Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Jinyoung did not really have any heroes. 

It was the stories that had made him choose his path into the world of television, the feelings that shows awoke in him, the thrill, the tears, the rush of joy or comfort after a long day. 

He had some old favourites, but there had never been a producer whose face he had stuck on his bedroom walls, someone he had wanted to emulate. It was mostly because he never found one with a story that sounded like his.

Seo Beomjun was the perfect example.

His senior’s father was the director of a major television network for several decades, he had a name. Names were a currency safer than gold, a guarantee of open doors. 

Choi Gyuri was not in the same boat, but she had turned to production after many years of working in television in other positions, and Jinyoung wanted to get straight to the point. 

He found comfort in the stories of people who had kept their head up in the depths of struggle.

Those who did bear a precious crown from their birth certificate, those who had never known the feeling of checking all the price tags at the groceries store to be sure to not waste precious fractions of money that could make the difference in a tight spot, Jinyoung simply could not relate to. 

He couldn’t see himself in them, and as a result he couldn’t even see himself reaching the same heights in life.

He hated that feeling. 

So he simply ignored them : the people he worked with who held positions above him yet weren’t that much older, the seniors who had lessons to give, those who had the money to not care about internal network affairs. They existed, they orbited the same centres, but Jinyoung felt that acknowledging their head starts would draw him to the type of self-deprecation that weighed like metal chains at his feet. 

It was for that very reason that his relationship with Jaebeom mattered.

His colleague of the same age. The one who could become what Jinyoung wanted to be, ahead of him, or with him. 

When their careers would end, would their names appear side by side ? Or would only one of them make it far enough to be worth remembering ?

Jinyoung often wondered.

They had been friendly rivals, but never stepped on each other’s turf in a way that could truly put in doubt their ability to enjoy the same success. Until now, until Jung Dongseok’s offer for the year-end award shows.

An opportunity that they had both hoped for, to cement their status in the company, to shed off the label junior that followed them everywhere.

If Jinyoung was pushed by the executives at the network, with a recommendation from high up, how would his friend feel ? 

After earning each other’s respect through relentless hard work, achievements won through blood and sweat rather than a wealth of names, would Jaebeom feel betrayed by Jinyoung cutting in line ?

“Jinyoung, we’re ready to shoot."

Jinyoung looked up from the screen of his phone, that displayed his text conversations with his fellow producer.

“I’m coming." he told Mark, shutting off the device completely

It was their last day of shooting the Yongseung and Hwi story. 

The cameras had been set up in the living room, Bambam and Yongseung were sitting on the floor, both staring at the steam coming out of the tea cups on the table between them, waiting for action to be called.

Hwi was at school and would only join later, for the last interview. 

“Action." Jinyoung finally called, after taking a moment to listen to the measured breaths of the team synchronising 

Silence fell, Bambam’s screen-breaking smile shone through the monitor.

“I just need to say before we go any further" Bambam said softly, looking at Yongseung straight in the eyes “You are a very brave man."

Yongseung’s cheeks flamed up and his head tilted towards the ground, as it always did when he was being complimented.

“I mean it." Bambam insisted. “I have a hard time enough already talking about grief in my own head, I can’t begin to imagine what it must be like to have these conversations with Hwi."

Yongseung’s head remained lowered for a few seconds. From where he was leaning on the couch with one knee, holding the screen monitor for Eunji, Jinyoung saw him nervously tug at the fabric of his trousers.

Jinyoung nudged his head writer softly. Eunji nodded. They had agreed that the decision to cut the shoot short in case something went wrong with that scene would be simultaneously called by the two of them.

Jinyoung stared at Bambam, hoping that even though he couldn’t meet his eyes, his friend would telepathically perceive his encouragements. Jinyoung knew he could pull it off, because, if anyone could, it was Bambam.

“How did you approach it ?" his show-runner asked. “How does one learn to talk about these things ?"

Yongseung lifted his head slowly, Jinyoung saw his sad smile on the monitor.

“I don’t think I’m doing a good job at it."

Bambam didn’t frown or retort, he just let his head lean to the side, letting Yongseung elaborate in his own time. 

“I feel like I can only teach him sadness."

Eunji grabbed Jinyoung’s hand, the one that wasn’t holding the monitor. Jinyoung squeezed it tighter.

“There are so many happy memories of his mother I would like to share with him…" the father sighed. “But I feel like I’d only give him regrets to not have lived those moments. It becomes easier to just let it be a topic in the air, with a simple conclusion… like we all have different lives, and it’s not because some people deserve more pain that they struggle more, it’s all very arbitrary. But how is that enough ?"

Jinyoung felt his heart tighten with his grip on Eunji’s hand.

“And it pains you to teach him that ?"

Yongseung shook his head and put his hands on his temples.

“What would you want him to learn then ?" Bambam asked softly, putting a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “It’s probably not too late."

Yongseung looked back at Bambam and the look on his face made Jinyoung’s breath hitch. The man had tears in his eyes, and the tension in his facial muscles betrayed how hard he was trying to keep them in. 

“But how ?" he wailed. “What else can I teach him that the world won’t contradict ? How do I talk to him about these things openly without letting him believe that he is defined by the tragedy of his life ?"

Bambam didn’t appear to take a deep breath, but Jinyoung saw his posture relax slowly, as he turned to face Yongseung better. His friend’s features on the screen looked soft, without a shadow to cast any coldness in his gaze.

“Which one is more true then ?" he said with a warm smile. “That death is arbitrary or that it’s a tragedy ?"

Yongseung frowned in confusion, but at least the change in emotion prevented his tears from falling.

“Can’t it be both ?"

Bambam shrugged.

“You said you tried to teach him that it was arbitrary so he wouldn’t feel marked by tragedy. But if you really look at it, it’s just different ways to see the world." 

Bambam patted Yongseung’s back for comfort, before proceeding.

“If you look at it a certain way, death is just a fact of life. It’s part of a natural cycle, that neither us nor the bugs and birds and others that surround us can escape. It’s a cold, factual thing. Tragedy is a human notion. It’s because we put emotion into it that it hurts. You could argue that some flowers die at the end of their first spring, but we don’t grieve them."

Yongseung shook his head again.

“It’s not the same."

“Why ?"

“Because we don’t care about flowers like we love people."

Bambam’s smile widened.

“So you’re saying, grieving your wife is a way to honour the love you had for her ?"

Yongseung froze for a second.

Jinyoung was just as still. He felt like the bones of his chest would crack any second now. 

“You repay the love you shared with someone, the memories you cherished together, by carrying them in your heart until your own life ends and you pass the baton to those who will grieve you ?"

Yongseung’s head fell, his chin down to his collarbones. It wasn’t enough to hide the small tear that Jinyoung saw crashing on his knee.

“If your grief is proportional to the love you had for her, why would you deprive your son from sharing that love for his mother ?"

The tone of Bambam’s voice was strangely soothing for such a loaded question.

Jinyoung felt Eunji’s gaze burning against his cheek, he turned around to face her. Her eyes looked unsteady, fearful. Jinyoung smiled at her.

“It’s going okay for now." he mouthed silently 

“Because it hurts too much." Yongseung’s weak, barely spoken answer yanked their attention back to the monitor. “I don’t want him to hurt like that."

“He will grow up." Bambam countered, still managing to keep his tone soft beyond what Jinyoung had hoped. “He’ll be an adult one day, looking for answers, navigating a complicated world on his own. What if he carries the regret of not having stories of his mother to honour her by, more heavily than the regret of not being part of her memories ?"

Yongseung looked up, his eyes red with tears. He did not show any reaction, as if fully welcoming the hit of Bambam’s next sentence.

“What if teaching him to love the memory of his mother was your antidote to tragedy ? You’ve been bearing the pain of her loss alone for years now, and he might only get to know your sadness and never the happiness of the time you shared with her. You’re giving him no opportunity to love her."

“He will still be sad to not have known her."

“Can you really prevent that by taking the memories away from him ? At least if you’re together in this, you can teach him that sadness is not something to be feared. Especially when it’s a testament to how much someone was loved in their life."

Yongseung nodded slowly, his gaze getting lost in the void between him and Bambam.

“What was your wife’s name ?" Bambam asked, smiling brightly

Yongseung’s features dropped. He eyed Bambam’s face cautiously, seemingly thrown off by the cheerful tone.

“Ahyeon." he said, and his cheeks got painted with a soft pink, his eyes crinkling. “Go Ahyeon."

Bambam jumped in excitement.

“How did you two meet ?"

Yongseung hid his smile and his flaming cheeks behind his hands.

“We were in the same class in high school." he said, his words getting mushed together by the shyness. “Her parents owned a bakery, so she came to class every morning with a bag of pastries for those who didn’t get to eat breakfast."

“Did you get any ?"

Yonseung, now redder than a cranberry salad, nodded.

“She always left one on my desk." he admitted

Bambam cooed loudly. That made Yongseung burst in laughter.

Jinyoung felt on the verge of tears at the smile on the screen, that almost reached his ears.

“How did you know you loved her ?"

Yongseung composed himself. He looked ahead of him, still smiling, but not gazing at anything in particular.

“In school, I had a really hard time talking in front of people. I always got too nervous to even say one word. In our senior year, she would come to find me when I was practicing and she told me things like you need to lift your chin up and look them in the eyes, and she would make me laugh to ease my nerves. She always said I shouldn’t give up on myself just because the teachers yelled at me."

“The teachers weren’t kind to you ?"

“No, I would get a lot of things wrong and my family didn’t have a lot of money for evening classes, so everyone thought I wouldn’t even get into college. But Ahyeon didn’t like to see people being put down. She had kind words for everyone."

“She sounds amazing."

Yongseung beamed.

“She was. She was my shining star. She saw someone in me I never could, and just for that she made me want to rise above all my weaknesses. I miss her a lot."

Bambam gave him a satisfied nod.

“So she was kind. And what else ?"

“She was funny. You wouldn’t have thought she was such a good student with all the jokes she played. She had so much energy that she never wanted to go to sleep. Even when her memory first started to fade, she tried to make me laugh however she could."

The tender warmth in his eyes could have been enough to break Jinyoung’s heart.

“She was my precious angel."

Jinyoung looked at the part of the screen that showed Bambam’s face and caught the second when his friend’s gaze shifted to something just as soft, but more frank, more naked. He held his breath.

“Did you tell Hwi all this ?"

Silence.

Yongseung stilled, before his features contorted painfully.

“No." he admitted, dropping his head once more

“Don’t you want him to know he had such a kind and wonderful mother ?"

Yongseung did not answer. He was hiding his face again, Jinyoung could only read the heavy curve of his shoulders.

“And what about Ahyeon ? Should the memory of her time on Earth disappear because her name is too painful to speak out loud ?"

Jinyoung turned to Eunji. The tremor in Yongseung’s body seemed like a signal they might need to prepare for an interruption.

“Everyone grieves in their own time. There is your time and there is Hwi's. You looked so happy just now talking about Ahyeon, I’m sure that Hwi would love to see the bright smile that she inspires in you. Don’t you think so too ?"

And right then and there, Yongseung let his head fall on Bambam’s shoulders and burst into tears.

Eunji looked at Jinyoung with wide eyes. He nodded and held his hand towards Hyejong and her camera operators, who had turned towards him with perplexed looks.

“Cut." Jinyoung commanded. “Stand by, give them some room, we’ll keep going when he’s comfortable."

“You don’t want shots of this ?" Hyejong questioned. “This works for your show's style."

“He’s crying. This is probably tough for him, let’s give him some space without a camera on his face. This won’t air anyway."

Jinyoung tapped Eunji’s shoulder and gestured with his head to get out of the living room. His head writer did not waste one second and jumped to her feet to follow him in the kitchen.

Leaning back on the fridge, Jinyoung pretended to be absorbed in the monitor, that now displayed an idle screen made of various lines and pre-settings text.

“Are we sure it was a good idea ?" Eunji said, keeping her tone low as she kept throwing glances through the door behind her. “If the show gets a green light, we should factor in that three days to shoot with barely any preparation is madness."

“Don’t say that next to Bam, he’s gonna blame himself." Jinyoung warned. “We knew this was rushed, I don’t want him to think we let him do this thoughtlessly."

Eunji frowned.

“You realise that you submitted your sister, right ?"

Jinyoung sighed, letting the monitor down to look at his head writer in the eyes.

“Yeah, and I started regretting it before I even did it."

Eunji took a step further, giving up on keeping an eye on what was going on in the living room, and let her back rest against the wall adjacent to the fridge.

“He can do it." Jinyoung concluded, to himself. “We just need to make it easier for him."

Eunji snorted and threw him an amused glanced from the corner of her eyes.

“You say that every time he’s not in the room."

Jinyoung rolled his eyes.

“He knows."

“Does he ? Did you tell him about him about the Type B meetings ?"

Jinyoung smiled to himself.

“I don’t think he needs to be told that. He knows about the other things I do for him."

“Sometimes I wish I could see you work with other people to see if you’re just that devoted by nature or if it’s special treatment."

Jinyoung rose his eyebrows.

“Should I hire another head writer, then ?" he teased

Eunji’s features remained perfectly impassible.

“If you want to."

Jinyoung titled his head, sliding slightly along the fridge to get a better look at her face.

“Really ? No kicking, no arguments ?"

She shrugged.

“You’re the producer. It’s always gonna be your decision."

“You wouldn’t mind at all ?"

She bit her lip. Her gaze fell to her feet for a second, something rather unusual for her. 

They had known each other for several years at this point. She had been the penultimate addition to their team, before Yugyeom had even interned. She had grown out of her initial shyness quite fast, Jinyoung remembered. 

His first memory of her was when she had come for her job interview, wearing a long black wig. Jinyoung had only realised the hair was fake when him and Mark had crossed paths with her in the corridor, as she walked out of the bathroom with a turquoise blue pixie cut instead.

