stare at me, say something.”

“Taeoh.”

Taeoh flinched at the serious tone and hunched his shoulders. Was he about to confess something?

“Yes?!”

“You need to eliminate me.”

“What… What do you mean, hyung?”

“Just what I said. You need to eliminate me. You have eight votes.”

“Uh… but that’s not right!”

Taeoh shook his head vehemently.

Did Jisoo have an overseas schedule?

He understood wanting to withdraw naturally, but not like this.

In fact, Jisoo and Dansol were the most important and popular participants in the program.

If he eliminated Jisoo , how was he supposed to handle the aftermath?

“I’ll give you money.”

“Hyung! I make money too, and a lot of it!”

It was disheartening how little leverage Taeoh had in this situation.

Seeing Jisoo rest his elbows on the table and clutch his head in frustration, Taeoh asked.

“Why, though? I thought you were enjoying this program.”

“…You don’t need to know the reason!”

“I need to know the reason to decide whether to help or not. Do you have to go abroad for filming? Did you get offered a big project? Hollywood maybe?”

“Ha… it’s not like that.”

“Then why do you want to quit a program you’re doing well in? Just between us, I’m voting for Minseong hyung this time. Given how he’s been acting lately, the fans will understand.”

“Why is it okay for Ha Minseong but not for me!”

“Why…! What’s your reason?! I’m leaving! No matter what reason you give, I won’t help.”

As their Mobius strip-like argument continued, Jisoo grabbed Taeoh, who was about to leave after finishing his juice.

“I’m an Alpha.”

Drip.

Taeoh spat out the juice he hadn’t swallowed yet.

“What the hell, gross! Did I spill it?”

“Hyung…! Is the spilled juice the issue here?! An Omega becoming an Alpha?! How… how did that happen? Are you sick? How can your trait change… I’ve never heard of that.”

“What nonsense…! It’s not a change. I was always an Alpha. I was an Alpha before, and I am now. Got it?”

“…What? So… you lied?”

“I had my reasons. No… I lied. Yes, that’s why I want to leave.”

“But…! This isn’t just about quitting the program.”

“I’m retiring. So please help me.”

* * *