She had paled in an instant, bowing clumsily with a tight grimace. Her eyes, restless, betrayed quite the obvious concern that had shot through Jinyoung’s heart like a bullet.

“You should have waited until you got in the elevator." Mark had teased, setting the tone for the basic dynamic of their future friendship

Without thinking, however, Jinyoung had only been able to blurt out a :

“I think the blue looks better."

He had not been given any time to kick himself for speaking so casually, because the immediate change in her demeanour had dissolved the self-blaming before it could bloom into thoughts : her bright smile, how her face had turned upwards and her shoulders had relaxed… It only took a few weeks after being hired for her to get comfortable trading verbal jousts with Mark all day long, and to start giving Jinyoung her signature are you sure about what you’re doing stare.

He could not imagine in what world he could have missed her discontentment at her place in the team… had he been so clueless to not even—

“I don’t know how to say it." she mumbled, cutting Jinyoung’s thread of thoughts short. “Actually, I don’t know how to say anything about me."

Caught off balance by the sudden admission, Jinyoung let out a nervous laugh.

“But you’re our main writer." he argued. “No one knows how to put things into words better than you."

She shook her head, still not looking up.

“That’s not true." she sulked

Jinyoung scrunched his nose in disbelief. He extended his arm out to shake Eunji’s shoulder.

“Hey, don’t start saying nonsense. You know we’d go nowhere without you."

“For work maybe." she countered. “To call out bullshit in other people, maybe. But the rest…"

Ah. Jinyoung got it, even before her sentence trailed off and she threw her arm out in frustration at not finding the words.

She meant it about herself. 

She was the type of person to take how are you as an extension of hello rather than a show of interest in her wellbeing, and how’s it going as a strictly-business question. When they gathered around coffee in the morning or when they spoke on the phone, she never answered questions about what she had done with her weekend or evenings with more than a few short sentences. The most detailed accountings of her life outside of the network building always came from Mark’s exposés of whatever endless-teasing-worthy thing she had done during one of their outings. Like the time she had been chased by a bee when they went hiking.

Truly, the more he though about it, Jinyoung realised he knew little beyond factual information about her. He knew how good she was at her job, what her age was, some of her feelings about current world events but the deep contents of her heart ? He had never been privy too.

“You don’t need complicated sentences." he promised. “Just tell me yes or no, do you want to stay in our team ?"

“Of course I do !" she sounded like someone who had been looking all over the place for something they could swear they had seen a minute ago. “But if you decided against it, there is no way I could stop you."

“Okay, in that case, yes or no : would you be upset if I dismissed you from the team ?"

She looked away. Her shoulders looked tense, her back sticking to and lifting away from the wall behind her in a regular motion. She reminded Jinyoung of a little kid.

“What’s the worst that could happen if you say yes ?" he asked, pushing himself away from the fridge to stand right in front of her

She seemed startled to find him looking down, straight into her eyes, she coughed to clear her throat.

“Erm…" she frowned. “Well… It’s not like I’d have any right to be upset, so—"

“Han Eunji. When you signed your contract, there was no clause about what emotions you were allowed to feel and not, I know that ‘cause I also signed it. Answer the damn question."

She bit her lips and avoided his gaze again, but this time it looked more like she was trying to suppress her laughter at Jinyoung’s whiny tone.

“Han Eunji." he insisted, on the verge of breaking character as well, already sensing the smile that softened his words. “You have told me to my face you wanted to punch me, you can manage, don’t start the but you’re my boss crap now, it doesn’t suit you." 

At that, she broke into a fit of laughter, slapping Jinyoung’s arm.

“Where did that come from ?" she cackled. “Who are you and what have you done with the serious Park Jinyoung ?"

“I am serious !" he protested but that only made her laugh harder

“No, you’re a child."

“And you haven’t answered my question."

It took only a fraction of a second for Eunji’s laughter to subside, leaving room to a contemplative gaze. 

“I don’t know." she sighed. “It would be embarrassing I guess. To lose face like that, to lose my cool."

“Even if you got dismissed unfairly ? Out of a producer’s ego trip ?"

“Yeah well… What about my chances to find more work after ? What if I get to another team and they remember me as the girl who cried for her producer to keep her ?"

“I never said crying."

Eunji looked up with confused eyes. Jinyoung’s smile stretched.

“Why does hypothetically expressing you don’t want to leave your team include crying ?"

Eunji frowned, as if she had been given a topic for dissertation. It made the warmth in Jinyoung’s heart spread to his whole chest. Apparently, the mechanics of her own mind were no exception to the vast field of questions his head writer would take seriously. 

She opened her mouth, with the roll of eyes of someone who had found the answer to a child’s tricky riddle, but closed it without voicing out loud what had just crossed her mind.

Jinyoung leaned back against the fridge.

“You think it’s a desperate thing to do." he guessed and her grimace was enough as a response. “You don’t want to threaten your reputation as the brains of the team."

“That’s slightly… humiliating ?" she added, half-whispering, with a tilt of her head and tightened facial muscles that let Jinyoung know just how unpleasant it was to say

Jinyoung held out his arm to pat her gently on the shoulder.

“In this team, we have five brains and five hearts." he assured her. “We can share. Unless you don’t trust any of your teammates to take the brains while your pour your heart out ?"

She smiled up at him. Before she could open her mouth to answer his —admittedly rhetorical— question, Mark stumbled into the kitchen.

“Hwi came back from school." he whisper-shouted, enunciating almost too quickly for Jinyoung to process. “They’re not done with that part of the shoot, we need someone to distract him."

Jinyoung turned calmly to Eunji.

“I’ll do it. You take my place. »

It just seemed so clear. Like the sky at noon in the summer. The was no cloud of doubt. 

Where did such a blessing come from ?

As soon as he darted down the stairs, he found Hwi looking at him from the floor below. With his blue raincoat with the large hood drawn over his head, big eyes and pouty face, it sent a lightning bolt straight through Jinyoung.

In a move so uncharacteristic and yet so obvious, Jinyoung opened his arm with a goofy jump.

“Who’s that I see ?" he exclaimed

Hwi burst into giggles and waddled hurriedly towards the stairs. Jinyoung was quicker to reach him, kneeling to match his height.

“How was school ?" he asked, a large smile taking over his face

“We had a surprise math test." Hwi whined, holding his arms out towards Jinyoung’s face to exhort him to pick him up from the ground

Jinyoung, though unsure of how to safely carry a young child due to notable inexperience in the area, obliged.

“They still do those ?" he marvelled, slightly exaggerated. “I had a lot of them too, but you know they’re very useful in my job."

Hwi blinked a few times.

“Really ?"

Jinyoung nodded.

“I have to take care of a lot of money and people. I have to be very good at counting. Multiplications, divisions, subtractions, percentages, all that."

Hwi’s mouth fell open for a few seconds then brightened up in a split second. He rose his small fist towards the ceiling.

“Okay, I will learn all the maths and be very good !"

Jinyoung laughed.

“There’s no pressure. There are many other things you can do without maths. You don’t have to be a producer."

Hwi pouted.

“But I want to…"

Jinyoung stilled. He rose his eyebrows. Now, he had not expected any day of his life to go down like that, with someone —much less a child— finding any worth in what he did, enough to want to sail on similar seas on their own.

“Really ?" his voice came out a little strained. “You know you’re gonna have to work very hard for that ?"

Hwi nodded eagerly.

“This is not just an elaborate scheme to convince your dad to let you watch more television, right ? You’re still young, you don’t even know if you’ll like all the law and economics classes, on top of maths, arts, business, it’s really a lot of stuff to learn, keep that in mind."

“Yes, I’ll be the best just like you, hyung."

Jinyoung would be lying if he said that he wasn’t tempted to melt in a puddle right then and there, but weeping in front of a child might break the image of a reliable adult —and apparently, admirable producer— he had built over the last few days.

“You know…" he said instead, in a breath. “If you need to keep in mind one thing, it’s not actually all the stuff you’re gonna have to study to get to where I got now. If you remember one thing, remember just how important it is to be surrounded well. To be the best you need to have the best people with you. I would not be here today without my family, without my friends, without my team. That’s what matters the most."

Really, where did his blessings come from ? Jinyoung had no idea.

Was it pure chance or was it pure fate ? 

Was it a gift granted, or just a consequence of his almost thirty years of life ?

Who did he have to direct his thanks to this time ?

It was still a few days too early for him to find the answer, and they had only completed a little over a third of what they had come to Jinhae to accomplish. So far, only the sketch of what Jinyoung would come back to Seoul with had started to appear.

It would take a little bit more.

But, for now, it was time to get back to regular scheduled programming. Getting back to business : the business of Jinyoung’s convoluted four act structure.

Act 3 out 4 — A Peace of My Mind shoot week 2, or the requisites of being a good brother.

Alright, now if Jinyoung’s storytelling wasn’t messy enough he had two things to throw out of the way before getting to his point. 

For the first one, he had to rewind the tape back a little, as he had promised before, to that Saturday when he had dragged Bambam and Jackson to have lunch with his parents.

As they were ready to leave, and his friends had been chatting animatedly with Jinyoung’s father about a recent basketball match, Jinyoung had heard his mother call him back to the kitchen. 

She had handed him a couple of plastic boxes sealed with gaffer tape. 

“Here, for dinner for all three of you." she had said, in a tone that permitted no protests

“Mom."

“It’s the very least, you’ve been making so many meals for your grandmother, let me give this back to you."

Jinyoung had felt his heart constrict so painfully in his chest, looking down at his arms full of his mother’s cooking and leftovers, that the words had spilled right out of his mouth, bursting at the seams after months and months and months…

“Mom." he blurted out. “I came back to talk to Jiwon, I’m gonna talk to her."

Looking back, he could wince at his lapidary choice of words. Both Bambam and Jackson had pointed out that he had no weight to bear in the matter, that it wasn’t true that he had moved means and fooled his team because he couldn’t communicate properly with his sister.

Saying it so plainly, I came back for Jiwon, felt like throwing a balloon full of paint against a white wall. It left a big mark but only made a quick, unremarkable noise. Perhaps it was just that simple. It wasn’t ripping out bandaids or jumping eyes closed without a net, it was just a simple throw.

His mother had smiled sweetly, bringing her hand to his hair in an affectionate gesture.

“You two have always been so good to each other. I knew she could count on you."

“She has been a good sister, I have never been anywhere as good a brother to her."

“That’s not true. You’re younger than her, you can’t blame yourself for that."

Well… Jinyoung blamed himself exactly for that.

Age did not matter, as the youngest he shouldn’t be expected to just cruise through life while his sister fought the brunt of it, and as the oldest, Jiwon shouldn’t be expected to swallow down all the pain whenever he needed her. 

And whatever weight I could take off their shoulders, I would.

Jinyoung wanted to take some of the weight off of his sister’s shoulders, just like she had done for him since they were young.

“My little Jinyoung…" his mother had sighed, patting his head softly and shrining his face with her hands. “I could always breathe a little easier to know you had each other, no matter what. I knew you’d be okay because she took care of you, even with the things you didn’t feel like you could tell us, and I knew she’d be okay as long as she had at least you to open up to. I was worried she would shut you out. I should have known my stubborn little baby would never let her down."

Jinyoung had kept the tears in but they had nearly dripped down the smile that took over his face at his mother’s words.

“Look at you… All grown up and handsome and accomplished… You worked so hard for so long… You’re doing so well… I know we couldn’t give you anything but both of you make me proud every day. Promise me, please, that you’ll always leave a little room in all your success for my precious little boy."

In the tight embrace of his mother’s arms, Jinyoung had felt his heart breaking. He had so much he wanted to beg her forgiveness for, and he knew she would never let him utter the word. 

So, in the embrace of his mother’s arms, he had sworn to himself to never allow the futile whims of the fear of falling to steal his borrowed time, to never delude himself in the comfortable lie that he had all of eternity ahead.

Now the second important element to recount before getting to his reunion with his sister was the second shoot. After Hwi and his father, it was Solhee’s turn, the college student drained of her life force by sheer, inexplicable hopelessness. 

Jinyoung had both been dreading and looking forward to that shoot.

Dreading because, as Eunji had mentioned when they had met the girl in her apartment, there was a huge risk that they were out of their depth with her.

Looking forward to it… because he wanted to see Yuna again. He wasn’t sure she would be there, as she had her classes and the shoot was centred around her friend, but he had a lot of questions for her. It had been her words when they had met to kick start his recent tour of everything he had been unsatisfied with in himself. 

Actually, there was an additional reason that he had chosen the Thursday of that week as his Day Four. 

However, he would keep that tangent for his fourth act because he had burned all the wicks of the acceptable quota of digressions. In a few words : it was the air date of Gyuri’s revamped show first episode.

Alright, back on track.

His nerves were threatening to unravel all the threads that held him together. Years of experience in his job could be felt in that exact moment, as he managed to navigate all the tasks of the shoot with a cool head and calm tone of voice, despite the screaming in his chest.

Solhee had frozen in front of the entirety of the crew, so Jinyoung had suggested to choose the space where she felt the most comfortable, to go in with Bambam and the strict minimum crew while the rest of them worked remotely, in a room where she couldn’t see nor hear them.

Solhee had chosen her bedroom. Hyejong’s team had a soft light installed to compensate for the dark exposure of that side of the building, as well as the different cameras, then had only left one operator there to check that nothing would shut off and to manage the mobile camera. Yiseol had mic-ed everyone and activated a recorder for the room, and moved her team with their headphones into the kitchen-living room aka. their makeshift video village.

That meant there were three people in total in the bedroom. Two of them, Bambam and the camera operator, had an in-ear that connected them to the remote team, in case there were instructions to communicate without interrupting Solhee.

That ? Lasted hours.

Bambam and Solhee had sat on the bed, in the dim light of the room, speaking in half-voices. They had started with more factual questions and stories about Solhee growing up, her friends, the food she liked, her memories of vacations, the shows she liked to watch… gradually, over the course of several hours, she was roped into talking and into the little bubble that Bambam had created with his light quips. 

Jinyoung had started tuning in and out after a while, as the face on the monitor morphed in his brain from Solhee to Jiwon. 

He felt outrageously foolish, like the hubris of the television producer who forgot to bow to the gods of his own human nature.

How would he be able to do all that… with his own sister ? To look at the screen and only think in technical terms ? To pay attention at the framing, at the sound levels, at the pacing ? How would he be able to put on his earphones and focus on his show ? How could he see her as a subject, not as Jiwon ?

Fucking hell… this had been a terrible idea. 

He had told himself that countless times, even before suggesting it, but now it was truly sucking his guts into a whirlpool of nausea. 

He sat up from the kitchen chair where he had spent hours now and slid off his headphones. His team did not glance at him, it had been quite normal for each of them to take breaks in turns. It was tiring to stay still for so long.

Jinyoung went to the bathroom to rub some cold water on his face. His head was cloudy, almost as if the floor he was walking on was spinning like a tumble-dryer. It was a little less cool than what they made it seem in Inception, though.

When he went back, holding himself steady on the wall, he almost got knocked over by the main door swinging open.

“Oops." Yuna gasped when she saw him behind the door. “Are you okay ? Did I hit you ?"

“I’m okay, I’m okay." Jinyoung mumbled, still a little dizzy

She really looked like she had stepped out of an Instagram page, with her oversized beige blazer suit with the sleeves rolled up and her high ponytail. How could Eunji say they were two similar people when Yuna projected an ease and confidence about herself that Jinyoung could only dream of emulating ?

“Is it going well ?" Yuna smiled, whispering and closing the door softly when she noticed how many people were in the main room 

Jinyoung nodded.

“Solhee and Bambam are in the room, you can look at the monitor if you want."

Yuna’s face had brightened up, eyes wide and mouth breaking into an open smile at the idea. Jinyoung led the way to the screen where she could see Solhee’s face, still half-hidden by the hand that pulled up the collar of her hoodie. 

“Aww." Yuna cooed discreetly, leaning towards Jinyoung to not bother the rest of the team. “She looks good on camera."

Well, Jinyoung had seen many people absolutely absorb all the pixels of the screen with how magnetic their presence was, and Solhee was far from one of them but there was something about how the soft light hit the lines of her face, and how her eyes shone with so much bright, earnest transparence that it was impossible to not follow them as they moved across the frame. 

Jinyoung handed Yuna his headphones. The girl looked at them for a second, as if trying to understand what they were for, then shook her hand frenetically to refuse.

“No, that’s her conversation to have, I won’t pry when she hasn’t told me if it was okay to do."

Jinyoung’s heart almost fell to piece right in that instant. He dropped his hand, feeling his muscles limp and his fingers shaking. 

And so his first question shot out of his mouth without a thought.

“Yuna, can I talk to you ?"

They had moved outside, sitting on the porch of the convenience store across the street. Jinyoung had told Eunji it was urgent, to prepare for shoot number three, and his head-writer had understood what he meant, nodding in agreement.

As Yuna munched on a chocolate bar, Jinyoung sipped on a shot of black coffee, trying to find the tip of the thread, to start unravelling from.

“You don’t happen to be good at finance ?" Yuna asked out of the blue, showing her phone screen that displayed the numbers on a bank account. “I just got paid for the first time for my part-time job but I don’t know how much I should save up."

Jinyoung looked at the number. He bit his tongue.

“Is this before or after taxes ?" he grimaced

“After."

“You’re not gonna be able to save up much from that, that’s barely above a month of expenses."

Yuna pouted.

“What’s the use of getting a part time job then ?" she groaned

“Well, it’s just build-up. You save a little bit every month and after several months, if you stay in the same place, the little bit grows. Even a small number is more than zero."

“Maybe I should get a second one."

“Aren’t you a student ? When will you find the time ?"

“Right."

She kept munching on her chocolate, more aggressively this time, taking her phone back.

“What do you want to do when you’re done with school ?" Jinyoung asked

Yuna sighed loudly.

“Great question. I guess what most people do is intern at a company and pray they get hired on first try."

“That’s what I did."

“Did it work ?"

“Nope."

“That’s funny, everyone says the same thing."

She finished her snack and flattened the wrapper perfectly with her fingers, to fold it in a dozen pieces and chucked it in the trash, before grabbing another chocolate from the bag she had just bought at the store.

“Yes… It’s not always an easy world." Jinyoung hummed, looking down at his shoes. “I think before I got my first show with Bambam, I used to come home and stare at the ceiling to hold myself from crying."

“See, that’s the thing I don’t understand. Why ?"

“Why I cried ?"

“No. Why does it have to be like that ? Why is all that despair a rite of passage to get to our place in life ? Why can’t it just be fun and relaxing ?"

Jinyoung frowned, at a loss.

“Erm… because life works that way, I suppose ?"

“Yeah, but why ?"

She swallowed the chocolate she was chewing and pointed a finger at Jinyoung.

“What is one good reason that explains why all of this should be so painful ? That’s what I don’t get." she said. “We willingly surrender years of life to stress and fear and self-doubt, all of that because that’s how you gain experience, that’s how you grow as an adult, as a person. But can’t we grow as people when we’re enthusiastic and hopeful and driven ?"

Well, Jinyoung had planned to be the one to ask the big questions… 

“You know" Yuna continued, sighing again “when I look at Solhee I just wish I could change the entire world. I know that’s the thing that would help her the most."

“What does she want to do in life ?"

“Well that’s thing. How can she know ? Everything and nothing. You start to like an idea and they tell you there’s no future in that, or it doesn’t pay enough to live. You get another idea, but that one they say is so boring, you’ll never get any fulfilment in life. Idea number three is exciting and always brings you new things and it usually pays well, perfect, right ? Well no, it’s gonna take up all of your time, how will you have a social life, how can you think of building a family in the future and blablabla. How can you possibly see so far in the future to know what you want to do with your life when you’re so young you don’t even know the first thing about life ?"

“I knew very young what I wanted to do."

“Yeah but that’s you. That’s because you have a vocation or something. Some people need to learn more about themselves before they can figure out who they want to be. But that’s not how the world works. The world says you need to have that shit locked and loaded by the time you become a legal adult."

A bitter smile floated over Jinyoung’s lips.

“Well." he admitted. “I haven’t felt like an adult for most of my twenties. Now I’m almost thirty and I still don’t know if I can call myself one."

“Humans live until we’re really old now. I’d get it if we played half of our lives before eighteen."

“You never know what can happen, I guess."

“Great. So we should always live with the fear that we might be running out of time ?"

Truth be told… Jinyoung felt like he did. 

“See." Yuna kept getting more animated, moving her hands in the air and tearing bites out of her snack. “This whole tomorrow is not granted thing could be a positive statement, like make decisions mindfully so you live life to the fullest and happiest, but the way I hear about it it’s always more are you sure you wanna do that ? huh what if you die tomorrow, did you do enough ? would it be a waste ?"

“Those are some big worries for someone your age to have."

“Yes, and at the same age you were coming home trying not to cry so don’t act like the big adult now."

Jinyoung laughed, Yuna joined him.

In that moment, for the first time in his life, Jinyoung wished he could go back in time. Be twenty years old again, and do everything differently. Shed all the terrors that paralysed him and tell himself he was going to be alright, something he believed only would come with the confidence of hindsight.

If he got back in time, he would want to be more like Yuna. 

“Do you see why the best thing I could do for Solhee is change the world ?" she said, her voice becoming softer as she stretched her hands out and hugged her knees close to her chest. “This one is not kind with its people. It’s not a world that rewards going through one more day in one piece, it rewards hard work, hard work, hard work. I think Solhee would have a much better environment to get better if she didn’t have so much pressure to work hard to get back on her feet, work hard to earn her rest time, work hard to be stronger…"

Jiwon crossed Jinyoung’s mind again. How she didn’t want to show herself to their neighbourhood out of fear of how they would judge her. Maybe that was the same, maybe she felt pressured about not being perfectly back on her feet already, like she hadn’t worked hard enough. Maybe she felt that her family’s worry about her was another reminder that she had not met the standard she wanted to reach yet.

“Don’t you think that Solhee should see someone ?" Jinyoung asked. “There’s only so much you can do."

“I was hoping that talking to Bambam would convince her that it was a good idea. I’ve been trying to present it to her for months. Sometimes we just need to feel a little warmth to trust that there really is a light down the tunnel."

Jinyoung lowered his head. 

He was starting to marvel at how someone so much younger than him felt like the only one with the answer to his troubles. No wonder he didn’t feel like an adult.

“I have to thank you for something." he muttered, almost to himself. “The things that you said last time about the ways you care for Solhee opened my eyes on a bunch of crap I was pushing away."

“Really ?" she beamed. “Maybe I should become one of those people that go around making speeches about life."

Jinyoung snorted at the image. 

“Well if you wanna start…" he joked. “You can start with me."

“Wait."

She reached for her bag and pulled out a pair of sunglasses and a notebook, crossing her legs in a mimic of some aloof counsellor.

“You have my attention." she signalled

“Actually,…" Jinyoung proceeded after suppressing his laughter. “It’s about my sister. Older sister. She went through a nasty breakup recently. Not nasty because it was ugly or anything, but it was with someone she spent half her life with and whom she was planning to spend the rest of her life with, probably."

“Oh god, disclaimer : my dating life is a disaster, I am not qualified to give good advice."

Jinyoung chuckled.

“It’s not about dating." he reassured her. “That’s just the context. It’s just that she was hit really hard, she changed the place where she lives, she changed her shifts at her job, she stays home and put aside most of her hobbies, she doesn’t go visit my parents and she rarely talks to me. She disappears for days on end without notice."

He sighed heavily.

“She lives here in Jinhae, while I’m all the way back in Seoul. I rarely take the time to come back here so all I could do was talk to her on the phone, but I managed to fuck that up too."

He could picture Jackson scowling at him for the self-diss, but he had to admit his faults.

“She’s the third person we interview for the show. Next week." 

Yuna pulled down her sunglasses.

“Wait Bambam is gonna interview your sister like he’s talking to Solhee right now ?" she exclaimed

Jinyoung nodded, feeling the heat of regret creeping up his cheeks.

“Eunji compared me getting her on the show to all the things you do to make Solhee’s life a little easier, and I just can’t agree with her. I’m not here for my sister every day or even when she needs me, I feel like I’m just compensating for my own shortcomings by throwing the problem out to Bambam. It’s not gonna solve anything and she might resent me even more for it."

“Damn… I didn’t think you would ask me something that serious."

“I’m sorry." Jinyoung mumbled, shaking his head. “You don’t have to say anything about it. I just needed to get it out before I lost my mind today, I’m sorry it had to be you."

“It’s okay, I agreed to it."

There was a moment of silence after that, which was filled on Jinyoung’s part by an incessant internal rambling of all the things he could potentially say to save up the situation: should he pull the plug on the third shoot ? Besides being sudden, it would be unprofessional, he had done enough mixings of personal issues with his work. He could feign being sick and not attend ? Very childish.

“I don’t think Eunji’s wrong though." Yuna said suddenly, she had taken off her sunglasses to uncover her pensive gaze. “You just can’t compare your situation to mine. Solhee’s my roommate, we share the same living space. If you lived with your sister, I’m sure you would be handling things very differently. It sounds like you’re basing your entire case for why you’re not doing good enough on the fact that you live in Seoul."

Jinyoung stilled.

Yes… He was. That was the entire problem, wasn’t it ?

“Isn’t that an arbitrary fact ?" Yuna questioned, frowning at him like he was some absurd abstract painting that people were trying to explain to her. “You just chose different paths of life, that led you to live in different cities. You can’t apply my actions to someone I live with as your standard for how you should behave."

“But I didn’t come visit her, even for a weekend."

“Okay, sure, you can do that next time. But you can’t possibly consider not abandoning everything in Seoul to move back full time with your sister as a sinful mistake. Who says she even wants you to ?"

“But it feels like I’m just saying that my job is more important than my sister, which it shouldn’t be."

“But Seoul is not just about your job, it’s your whole life."

Jinyoung froze completely, slowly turning around to look at Yuna with wide eyes.

She blinked at him, confused.

“Right ?" she added

Seoul is not just your job, it’s also your life.

But Jinyoung had equated his job and his life. Seoul was his life because it was his job. Yes, it was also its restaurants, its bars, its parks, its shops, its streets and all the things you could do there, but he spent most of his days going from the network building to his apartment. And when he was forced to put in some leaves, before his grandmother came to live with him, he would just wander off into nature : discover a library, take some sun in the park, go watch a movie at the theatre, buy some cakes at the bakery, hang out with Jackson or Youngjae… wait.

“Fuck." he breathed out

He had a life in Seoul. He did, he just had discarded all those moments because they were time-fillers for when he wasn’t working.

“I don’t understand why you think it’s any of your responsibility." Yuna resumed while Jinyoung was still grappling with what he had just realised. “Yeah of course your sister is going through something painful because breakups suck, but she’s gonna be okay. She’s gonna have a hard time for a while but her life is not in jeopardy. Human beings are not clocks, just because she’s heartbroken doesn’t mean she’s broken."

At this point, in Jinyoung’s mind, he was like a paper toy fighting to walk uphill in a gust of wind.

“I’m not saying you’re doing things perfectly or whatever, I don’t know, but the way you’re looking at it is really disproportionate. You can be there for people in their hard times when they need encouragement, when they need to feel less alone, when they need a shoulder to lean on, but that’s not what you’re saying. You’re not looking for ways to support your sister even at a distance, you’re looking at ways to atone."

She eyed him up and down.

“Do you have a martyr complex ?"

Jinyoung almost spat out.

“What ? No ! Are you saying I’m selfish ?"

“No, see you’re looking at every problem except the one your sister actually has. How about you chill the fuck out and look at this from an objective point of view ?"

“I’m older than you."

“Sorry : may you kindly chill the fuck out, sir ?"

Jinyoung might have laughed if his brain wasn’t wheeling out of control in his fourth existential crisis of the week.

He could deflect with false offence as much as he wanted, it remained limpid that Yuna was right. Anyone he had ever discussed the issue with had pointed out the same thing, including a university student that was only a few degrees away from a perfect stranger. But perhaps because she was almost a perfect stranger was why it was easier to hear things from her rather than from his parents or Jackson. Perhaps that was the appeal of talking to a professional, you couldn’t dismiss their observations as mere attempts to spare your feelings.

It would soon hit him, only a few more decisive days and he would see clear as day, but the conversation with Yuna was the first time the question creeped its way into his mind : what did he gain from proving he was a bad person ?

“So you’re saying the more I obsess over the things I do wrong, the less space I have to actually care for her." he tried to translate

“I’m saying you do seem to spend more energy on your own repentance than on what she really needs right now.."

“So it’s useless to try to be a better brother ?"

“Maybe the best thing you can do is to see her as a person beyond the fact that she’s your sister."

Jinyoung rose his eyebrows. 

Wasn’t that what he had always done ?

“People always need time." Yuna hummed. “Especially when their lives get thrown off-balance. And they’re not always gonna get it right immediately. Your sister is probably still figuring out how to move on and deal with her emotions, she’s probably as conflicted about her own mistakes as you are. But because you see each other only as your roles in your family, you’re always gonna be stuck falling short of the expectations you think you need to uphold. For one to not burden the other, for the other to shield the one from all pain. Do her a favour and look at her as a person."

Jinyoung looked at the palms of his hands.

What made the difference between a sister and a person ? And wasn’t being someone’s sister more meaningful than being someone to them ?

Perhaps it was because familial ties were descriptive titles, arbitrary ones at that. Jiwon was his sister just like Han Wontae was his boss and Doctor Yoo was his grandmother’s assigned doctor. It was a fact of chance, of circumstance. 

Another fact of circumstance was that Bambam was Jinyoung’s main —and so far only— show-runner. The fact that he was his friend, and one of the people he cherished the most, was an entirely separate discussion. Jinyoung had many producer colleagues, but only one of them was a friend, Im Jaebeom.

Jackson was simply a friend, they never interacted with each other through their professional titles. It was only that non-circumstantial factor that linked them. How could he call that ?

A bond ? Something chosen ? Had he chosen to become friends with Jackson or had that happened because of how they saw each other, because of who they were to each other ?

Jackson had no constructed rapport with Jinyoung, there was no professional code of conduct, there was no hierarchy or seniority, there was no expectation or duty to fulfil. Jackson was his friend because Jinyoung loved him, because he was bright and kind, because Jinyoung liked laughing with him, liked staying in silence or pouring his heart out in equal measure. If Jackson had been a cruel asshole, he would not have become Jinyoung’s friend probably. However, even if Jaebeom had been a piece of shit, he would still have been his colleague. Not a friend, just a coworker.

Perhaps that was what people meant when they said that parents were still parents even if their children hated them. Not because the children had a duty to love the hand that caused them most pain, but because the people who made these statements saw the circumstantial titles above the adopted ones.

Jiwon was his sister because a pure fact of chance made them born that way. But Jiwon was a friend to certain people, she was a stranger to others, she might be a rival to some. They didn’t see duties, seniority in her, they saw whether she was kind, funny, delicate. They looked at her thoughts, at the ways she approached life, rather than focusing on the shared ramifications of memories and traditions that made one family. 

Jiwon had dreams, ambitions, plans for the future, she had doubts and fascinations, she had random intrusive thoughts and obsessions, she had her own ways to unwind and little things that irked her. She had internal life, she was not simply the hollow shell of the dictionary entry that best described her connection to Jinyoung.

Perhaps, that was all it meant to be a person.

If that was the case, then Jinyoung could try to be a person to her too.

“I’m a little ashamed that I had to ask a kid for advice." Jinyoung quipped with a brief chuckle. “But thank you, for real, this really helps."

“Hey, I’m not a kid." Yuna protested, throwing him the half-empty bag of chocolates —she had eaten four. “I’m twenty-two."

“Wow, you’re practically a new born. I’m twenty-nine and a half."

“Only toddlers count half birthdays."

Jinyoung’s smile stretched so far up his cheeks. He reached out into the pocket of his jacket, which was one he only wore on shoots, it was whole-world-proof.

“I really don’t know how I could possibly repay you in kind for this…" he began

Yuna interrupted him by clapping her hands excitedly.

“I accept monthly checks to cover extra-university expenses."

“That sounds like a really inappropriate transaction."

He took out a business card from his pocket. It was blue, with the name and logo of their network on one side, and Jinyoung’s work contacts on the other.

He handed it to Yuna, who took it and scanned it curiously.

“If you or Solhee are ever stuck in this strange, unkind world." he said, like a promise

“Ooooh, connexions."

“Don’t spit on it, you have no idea what I would have given for that at your age."

She smiled at him brightly, holding the card against her chest.

“No, no I’m keeping this, don’t worry, Mister Producer."

If circumstances had been different, would Jinyoung have wanted to be an older brother ? he wondered. Right now he thought he would.

It was a little late, they had been out for a while. Yuna had had her snacks, Jinyoung food for thought, and now duty called.

“Out of curiosity." Jinyoung asked on their way back up the stairs. “What’s your major ?"

“Physics."

And so, just like that, the day had come. 

After all of Solhee’s shoot and their Sunday break to rest —that Jinyoung spent in part at home with his parents and Bambam, and in part taking his entire team to an old restaurant he liked— it was Monday again.

The first day of Jiwon’s shoot.

Jinyoung had stared at the screen of his phone for several minutes after his alarm had rung, as if the date would magically change.

He didn’t feel hungry, he was just a ball of nerves.

The past two months had led up to this day. All his scheming and overthinking.

Hey… can I call ? he texted Jackson as he went to the bathroom to get ready

When his phone buzzed with an answer, Jinyoung’s face was already covered in soap foam.

Of course you can

Jinyoung’s heart leapt in his mouth. His hands were still drenched but he pressed the call button, activating the speaker on a low volume.

“Hey…" he breathed out when he saw the line connecting

“Hello." Jackson’s raspy morning voice greeted him “Why are we whispering ?"

“Bambam’s still sleeping. I didn’t wake you up, I hope ?"

“No, I was exercising. I just didn’t talk much today yet. Which isn’t too odd for five in the morning."

Jinyoung chuckled softly.

“How’s Seoul ?" he asked, although they had seen each other on Saturday and talked the previous night on the phone when Jackson had travelled back home

“I’ve been here for twelve hours only so… cloudy ?"

Jinyoung smiled again.

“You’re talking to Jiwon today, right ?" Jackson remembered, from a quick conversation they had over the weekend. “How are you feeling ?"

“Like I’m about to fuck things up."

“Typical. But if you listen to the other part of your brain ?"

Jinyoung sighed.

“There’s something that’s been eating at me all night." he confessed. “Bambam is doing the interview, not me. Is it better if I talk to her before or after him ?"

“Hmm. How much time do you have before the shoot ?"

“Not much, it’s a light team."

“Then I suppose your best bet is to leap when you feel the moment is right. You’ll feel it."

Jinyoung nodded. It was a little vague, but he knew what Jackson meant. He had to wish really hard for a chance to offer itself up, and if he stayed mindful of his environment, his instinct would let him know when he had a green light. He had to trust that things would be fine. 

“You really sound like my fairy godmother." Jinyoung teased

“Isn’t that the best character to be ?"

“I don’t know, they never say anything about her as a character."

“When you come back you can go pitch a workplace comedy about the fairy godmother’s personal struggles to the Drama department."

“Do it yourself, you have the imagination for it."

There was a groggy laugh on the other side of the line. Jinyoung had not thought much about returning to Seoul, but now that it was approaching, he found himself impatient to be back. For the first time, however, he could conjecture that he might want to be back home rather than back to work.

“Do you know I’m very thankful for you ?" he whispered into the phone

“You mentioned, yes."

Jinyoung smiled to himself, shaking his head. There was a peaceful rhythm to the beat of his heart, he felt the warm sense of contentment one gets when they grab the assurance that, although the biggest load of work was still ahead, the part already untangled was a sign of progress. He had so much to still apply in his new resolutions, but at least his friend knew his sincere feelings.

“Though I don’t think I’ve said it back as much." Jackson mumbled, making Jinyoung still

“You don’t have to." he promised

Jackson always did so much, he couldn’t demand words on top of actions. Weren’t they meant to speak louder, anyway ?

“But I do." Jackson sighed, his voice was getting hard to perceive. “I answer questions with questions. Just because you come to me for advice doesn’t mean I don’t need some myself. Maybe that’s the appeal of looking at all the things Fairy Godmother can’t get right despite her job title being magical guidance counsellor."

Jinyoung would have hugged him if they were anywhere near each other, just like Jackson had done so many times when their roles were reserved. It was his friend who taught him wordlessly that a hand on a shoulder was a vital source of balance sometimes.

“I’m here." he said softly. “You can just start now. It doesn’t make me feel better to hear the stuff you say about yourself."

In the silence that followed, Jinyoung could hear Jackson’s smile.

“That’s my line." he protested weakly 

“Well if you need advice, you can just take your own then."

Another pensive silence. Jinyoung had decreased the water flow and was trying to wash the soap off his face without making any noise that could mask Jackson’s voice.

“You’re right." his friend sighed. “It’s just been a difficult few weeks. I feel like I’ve been questioning everything I’ve been doing."

Jinyoung knew the feeling.

“I’ll be back on Thursday." he promised his friend. “I’ll invite you and Youngjae and we’ll talk about all of it. Would that help ?"

“It’s a good idea."

Jinyoung felt warmth whirling through his chest : he got it right. He was going to be a good friend to his good friends.

“Thank you, Jinyoung." Jackson blurted out. “Thank you for calling, I was feeling lonely."

Jinyoung cut the water flow. His hand shot right to the base of his throat, where he had felt his heart tightening. 

“I’ll call again tonight." he assured. “We’ll have more time to talk."

“Yes, so you can tell me how it went with Jiwon."

“Maybe you can ask Youngjae to have lunch together at the cafeteria."

“Yes, I should do that."

There was a strange tension in Jinyoung’s muscles. It wasn’t like the sensation he had when he had to face his seniors, it was more… electric ? It made him impatient to see his sister rather than terrified.

“I know we were busy talking about me in Busan, but I didn’t forget what you said about not dealing well with people not wanting to stay with you." Jinyoung reminded him. “I guess we can’t keep hoping for the other to read our mind so it’s time we both learn how to ask. And justify being together not just with do you need me to stay ? but also just because we want to."

Jackson laughed softly.

“Spoken like a true grown up, Park Jinyoung."

Jinyoung smiled.

“About time I learned to be one."

They say careful what you wish for.

Jinyoung always assumed it was a warning directed at those who foolishly joked about things, forgetting that life was a trickster god. However, on Day Five, he started developing the theory that it applied also as a disclaimer that, in order to fulfil one’s wish, life would have to disrupt the planned conduct of things in ways at times… excessive.

Like swerving ninety degrees at the highway exit.

He found out firsthand as he repeated his wish to himself that entire morning, as he got dressed, as he munched on a quick breakfast, as he ran down to the vans to get to set… 

Please give me the chance to talk to Jiwon, before we shoot if possible.

They were shooting exteriors that day.

Jiwon had taken some days of leave, something she had refused to do since her breakup and they were accumulating in ways her boss did not like. 

Bambam’s idea this time around was stylistically a little more daring : they would be filming while walking through the city. This much moving was logistically and technically challenging, but the plan was to have three different presentations of what episodes could look like, to try different formats basically. 

“There’s gonna be some light rain around nine." Mark announced when they unloaded the gear from the vans. “Nothing that should disrupt the shoot but the crew should wear plastic capes just in case."

Jinyoung looked a little bit ridiculous in his opinion, which wasn’t great when this was supposed to be the day his sister saw him at work for the first time.

A glimpse of himself in the mirror reminded him of the ducks from the park’s pond. He was wearing heavy trekking boots and his large on-set green jacket with the hood drawn up, and he had stuck his head through the circular transparent plastic cape —with a second layer of hoodedness— that wasn’t so different from the stuff they made him wear on kindergarten class outings. He looked like he worked on a fishing boat.

A prime example of how those glamorous award shows gave a very wrong idea of what their prestigious professions were like most days.

Their first location was the cherry trees pathway. It’s where they were supposed to meet.

The sky was a soft, light silver colour. It made the flower petals that expanded under their feet look more white than pink. It was not the delicate, warm atmosphere of the show’s mood-board but it created a melancholic light that matched Jinyoung’s heart quite well.

His heart was beating slow but loud. It felt as if his entire body was being traversed by bass sound waves. He felt his nerves all the way to the tip of his fingers gripping his copy of the script, and under his tongue.

It tasted like bile.

“Hey, Park Jinyoung !"

Jinyoung whipped around, wide-eyed at the sudden informal call.

Jiwon laughed.

Behind her, the cherry trees seemed to frame her presence as something mystical, almost out of a dream or a vision. She was wearing the same white of the flowers and her hair was whirling around her, like a stormy crown, moved by the gusts of wind that were starting to grow stronger and stronger.

Jinyoung’s nerves melted, as a smile took over his lips.

“Don’t disrespect me in front of my team." he joked in a whiny voice. “I have a reputation to keep."

Jiwon cooed and opened her arms up to him. Jinyoung’s producer brain urged him to refuse the hug in case his work attire could stain her white clothes, however that electricity he had felt earlier that morning drew him straight towards his sister.

He held her tightly, almost desperately. 

The fear that she might hate him had choked him for close to an entire month now, but the feeling of her hand ruffling his hair felt like warm light of absolution.

Maybe he would be alright. He just needed to talk to her.

Please let me talk to her.

“Do they know I’m your sister ?" Jiwon asked when they pulled away, looking at the crew that was finishing their set up. “Should I call you by your job title instead ?"

“They know." Jinyoung assured. “Most people do, at least, I didn’t exactly make a grand speech about it."

Jiwon smiled warmly at him. Her eyes had a bright glimmer in them, much like they had the day he had won a local creative writing contest, or when he had managed to load the washing machine correctly for the first time after moving to Seoul.

It made Jinyoung feel a little less ridiculous.

“Okay we’re ready !" Hyejong yelled out

“Alright, everyone in position." Jinyoung called, feeling the familiar calmness run through him as he slipped back into his role. “Let’s shoot."

Too bad, he thought, I couldn’t talk to her…

At first, things went better than expected.

The moving camera set-up was challenging but, on the monitor, it looked like the operators were doing a fantastic job at making the shots steady and natural. 

The rest of the crew had set up their makeshift video village further away, on the other side of the street, where the vans were parked.

Bambam and Jiwon were walking along the cherry trees, talking about Jiwon’s daily life and memories of being in Jinhae since she was little. 

Jinyoung had feared the weather would make the image too washed out compared to the other segments they had shot the previous week. However, the contrast of Jiwon and Bambam’s white and dark blue clothes worked well with the contrast of the light flowers and dark tree trunks. The shots almost looked drawn out of a poetic animated fairy tale.

The first sign that something was about to shift came from Yiseol.

Jinyoung saw her grimacing, wincing as she held her headphones with both hands.

He frowned, gesturing with his chin to ask what was wrong.

“The wind is getting too strong." she huffed. “It’s saturating the levels on the wire mics."

Jinyoung tensed up. Saturating sound levels were a big problem. They also had a boom operator moving with the rest of the crew, that microphone would be protected from the wind but it might not catch the details of the conversation exactly as well.

Jinyoung grabbed his headphones from where they rested on his shoulders and put them over his ears, forcing himself to tune into the conversation he was too nervous to eavesdrop on.

“I’ve never thought about living somewhere else." his sister was saying. “But these days too much of Jinhae reminds me of the past twelve years and it’s been—"

The sound fried as the microphones were hit by a gust of wind, cutting the end of her sentence. Jinyoung took out his headphones.

“Okay, this is not good." he muttered to himself

Perhaps there was still time to interrupt the flow of the conversation and pause the shoot until the wind calmed down…

He leaned over to take a look at the monitors.

Careful what you wish for, Park Jinyoung.

One of the cameras was filming both Bambam and Jiwon at quite a large angle, as they walked forward, with the background visible, including the sky that had turned from a soft grey to a near black. In a split second, right in between the two of them, the frame was cut in half by the strike of lightning.

It was a gorgeous shot.

But Jinyoung had to think like a producer now, not a director.

“Hyejong, call them back !" he yelled over the rumbling thunder. “Mark ! Where’s the closest dry spot ?"

As Mark gestured at a building a few feet away from them, another crack of thunder shook the ground, and the clouds unleashed cold, violent, pouring rain.

“Everyone get back !"

The entirety of the crew bolted away towards the building that Mark was guiding them to. It had a large open entrance, sheltered by an arched porch, that gave way to a courtyard garden, bordered by several small restaurants. The team found a dry spot for them and the equipment under the arches. 

Jinyoung noticed that the cameramen had not stopped recording.

“You said light rain !" Bambam complained to Mark as he took in the state of his drenched hair. “This is a downpour."

“That’s what the weather app announced." Mark defended himself

“It’s spring, you should always expect the weather to get worse." Hyejong reprimanded 

Jinyoung rose his hands as a gesture to calm them down.

“It’s alright, it’s not a major setback so far." he said. “We should pause here and resume when the rain stops. Let’s give it twenty minutes, if it still pours we change locations."

Mark nodded, gesturing at the production team to move the gear into a corner for safety measures.

“Actually, this isn’t too bad as a location." Bambam remarked, looking at the porch. “It’s natural light."

Jiwon chuckled. Her white clothes were completely damp, and so was her hair, but she had a tranquil smile on her face as if she didn’t mind.

“Yugyeom." Jinyoung called. “Get some towels."

Their youngest pulled up his plastic hood and darted to the van. He was back within seconds, with a thick bag tucked under his jacket. The production team started to distribute towels to those who took the brunt of the rain : the cameramen, Bambam… And one for Jiwon too.

As she started drying her hair, Jinyoung slipped out of his plastic cape and took off his jacket.

“Here." he handed it out to his sister. “It’s not very pretty but if Bambam decides to keep shooting here, I don’t think we’ll have time to get you some dry clothes."

“Jinyoung, you’re gonna freeze." she protested, pushing the jacket back

“I won’t, I’ve done this before."

Adapting to unforeseen circumstances was a big part of their job description. They had to make the best of every situation, if there was a snow fall, an actor injured or stuck in traffic, noisy construction works… Deciding to not wait for the rain to stop was not peculiar at all, there was no guarantee that the weather would get better soon enough to avoid massive wastes of time, as they would have to set up all over again.

“If we shoot here, we have to pick the spot away from the wind." Yiseol analysed. “We can take out the cardioid mics."

Jinyoung nodded, turning to Hyejong.

“We can make them face the outside so we don’t shoot them with the light in their backs." he suggested. “We can put one camera on each side of that column, a mobile at the back that can also get a wide shot, and one at the front under an umbrella."

His DP gave him a thumbs up and gestured to gather her team for instructions. 

“We need to redo the makeup and take off their wires." Eunji reminded him then

“Do we have any bathrooms nearby ?"

“In the barbecue restaurant at the back." Mark said. “We asked them during scoutings."

“Okay then Yugyeom can take everyone there while we set up here."

He turned around to face his sister again, before she was ushered away with Bambam and the makeup team. 

“I’m sorry that your first on-set experience is so chaotic. It’s not always like that."

“It’s fine." she smiled. “It’s just rain."

“Not too nervous ?"

“Not at all, Bambam has been really sweet so far. I can tell why he’s so famous."

Well, in that case, Jinyoung was the only nervous one.

Please, let me talk to her.

“Jinyoung, Yiseol needs to see you."

That made Jinyoung almost cheer out loud.

They were in the middle of setting up, and he was overseeing the process so he had no reason at all to go check on his teammates at the barbecue restaurant, unless his help was explicitly demanded.

He grabbed an umbrella and dashed under the pouring rain, running across the garden yard until he spotted the open door of the restaurant, with its wooden façade and warm lanterns framing the entrance.

He greeted the person he assumed was the manager, who stood on the porch, staring at the rain with the worried face of someone who knew Mondays were already not their biggest sales day. 

He found Yiseol easily. Her small stature and large black hoodie did not mask at all her characteristic way of moving, dragging her feet and making every gesture discreet, as if she was always folded over herself.

“We have an issue that involves money." she announced, sheepishly rubbing the back of her short hair

“That’s me." Jinyoung agreed, a little theatrical in hopes that it would make her laugh enough to dissolve some tension. “I’m the money guy."

She held up the object she had been fumbling with for him to look. Jinyoung recognised it immediately as the microphone pack that they had equipped Bambam and Jiwon with earlier.

“I think one of the packs has been damaged." Yiseol explained. “When Bambam took it off it was still drenched in water, I think Jiwon’s hair protected hers a little more. I’ve been trying to activate it for a few minutes now, but it’s still unresponsive. We might have to file some paperwork tonight you and I…"

Jinyoung tapped the microphone, not that it would give any sign. Equipment incidents happened, their network had some external rental partners but usually things like sound gear were the responsibility of their technical departments. It wasn’t the end of the world but it was part of Jinyoung’s more bureaucratic tasks.

“Looks like it." he sighed

That wasn’t good news. If he was held up after work, Jiwon would probably go home before he had a chance to get to her. He wouldn’t bother her in her rest time between two exhausting days, so he would have to push backs his hopes of a conversation to twenty-four hours later.

“Put the damaged one in a plastic bag." he instructed, his shoulders dropping in resignation. “Do we have enough spare packs ?"

“I have at least one fully charged in the case. And more in the van."

“We’ll make do for today."

Yiseol nodded and got to work.

Jinyoung’s face was contorting into a frustrated pout. Was it because he had higher expectations for the day that he felt so on edge ? If it was any other day, would he just shrug it off ?

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened in front of him and Jiwon walked out, still wearing Jinyoung’s jacket and with her hair a little dryer.

She smiled as their eyes met.

“It’s nice to have someone do your makeup for you." she chuckled as she patted her cheeks. “I felt like a little kid."

Jinyoung’s face softened.

“Come work in show-business and you’ll get the special treatment every day." he quipped

“I think it would break the magic."

Yes, Jinyoung figured it was true. It was his work, so he sometimes forgot the fantasies that could be built from the outside. They sold dreams, not exactly unlike a construction team built a house or a bridge. The magic was the result, not the process.

“Jiwon…"

The words were out of his mouth in a breath, like soft wind seeping in when one opened the window.

Her eyes widened in curiosity, looking through Jinyoung with the cruel kindness of someone who would still hold their hand out to help you after you wounded them.

“I…" Jinyoung hesitated, mouth dry. “Will you…"

He had no time. They were on a deadline and he couldn’t delay the show even one second more. 

He remembered how he had just asked Yuna, or Jackson that morning. A simple question.

“Can I talk to you ?" he blurted out, finally, looking at her with pleading eyes. “Not now but… I really have to talk to you, if… if you’d be okay to make time…" 

“Aw, baby."

Jiwon pouted and ruffled his hair.

“I’m not angry at you, if you’re still stuck on that." she promised

“No, that’s not it. I mean, it is, but it’s about all of it and I can’t go back to Seoul if I don’t tell you everything."

She smiled, and studied his face for a few seconds without saying a word. Jinyoung’s heart was hammering, making the bones of his chest tremble.

“Wanna have a picnic together on the pier for dinner ?" she offered finally, scrunching her nose like she was talking to a toddler. “Like we did before you left ?"

Jinyoung slapped her hand gently, now that she was trying to make his hair spike up eccentrically. 

“I will throw you under the rain if you don’t stop." he whined

“Then smile and I’ll stop. I don’t like it when you make sad faces at me."

Truly, Jinyoung should have been careful for what he wished for.

He just wanted to make things right, why was he being teased ?

Jiwon pushed him towards the exit.

Jinyoung beamed.

The week before Jinyoung had left for Seoul, almost twelve years earlier, had been one of the strangest in his life.

He remembered floating through every day, not like he was swimming in cotton-candy bliss, but because every single second tasted like farewell and it was making him dizzy.

His parents had been buzzing with constant lists of what was left to do, what was missing, what he had to pack… It was electrical in a way that should had been electrifying, but Jinyoung had found it impossible to savour it. 

He’d gaze upon a street and wonder if he’d see it again. He’d look at the elderly owner of a small shop and freeze the image, in case both the owner and the shop would disappear if he turned his back. He’d zone out of a conversation, taking in the dark colour of his parents’ hair, asking himself if he would get the witness their slow greying or if it would hit him one day like a done deal.

It was perhaps a little dramatic for someone who was just leaving for university, but Jinyoung already held, at the time, the deep-seated worry that he should not come back without having accomplished anything. Time would only tell…

It had been in that context that Jiwon had barged into his room one evening, as he was turning his closet upside-down to see what was worth bringing to Seoul. Jinyoung remembered the bright grin on her face and the backpack ready to burst from how full it was. To be exact, this was two evenings before he left.

She had dragged him to the pier, just as a rosy sunset painted the bay water.

“You need to say goodbye to your hometown in style." she had reasoned

Now, Jinyoung could not recall what they had talked about. He was still in his haze and she was supposed to drive him to Seoul, so he had figured that it wasn’t like anything would be left unsaid. Oh how seventeen-year-olds think they have nothing left to learn from the world...

If Jinyoung could go back to that day, he would force himself to look at his sister instead of contemplating his own thoughts, and he would admit that he was scared shitless of what would be waiting for him in Seoul.

The first person he told that, was Bambam. He held it in for close to three years.

Was it a second chance, then ? 

He would have never have thought of the pier himself. He probably at most would have invited Jiwon to his hotel’s restaurant as payback for taking hours away from her rest. 

Did Jiwon’s thoughts often wander back to how they said goodbye ? To how what was supposed to be Jinyoung’s new adventure turned, in retrospect, into his disappearance from their lives ? 

Was she offering him a chance to make it right, this time ? Or was Jinyoung desperately trying to tear grander meanings from little, arbitrary pieces ? 

As fate would have it, the sun set over the packing up of their shooting day. They would not have rosy waves, this time.

First day went smooth, gonna talk to Jiwon now! Jinyoung texted Jackson, attaching a few pictures he had captured when they had finally managed to shoot next to the rain soaked cherry trees

Actually, as a producer, Jinyoung had to say he was particularly proud of what they had in the box for the day. He had a good crew, most shoots were satisfying, but there were moments when just by looking at the monitor, it was obvious that they had something particularly special.

He tried to not be too biased about the fact that it was his sister’s episode. But despite the fact that he had not heard any of the dialogue —since he felt like he could not put on the headphones without crumbling to dust, but it was okay, he had approved the script, he knew what the conversation would be about— he had seen from the monitors that the choice of locations, of framing created a feel perfectly aligned with Bambam’s core hopes for the show when he had pitched it. The rain contributed to a sort of larger-than-life quality that could only be found in the most gorgeous filmic contemplations, and Jinyoung now really hoped they could keep it up for two more days.

Break a leg, I’m heading out for drinks with Youngjae

Have fun!

<3

Mark sent him a thumbs-up when the last van was fully loaded and ready to head back to the hotel.

Jinyoung, who was still filing paperwork about the damaged microphone packs with Yiseol, acknowledged him with a hand gesture of his own.

Jiwon was chatting with Bambam. The two of them had beaming smiles on their faces. It made Jinyoung’s heart warm. These two people precious to him, hit it off like friends. If he was the common denominator, in between their beautiful hearts, then maybe there was some hope for him…

“Will that get deducted from anyone’s pay ?" Bambam asked when he and Jiwon ended up approaching the gear suitcase Yiseol and Jinyoung were using as a table

“Not if I’m a competent producer." Jinyoung mumbled, deep into his mental calculations. “If I prepared the unexpected expenses budget line correctly."

“Jinyoung is the best producer in the country." Bambam informed Jiwon, his chest swelling. “We can count on him for everything."

“You only worked with me." Jinyoung retorted. “I’m your only measure of comparison."

Yiseol looked up from the file she was completing to give him a small sign.

“I worked with a bunch and you’re one of those I worry the least about." she said

Jinyoung frowned.

“Did you work with Im Jaebeom ?"

“Yes. On his last show. Why ?"

“Am I better than him ?"

Yiseol tried to hold back a laugh, but ended up sounding like a deflating balloon.

“Also." Bambam added, still talking to Jiwon. “Jinyoung systematically deflects positive conversations about himself. At this point, it’s a superpower."

You could only see two stars, reflected on the black water, in the sky. 

One of them was probably the bright planet Venus, looking down upon Earth to meet the gaze of a lonely soul in search of guidance.

Jiwon was walking ahead of Jinyoung, swaying to the sides and swinging the bag full of food that they had stopped to get at a convenience store. She was humming the melody of a song that Jinyoung was having a hard time recognising, with his sister’s gibberish delivery of the lyrics.

“How did it go again ?" she asked, whipping around as they finally reached the side of the pier

She kept singing the same part over and over again while they sat down and Jinyoung began rummaging through the bag to get the food out.

“Ugh it’s been too long, I don’t remember." she finally gave up, grabbing the box that Jinyoung was handing her. “I feel like I stopped listening to music for years now, I forgot all my favourite songs, it’s horrible, I have to get back into it and do a mini-concert in my kitchen."

Jinyoung smiled at her, opening his food as well. 

“Please record it and send it to me if you do." he laughed

“No. Only I get to witness my amazing private shows."

Jinyoung’s smile only grew larger. 

He waited until his sister was chewing her second bite to take a deep breath. Where would he even start ?

“I saw Kyeongho a few days ago." he said, voice low and unsteady. “I ran into him at a bakery."

He dreaded to look at her face, but surprisingly she just rose her eyebrows and kept chewing, her cheeks inflated like a hamster. Jinyoung almost let out a laugh.

“He wanted me to relay a message for you but I told him I wouldn’t." he continued. “But I think it’s unfair not to ask you if you want to hear it."

Jiwon swallowed, then frowned exaggeratedly.

“He has my number, why does he ask you things he could ask me ?"

“Jiwon, is that the point ? He’s probably just a coward."

She snorted, almost spitting out her food.

“No, let’s cut him some slack." she waved through the air. “It can’t be that easy to reach out to me. What did he want to say ?"

It was Jinyoung’s turn to frown, staring at his sister’s unfazed face.

“It doesn’t affect you ? You’re okay talking about him ?" he questioned

Jiwon finished swallowing the food she had just bitten into before answering.

“I mean…" she sighed. “What can I do at this point ? It’s been months. It’s not like I can complete erase someone I spent so much of my life with."

Jinyoung wanted to understand that. It was his own anger at her ex-boyfriend for hurting her that made him so hostile, but it was natural for someone to want a form of closure.

“He just said he’s sorry." Jinyoung said, after a few seconds of pondering. “That it ended up with you being hurt."

Jiwon remained silent, eating her food with her gaze fixed on the dark water that hit the cement wall of the pier under their feet.

Jinyoung studied her face. It didn’t betray much emotion, it was difficult to decipher. At first sight, she seemed rather peaceful, with no tension in her muscles, but there was something in the glimmer of her eyes… Something melancholic but not quite devastated ? Like saying goodbye to yet one more year of your life on the eve of a birthday.

The inevitable, surely, was not painless despite being necessary.

“I told him that if he feels bad about it, he should just work through it." Jinyoung added to fill her silence

That tore a small smile from Jiwon’s lips.

“That’s not a nice thing to say." she reprimanded him softly, without any bite

“Sue me."

“You know, guilt is a tough feeling to deal with. I think one of the toughest. It can eat you up even when you think you’ve done the best you could do."

Yeah… Jinyoung was aware of that…

“But you can’t absolve him." Jinyoung argued, repeating what he had told her ex at the bakery. “He has to go through that guilt alone."

“That’s true, but I can believe that at least he cares enough about me to even have guilt. I hope he forgives himself for it but I selfishly find comfort in the idea that, no matter how much I hurt, it could have been so much worse if he had truly been a bad person."

In those moments, Jinyoung knew that anyone unfamiliar would guess she was the oldest. Would he ever have the maturity to not hold a grudge forever against someone, if they had no choice but to hurt you ?

“I think, in any case, it wouldn’t be difficult to forgive him but it would never lead him anywhere if he doesn’t forgive himself."

At those words, Jinyoung dropped his head low.

He felt like his chest was bleeding, like he had been cut right open. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the burning sensation that was threatening to turn into tears, and bit his lip hard so it wouldn’t tremble.

“Jinyoung…" Jiwon whispered

Could he ever, one day, forgive himself ?

For a full week and more now, he had been trying to do well on his promise to change. He had listened to Jackson, he had listened to Bambam, he had listened to Mark, and his parents… He had agreed to shift his idea of himself from usurper to captain, from selfish friend to someone who was valued by those around him. And yet… Yet there was something in him, something that had weighed on his heart for the entire week’s duration.

Every conversation, he felt a piece missing. He felt like he had walked one step forward and yet he still couldn’t get a glimpse of the full picture.

“Nyoung."

What was he after then, if not forgiveness ? Forgiveness from everybody around him, that they could grant perhaps but that would not soothe any of the pain and anger he felt against himself… Was that the missing piece ? That he had been chasing something he could not have ? That he had foolishly placed a hope in the hands of his friends, that actually was his sole responsibility to carry out ?

“Hey Park Jinyoung."

Jinyoung looked up when Jiwon cupped his face to force him to meet her gaze. 

His cheeks were drenched in tears.

“Oh baby…" she said, softly. “You were right, we do need to talk. I can’t let you hold that in for a second longer."

It was all it took : Jiwon’s sweet smile and kind eyes, her reassuring touch on his cheeks… for Jinyoung to break down in sobs.

Jiwon pushed the food aside to have the space to pull him into a hug. As Jinyoung sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed, she swayed them side to side, slowly rubbing his back. Through his crying, he heard her sniff with her face into his shoulder.

“I think we’ve been far from home for too long." she breathed out in a croaky voice

Jinyoung felt every breath tear out his lungs like he was inhaling fire, like he was a shipwrecked sailor washing ashore after days of being tossed around by fierce waves.

He felt pangs of pain in his abdomen with the way his diaphragm jumped at every hiccup.

And in those pangs he felt something new spreading through his chest, a sensation neither cold nor warm, like the strange euphoria of dropping everything at once without caring if it breaks or not. 

Through his life, Jinyoung had fought back tears many times, and yet in that moment, he wanted nothing less than the cries that were shaking him.

“I’m sorry…" he sobbed. “I’m so sorry…"

“No, no."

Jiwon patted the back of his head.

“Don’t be sorry." she whispered. “I’m sorry."

She took his face in her hands and leaned back to look at him. Her face was just as bathed in tears as his.

“I shouldn’t have said those things on the phone." she mouthed, her voice not even coming out anymore

Jinyoung shook his head, tearing her hands from his face and holding on to her wrists as if he was pleading for mercy.

“No, you were right. I’ve been doing everything wrong, I’ve been awful as a son and as a brother and you were right to tell it like that."

“No, Jinyoung, I was angry ! I wasn’t even thinking."

“But you should have been angry. I’ve been acting like this for years, and you guys didn’t even get a thank you for any of—"

“No, Jinyoung, that’s not why I was angry."

He stilled. 

His eyes widened a bit. Jiwon let out a joyless laugh, her gaze on him shone with endearment, as if he was a little lost puppy.

“You can’t even conceive it, can you ?" she said breathlessly. “That I’m not angry at you ?"

“But you have all the reasons to be…"

“Jinyoung… For months now, you’ve been calling and texting almost every day to check up on me, and I’ve been ghosting you, and I’ve been lying, and I’ve never once asked how you were, all of that while that fucking pain in my heart won’t go away fast enough and I’m giving my family reasons to worry, do you really think it’s you I was angry at ?"

Jinyoung opened his mouth and furrowed his brows.

“Why would you be angry at yourself when you’re doing your best ?" he said, not even finding the grasp on those words

“My best ? Jinyoung, how is lashing out at my brother who’s only trying to cheer me up doing my best ?"

Jinyoung’s reply died in his throat. 

Jiwon took ones of her hands back to aggressively wipe her cheek, groaning in frustration.

“I was in my thirties still acting like a child. It’s like I never grew up while I was with him."

“I’ve been single the whole time and I’m not better than you, I don’t think it’s your fault."

Jiwon snorted.

“Why do you always find excuses for me ?"

Jinyoung smiled weakly.

“Isn’t that what little brothers do ?"

She shook her head, looking to the side, at the water swallowed by the dark of the night.

“I couldn’t stand it." she mumbled. “You know, I had read all the books, I had heard the characters in the movies, I thought I was not supposed to be floored by heartbreak. You’re supposed to shake it off, get back out, focus on yourself and find love again down the line, right ?"

“Jiwon, that’s cruel…"

“And the issue is that you were completely right. I called you that day because I was running in circles trying to fill the emptiness and I needed to feel a grip on something, but when you saw right through me I just…"

She took her face into her hands, rubbing her eyes, ruffling her hair and looking back up with another groan.

“It was shame." she admitted, closing her eyes and pursing her lips. “I was just boiling with shame and anger. You know… I must be failing really hard if I’m so transparent to him who doesn’t even see me, that sort of feeling."

“I’m the one who shouldn’t have pointed it out so harshly. You were reaching out to me and that was just mean."

“You weren’t harsh. You were just cutting through my bullshit."

“There’s a time and place to do that."

“Jinyoung."

“I’m serious."

“Stop it."

They fell silent, looking at each other with fixed gazes and tense faces.

“I’m sorry." Jinyoung cut through before she could speak first. “That I wasn’t here. For you, for Mom, for Dad. I’m sorry that I left you all thinking that I only care about me and my career. I’m sorry that I took all of your kindness without ever giving you any of it back."

Jiwon pouted, reaching out to hold his hand.

“Don’t say I was doing my best." he pleaded. “Mom and Dad wouldn’t hear any of it so I need you at least to be honest with me, I don’t want my feelings spared."

Jiwon smiled. Facing Jinyoung was her large, glowing smile.

He grimaced, bewildered.

“This is so funny." she blurted out

“Huh ?" Jinyoung almost yelled. “How ?!"

How was any of this remotely— what ? Of all the reactions in the world to have… Jinyoung wasn’t sure if he was expecting anger, kindness, understanding, but certainly not… huh ?

“You didn’t listen to what Bambam and I were talking about today, did you ?" Jiwon snickered. “That’s why you didn’t wear your headphones."

Jinyoung’s face was still contorted in utter confusion.

“No." he answered. “It was a little difficult."

“It’s so funny. You should do the show with me, it would be fascinating."

“What are you even talking about ?"

She grabbed a bite of their neglected food, ecstatically patting Jinyoung’s knee.

“I explained to Bambam that after the breakup, I kinda dropped off the grid and stopped talking to everyone." she recounted. “I told him how I switched off my phone and laser-focused on work. He asked why I thought I did it, and I thought it was sort of obvious, but it got me wondering."

She sighed.

“I hate living alone. I found out when I had to move in my own place. There’s always too much silence. So it’d be logical to reach out for company, right ? Like going back to stay with Mom and Dad, for example. And there I realised : wait. Someone said the exact thing to me before."

“Me." Jinyoung guessed. “That day on the phone."

“Yeah, and what did I tell you ?"

“That you didn’t want the neighbours to judge you. It’s the shame you were saying earlier."

She nodded, then leaned over to look at him straight in the eyes, grabbing both of his hands.

“Will you share it with me honestly if I ask you why you stayed away from us for so long ?" she said, her voice the softest sound in the peaceful night

Jinyoung held his breath.

Was that what Yuna meant ? The moment someone ceased to be just their factual, arbitrary relation to you, and became a person ? Jiwon was looking at him with that kind, sincere smile of someone who could read his heart inside-out. Was it because she had seen him as a person, in all his trials and errors, efforts and shortcomings, the individual he had grown into ?

“It’s because…" he hesitated, feeling his voice breaking. “It was terrifying."

“Terrifying to look in the eyes of people who only have love for you and only be able to see your own failures in their concern ? Fearing that if you accept their love, you’ll just break down ?"

“I was holding so much in that if I would have crumbled to tears the second one of you asked if I was okay."

“And then you wonder if you can even afford to break down, if it’s gonna take long to recover, if it’s not just better to keep it in and keep your energy for all the things you have to face, for all the work you have to do."

“So hopefully, by showing them that you’re working so hard, you’ll ease their worries without having to let them see you breaking apart."

“Because what if this all means that you can’t do it ? What if you break and people ask if you’re really sure you want to continue doing this ? Do people who are meant for this even break like I do ?"

“Then it would only prove the neighbours right. That I dreamed so big I burned my wings, cause it was never my destiny to touch the sun."

Jiwon pinched his cheek. Jinyoung wiped the tears that were welling up in his eyes.

“That’s what’s funny." she said. “I mean, it’s not funny, it’s ironic."

Jinyoung knew what she was going to say.

Finally, the fog was starting to dissipate, to only leave the clear view.

“You and I…" Jiwon smiled. “In our own ways… we’re going through the same things, and yet we chose to bear the weight of them alone instead of helping each other out."

That, that was what Yuna meant. 

“You’re not looking for ways to support your sister even at a distance, you’re looking at ways to atone. You’re looking at every problem except the one your sister actually has."

“So you’re saying the more I obsess over the things I do wrong, the less space I have to actually care for her."

“I’m saying you do seem to spend more energy on your own repentance than on what she really needs right now. Maybe the best thing you can do is to see her as a person beyond the fact that she’s your sister."

They were both doing that.

The only thing that they both needed was someone to understand them, to help make sense of all the mess of fears and the pain, someone to feel a less alone with, someone they could learn with. Someone they could relate to. Someone they could mirror each other into. They needed one another, plainly, as two people in a world of hurt, trying to become better adults.

But the lonely road is often the longest, and most dreadful.

In trying to repent alone, they had skipped on the chance to grow in the fastest and easiest way. They had shunned out the one chance they had to truly help each other, in ways no one else in the world could. 

Two people who were also siblings, two people far too similar to escape their buried truths, to conceal their shames. 

“We both run away from the people we love when we’re ashamed of ourselves." Jinyoung muttered, remembering how he had made that same observation to himself back in Seoul but had refused to get to the bottom of what it meant beyond that he could see through his sister’s pretences

“Yes. And you know who else does that ?"

Jinyoung frowned, confused.

“Who else won’t tell the people who love them what they’re going through because they’re afraid their concern might make their feeling of failure all too real ?"

Oh… Jinyoung realised. “Mom and Dad."

Jiwon nodded.

“It’s a family heirloom."

“But it’s not their fault, they couldn’t control what happened to them."

Jiwon looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“Please repeat what you said earlier about me doing my best." she groaned, exasperated

“But you were. Your world came crashing down in minutes."

“Then, if you can find compassion for me, why can’t you find it for yourself ?"

“Because it was unfair to all of you."

“And me ghosting everyone and then lashing out wasn’t ? The parents keeping you in the dark about things that could have become extremely dangerous, wasn’t ?"

Once again, he could hear Yuna’s cutthroat comments in the back of his head : do you have a martyr complex ? Did he ?

Was that why he chained himself to the image of a usurper captain for so many years ? As eternal punishment for getting everything he wanted since he was a child, and in that process choosing himself above everyone who had ever loved him. Was it because he couldn’t forgive his own selfishness that he condemned himself to never enjoy the life he had worked so hard for, often to the detriment of his own health ? A curse of torment for the crime of putting his dreams first.

There was a name for the ghost that haunted him, in every mirror and every reflective surface of the network building.

No, not shame this time.

A far more insidious and poisonous sentiment. Perhaps the rotten devil of all emotions, the one that destroyed and never healed, that consumed and never gave back any second they ripped from your life.

Only a few more minutes and Jinyoung would get it. Finally.

“We’re all unfair to one another." Jiwon concluded. “We all make decisions that have consequences on the people around us."

“But the parents told you about their struggles. You can’t deny the obvious. It’s because I’ve never been here for you guys that they thought they would be a burden to me."

“Jinyoung, you need to realise that you don’t have that kind of power over anyone. They decided not to tell you, not because of you, because of them. Nothing was stopping them from calling you, they called you about grandma and you offered your help immediately. By logical conclusion, anyone would think that you would be there for them if they called. They didn’t because they were scared of what it would say about them to share their problems. It’s like us and the neighbours."

The fucking neighbours… 

Was Jinyoung really so desperately clinging onto every reason to deny himself forgiveness ?

Just a little more…

He sighed heavily, throwing his legs over the ledge of the pier and leaning back until his body was flush against the cold cement of the pier.

“I wish I had realised all of that sooner." he groaned. “I’m gonna turn thirty soon and I’m still just as blindsided as a teenager."

“You could never have. Don’t beat yourself up."

Jinyoung threw his sister a questioning look.

“What do you mean I could never have ?"

She smiled, pushing the untouched food into the bag it came from to protect it.

“These things aren’t born in the void." she clarified. “You could never have even seen it before because all the fears you lived with were too suffocating."

She lied down on her stomach, chin resting on her hands, looking down at the water.

“Your fears are the product of your past." she continued. “To break out of mechanisms you’ve gotten stuck into for so many years, you need something stronger. Louder, even. Louder than the memories of the past, louder than the fear that’s taking up your whole view. So loud that you can’t just push it to the side again, and so loud you know that if you don’t face it, the only way your life can go is downhill."

Jinyoung felt his chest swell up.

“Loud ?" he repeated, the word calling to him

“Yes like your alarm in the morning. Or like a siren, like a shock."

“Louder than fear ?"

It was on the tip of his tongue, burning like red iron.

“Guilt."

As soon as the word slipped from his lips, Jinyoung felt the sky opening up. It didn’t crumble or crash down, it blew its doors wide open and let through a rain of golden stars that fell over Jinyoung like the warmest light he had ever felt inside of his heart. 

He almost broke into tears.

It was earth-shatteringly simple. So much that it tore his heart to pieces. 

Guilt was an ever-fresh wound in the shape of a cruel rictus, right there on the most vulnerable part of the chest. It shredded the skin over years, slowly, and refused to ever stop bleeding. It was the gaping mark that felt naked to everyone’s eyes.

Guilt was the sadistic tormenter that Jinyoung had allowed to chain him up to an eternal feeling of not deserving the blessings he had bled for. 

Guilt, not only for leaving his family behind, for never repaying their sacrifices, for being too weak to resist the fear of judgment… but actually, first and foremost, for dreaming in the first place. Guilt for wishing to live the life that people from his town rarely got to touch, guilt for taking the risk to delude himself with his chances. Because it took gall to stand in a room full of people presenting their dreams of becoming lawyers, doctors, public servants, business owners, and say I want to be a television producer, I want to sell entertainment and escapism, and make so much money from a smokescreen. I want to make art.

Guilt that he had decided to test out his wings, rather than folding them neatly and bowing to the sun in reverence. 

And guilt that it paid off. 

Yes, because his parents were right. He worked so hard and he made it. Or if he let the guilt rephrase it : he pushed away his family and he became one of the rising stars of variety television. Would he have reached the same height if he had been a better son, a better brother, a better person ? The guilt said : no, and that’s exactly why you can’t take credit for any of it, you couldn’t get there by yourself, you had to unballast—

But Jinyoung was not the usurper captain who had somehow stolen the kingdom keys.

He was a trusted producer, a reliable leader, a competent technician, and his crew did not follow him because he had managed to fool them, but because they recognised him as one of them. 

Bambam had probably put it best. It was not Jinyoung who had tricked them into coming to Jinhae to take care of his personal problems for him… it was a concerted decision to choose what was best for their project. 

The only thing Jinyoung had ever done was to choose what was best, regardless of how difficult it was. 

Moving Choi Gyuri’s show to a different, less prestigious time slot was not heartless sabotage. It was the best move for her show’s audience, and for Bambam’s.

Accepting to take over his seniors’ shows was not insolent disrespect, it was the good chance to take to save the crews who depended on those projects.

And shooting in Jinhae was the best idea, because it was a small perimeter, because it fit Bambam’s vision and because they had at least one top crew member who knew the area like his pocket.

Jinyoung had not stolen any of the jewels on his crown.

And he was not some lonely, selfish bastard who used up the people around him for his own benefit. He was a friend that more than one person cherished, that more than one person wanted to walk alongside of for as long as life permitted them to. 

Was Jinyoung a good son, then ? A good brother ? Guilt said no, you have too many faults to atone for. And Jinyoung could retort that he may not be faultless, but that did not make him unworthy. He had never had anything other than pure, devoted love for his family. He had failed at demonstrating it as he deemed appropriate, but when the opportunity had presented himself he had never let anyone down. He had looked out for his sister, he had cared for his grandmother, and the seed of how he could do the same for his parents had been planted in his mind the week before. 

Jinyoung was only turning thirty. He had until he died to become a better person, to do right by his past mistakes, to grow into an adult who truly felt like one.

So not being perfect, not being faultless was in no way a charge heavy enough to warrant eternal punishment from the cruelest of all emotions. 

And there it was, plain and simple.

The thing that had escaped him for so long, that he had perhaps come so far to search for. That these seven days were amounting to, although he had only gotten to the fifth. 

The universal law that there’s no one in the world that holds back words of apology more than those who are filled to the brim with guilt.

And Jinyoung was filled with it to the point of breaking apart.

That was what Seo Beomjun had seen in him, in his own unkind way.

He was so devoured from the inside by the guilt of having abandoned the very people who made it possible to become who he was in the first place, that he had to mask every sorry with a thank you, lest it happened again with someone else. Lest it would hit him in the face and break him for good. Because guilt, once it pours out of surface wounds… once it is let out… becomes your definite sentence. The final verdict, that can’t be ignored again in favour of the bliss of masquerading as a good person.

However, for the past week, Jinyoung had been saying sorry more than any other word, besides action and cut.

So was guilt the real loud wake up call to tear him out of his years of fear ? Was he apologising to everyone he had neglected or hurt as a way to repent, to face his own punishment ? To be a martyr ?

Or was there something much louder than guilt, capable of breaking the chains of the curse he had sentenced himself to carry ? 

Was it Yuna ? Was it Jackson ? Who or what had lifted the veil off of both his unfair assessment of himself and the forsaken wounds of a lifetime past ?

His head snapped up.

In the faint glow of the streetlights that bordered the pier, Jiwon’s face looked clear as day, as if Jinyoung was seeing it for the first time.

“You." he blurted out. “It was you."

Or more precisely, it was her disappearances, it was her glaring pain and the aching distance that rendered Jinyoung powerless to protect someone he loved. 

Jinyoung’s fearful slumber of about twelve years had been deep, but no match to the love that bound him to the person who had known him the longest. 

Without Jiwon’s breakup, without her difficult reaction to heartbreak, Jinyoung might still be delaying calls to Jinhae, might not have visited for a couple more years, might not have looked at his friendships in a new light, might not have shed off his self-imposed impostor label… might not have allowed himself the chance to see that he was more than a list of his faults. 

And by all means, his process was deeply flawed. Guilt was strong, and was pushing him to crawl down to people’s feet in apology and repentance, much like what Seo Beomjun had hoped he would do. He had stopped punishing himself as a usurper, and now had moved on to a new curse : that of the unforgivable sinner who would have to keep saying sorry and rejecting understanding words for the rest of his life.

But they had all pointed it out : Jackson, Bambam, his parents, Yuna, Jiwon. It was not right either. It did not heal any wound to dwell in guilt. Past realising one’s shortcomings, one’s faults, past the apologies, there had to be something more than eternal punishment.

There had to be growth. 

There had to be forgiveness.

Otherwise Jinyoung would still remain devoured by his own guilt, just under a different mask. 

“I’m happy that my heartbreak can be at least beneficial to someone." Jiwon muttered

“Hey !" Jinyoung shot back, high pitched

“Hey. It’s a joke. Let me joke about it."

Jinyoung breathed out.

He felt a little… stunned. 

“I was too scared of losing everything that I never got to cherish what I achieved." he concluded. “I think that’s pretty sad."

“I think that’s pretty exciting."

Jinyoung pushed himself up on his elbows to frown at her. She laughed.

“I had the same fear as you." she explained. “I thought I came home one night to find out I had lost half of my life."

She rolled around on her side and sat up to face him, holding her knees between her arms.

“But you know what I saw today, talking to Bambam ?" her eyes lit up. “It’s not twelve years lost, or twelve years wasted."

She opened the palm of her hand and started counting on her fingers.

“In the last twelve years, I got a diploma. I got told I was good at many things. I made friends, I saw new places. I read new books and learned things I never knew. I went to parties, on walks, I got a job, then another, and another one."

Jinyoung’s eyes welled up, his chest filling up with soft warmth. She was beaming, looking at him.

“In twelve years, I made a bunch of mistakes but I figured out, step by step, what I truly like, what I truly want to be, what will make me happy. Kyeongho may be gone but all of that stays. For twelve years, I walked by someone’s side. But he decided our lanes came at a crossroads, he continues on his but he didn’t leave me stranded. I’m not starting over, I’m just going on."

Jinyoung let the tears fall silently on his cheeks. 

And like the water beneath them reflecting the moon, he saw in his sister’s words the very conclusion that he had to reach for himself too.

He had been thrown in a panic after formulating his resolutions, as if his entire life up to that had been a complete lie and he had to shift courses drastically. That feeling was overwhelming, and cut deep : did that mean that he had lost years to his guilt and fears ?

Well, in Jiwon’s words… maybe he was just on the same track, the one that he had fought so hard to be on, but with a new perspective and new opportunities to learn about himself.

“About all the fucking hurting, I don’t know when I’ll be done with that." Jiwon snorted, grimacing. “Today though, I’ve learned that I want two things out of this mess."

She held up a finger in Jinyoung’s face, making him chuckle and stopping his crying.

“One : the chance to build something better next time. Now that I’m an actual adult, and now that I have learned so much, I think I have so many new memories to make. And everyone that I will meet with bring me a new window to try what I never could try for twelve years."

“Like you were stunted in your growth." Jinyoung understood, as he had been stunted in his too : by his own internal contradictions.

“And two." she held up the right number of fingers, before grabbing Jinyoung’s hand. “The chance to have my brother with me again."

As if every word since they had entered the pier had been drop after drop, Jinyoung was overflowing.

Overflowing with that golden rain, overflowing with soaring warmth.

Jiwon ruffled his hair, laughing softly when she saw him tearing up again, this time through a glow in his cheeks.

“You are my favourite thing about my life, and I wish it hadn’t taken one of the worst days of my life to realise that I should hold on to what is precious to me."

Jinyoung knew the feeling.

That was almost word-for-word what he had said to Bambam on the roof of his parents’ house. 

He spread his arms out. Jiwon accepted his hug without missing a beat, holding each other tightly like time did not exist and they could be their adult and childhood selves in the same instant.

“When you hung up…" Jiwon breathed out against his shoulder. “I thought I had lost you forever. When you stopped calling and texting, and I was too scared to run after you… I thought it was over. That you would never forgive me and that I had destroyed my best friendship in a childish fit of rage."

Jinyoung shook his head.

“I thought you would never talk to me again because I had hurt you." he remembered. “And I refused to let that happened."

“So you sent a whole television production to my doorstep ?" she burst out laughing

“Well, let’s say it was a lucky coinciding of different events and circumstances."

Jiwon squeezed him tighter.

“When I heard your voice on the phone when your team called… I couldn’t believe it."

“I’m sure I dazzled you with my very professional introduction. God, I could have punched myself that day."

She giggled.

“Well… I hope that in all the reasons you can come up with for why I should forgive myself, and not throw punches at my past, you’ll find your own forgiveness. And I’ll do the same."

Jinyoung nodded.

That sounded like a better resolution than whatever he had going on for the past week. 

He’d work on turning the feeling of that golden rain into the daily song of his heart. That golden rain he had found a name for… a name that sounded a lot like thank you, but not one born of fear and insecurity… a thank you from the heart, warm and electrifying… a thank you like—

“Thank you for thinking of me, Jinyoung. Thank you for sending me this show…"

From eternal punishment to eternal gratitude. Gratitude that doesn’t shackle you to those who showed you mercy, but a soaring rush of peace and excitement for all the time planes of his existence. Compassion for the past, adoration for the present, euphoria for the future.

Jinyoung had so many thanks in his heart. Thankful to himself for never giving up and earning every piece of his life, thankful to be Park Jinyoung son to his parents, thankful to have gained the friendship of such incredible people, thankful to have his crew, to have his shows, thankful for the recognition and the responsibilities bestowed upon him, thankful to the chain of decisions —impulsive and not— that had brought him to the pier, thankful to have Jiwon as a sister, thankful to have her forgiveness, thankful to exist at all —despite how arbitrary it was, at least he had a chance at making the best of it.

“Shit." he snorted. “What did Mom and Dad do to have two children who only complete each other in being bad at the same things ?"

Jiwon howled in laughter.

“That just means we might also be good at the same things. I think that’s gonna be great going forward."

The night wind wasn’t as cold as Jinyoung had expected. Maybe because his heart felt warm.

They were walking through the sleeping city, in search of a taxi. Not as easy a feat as in Seoul, granted. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to your hotel ?" Jiwon said. “It’s late, you’re closer, I can just go back home alone."

“You must be out of your mind."

Jinyoung had tried to call one, but the line had just repeated the same waiting tone for endless minutes.

“Or we could go back the hotel and ask the reception if they have a vacant room." he suggested. “I’ll pay for it. Unless you really can’t sleep outside of your apartment."

“Nah don’t worry. I’m not even sure that apartment even feels like home. We can do that, it will be easier to get to tomorrow’s shoot."

“I’ll send a driver to fetch you a change of clothes in the morning. Hopefully, Subak won’t hate me forever for keeping you away."

“He’ll be fine, I left him with my friend from work, he’s not all alone."

Jinyoung laughed to himself, imagining his sister’s dog turning his back to him every time they’d meet for the rest of their lives, as petty revenge.

“If your apartment doesn’t feel like home though, I feel like you should do something about it." Jinyoung pointed out as he showed the way towards the team’s hotel

“I know." she sighed. “I’m not sure if it’s just because of the circumstances in which I had to start living there, or if it’s part of a bigger frustration."

There wasn’t a single car on the road in the area and yet Jinyoung still stopped when the light turned red.

“It could just be a question of home decor."

“No, you know what I think it is ? For twelve years I have never really tried different things because I felt bound to the permanent fixtures of my life. And being bound to someone can also be being bound to the place where they live, where they work."

“But didn’t you study in Busan ?"

“I made the commute every day to save up on dorm fees. You don’t remember how angry I got when you took your shower before me in the morning ? Saying you’d make me late ?"

Jinyoung spit out in laughter. 

“At first I was planning to move there maybe after graduating, but when things with Kyeongho turned serious, I started looking for work here in Jinhae like him. So I never got to try living in the big city like the rest of my friends."

“Your friends aren’t in Jinhae ?"

“Most of them no. The ones from school at least, almost all of them went to Seoul or Busan, or even abroad. Now I’m in my thirties and I keep wondering what else I could have done if I had made different choices. And what I’d regret missing out on if I don’t take this new chance to reflect on it."

“Well nothing’s ever too late."

The blue neon sign of the hotel could now be seen at the end of the road they had turned towards. 

Suddenly, as seemed to be a recurring phenomenon of Jinyoung’s past two months, an impulsive thought flashed through his mind and found its way out of his lips within seconds.

“Why don’t you come to Seoul for a while ?" he blurted out, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. “Grandma would be happy to have you. You could stay with me, even just for a few weeks as a break. I mean I don’t know if you can take a leave from work, but it could be a place to start."

Jiwon hummed, swaying her head around.

“Actually…" she seemed to ponder. “I could give it a shot."

“Yeah, maybe not quit everything on a whim but at least see if you’d like it."

“I could look for a job in other places and quit if I find something exciting. I mean there are jewelries everywhere, I could try Seoul at first and if I don’t find anything, I’ll decide it wasn’t meant to be and look to the next option."

“You could end up on the other side of the planet."

“Well. Why not ? I’d like to see what Park Jiwon could accomplish when she’s unbound."

Jinyoung smiled.

Perhaps he needed that too, to not live alone for a little bit. He had his grandmother, but it was a different type of responsibility. They weren’t exactly living together, she was living with him.

Perhaps he also needed to throw balls at his own life to see how he would catch them. A chance to try new things, to live every day in full awareness, to make plans out of sheer, spontaneous thrill and to stare in the face of all the possibilities of what he could still build for himself.

Perhaps he just needed disruption. 

To find new inspiration.

Jinyoung’s trip to Jinhae would surely remain one of the key moments in the highlight reel of his life : one of those chapters that could not be skipped in his story, otherwise you wouldn’t understand how point A turned into point B. 

Jinyoung had walked into his hometown with a heavy heart, looking at every street corner with melancholy and regret. He had broken down and sewed pieces together, he had returned to old acquaintances and met people he would never forget. 

But most of all, he had accomplished his greatest duty as Park Jinyoung, the television producer, the captain of the ship : he had kept his team safe and had ensured they successfully completed their pilot show, in the best delays and conditions possible.

The fact that —through admittedly unconventional methods— he had found the keys out of his lifelong torments, that he had kept his promise to help his sister, was victory on top of victory.

Plus, if their little show came into the lives of Yongseung, Hwi, Solhee and Yuna at the right time, like it had for Jiwon, then maybe he left more good in his wake than he had set out to do.

Perhaps, the bottom line was contained in that very observation. This whole time, it might never have been about being selfish versus being selfless. Maybe becoming an adult was about losing the appeal of boxes and poles, and in never having to choosing between yourself and the others. In curing people’s hearts by curing your own, and curing your heart by curing others’.

A Peace of My Mind was about bringing a light of comfort to strangers dealing with heavy burdens and emotional loads. Bambam said it was about healing, and that what was the show had done to Jinyoung’s soul, just by standing next to a monitor. 

He was happy.

He was excited to go back to Seoul, and to visit Jinhae more often to see his family. He couldn’t wait to get to editing, to walk back into the network’s building as a man who was no longer chased around by his ghastly reflection. And yes, the biggest thrill in the face of the unknown was none other than that of coming face to face with Seo Beomjun.

Although he still had to figure out what to do about Jaebeom and the year-end award shows, he had faith that he was capable of finding a solution that didn’t betray their friendship or their respective careers.

He just was, frankly, in a really good place. 

“Jiwon." he called out when they parted ways in the hotel corridor after getting a room for her to stay the night

She turned around, hair tousled from the rollercoaster of a day they had both been through.

Jinyoung could feel his smile breaking his face.

“Thank you."

Thank you

Thank you…

thankyouthankyouthankyou

thank. you.

Perhaps that sounded like a conclusion : what could Jinyoung possibly still have to learn ? Why account for seven days when he had found his answer on day five ? 

Well.

He wasn’t as disorganised a storyteller as he made himself out to be.

This was his job, his area of expertise after all. 

There was nothing arbitrary in choosing a four-acts structure rather than the more conventional three or five.

Because the story wasn’t over yet.

He had reached the high point, but he had yet to unfold the denouement, the transcendence and the opening towards a future he had yet to write.

Act 4 out 4 — Seoul, or the requisites of being a good person.

“Jinyoung, have you ever fallen in love ?"

Filming wrapped on Wednesday at seven p.m.

The drawn, tired faces of the crew wore full smiles in the soft blue light of the sunset. Jinyoung felt his heart tingling like it was made of downy electric sparks. 

It was a sad feeling, this giddiness.

Like when a bubble burst after the wind carried it to your hands, before you could hold it close.

Jinyoung wanted to enshrine these three weeks in Jinhae in a snow globe, or in a mechanic music box, one he could always pick up and play to touch the feeling of those gone days again.

He closed his eyes, focusing on the sounds of the wind, the rustle of the gear being put back in its cases, the van engines rumbling, Mark and Eunji’s laughter as they conversed in whispers, the distant seagull that called over the faint whir of evening traffic.

The smell of rain-soaked dirt, the fresh bite of April air, the harsh light of the sun hitting the back of his sister’s unusually curled hair as she flashed a bright smile at the crew members who greeted her goodbye. 

Yes, he wanted to remember that happy feeling of saying goodbye to a time he was truly proud of.

It was always like that, after harrowing days of tireless work, the exhaustion gave way to yearning for more. That was the beauty of his job : he always got to do it again, as long as luck was on their side.

And now that he had found pride in his role, he couldn’t wait to have to start something new soon, free of the fear of failing that had choked him for years.

But for now, it was time to go home.

Jinyoung had one last dinner with his parents, his sister, Bambam, Mark, Yugyeom and Eunji before leaving.

The rest of the crew had been exhausted, and Jinyoung had promised a wrap party of Friday evening at a nice restaurant near the network building. 

“We’re gonna have to visit Seoul from time to time if both of you move there." his father commented when Jiwon shared their plan 

“So, how did this show turn out ?" his mother asked Bambam, who had already gained the title of honorary son in her eyes

Bambam had looked at Jinyoung then Eunji, with a timid, tentative smile.

“I guess we’ll have to see in editing, but I’d say we did a pretty good job ?" there was a spark in his eyes that Jinyoung had seen before, it was the fearful doubt that saying things out loud with a confident heart condemned them to never come true

“We have a lot of material, it’s gonna hard to cut three episode of fifty minutes but it’s better than having too little to work with." Eunji added, always the more focused mind

Jinyoung breathed in deeply through his nose and let his chin lift up a notch.

“We did a great job." he declared. “We did our best with the little time and means we had our disposal. And Bambam, if your goal was to show that you can handle non-comedic roles with thoughtfulness and nuance, I think you knocked it out of the park."

His show-runner dropped his head, hiding his cheeks under his hands, but not managing to conceal the blissful smile.

“Yeah, I was impressed." Mark said, patting Bambam’s back. “I thought you and Eunji had chosen issues a little too delicate, but the way they all left with those huge grins on their faces after we were done, I think we might really have something special and I can’t wait to find out what you actually said to them."

That made Jinyoung laugh. He had to lean over to explain to his parents that Mark had so many missions that he rarely was close enough to hear or see what they were filming.

“That’s because Bambam and I both have faith in the fact that if you put the bar high enough that it pushes you out of your past treaded ground, you have no other choice but to outdo yourself." Eunji retorted, defiant because that was her and Mark’s default mode of communication in public

“I think this was the most fun I ever had on set." Yugyeom said, beaming, but he was masked by the sound of the others bickering so only Jinyoung —who was sitting on his left— really heard him. “I hope it gets picked up by the network so we can do more, in less of a rush."

Jinyoung grinned at him, pausing to admire how genuinely excited their youngest looked at his own words. 

Jinyoung’s blessing was not only that he had a crew who believed in him, but also one who adored the endeavours they sailed on together.

He ruffled Yugyeom’s hair.

He should bring up the topic of a promotion on his next meeting with Jung Dongseok. 

“I think the best thing I got out of all of this" Bambam told Jinyoung at the end of dinner, when they were both reaching at the same time for their coats “is that I could know more about you."

Jinyoung, heart warm, hugged him tight, there in the hallway. 

“Thank you for believing in me." his show-runner whispered into their embrace, voice shaky with emotion. “Thank you for giving me this."

“This was my promise to you. Even when I didn’t trust myself, I had faith in you."

“When I didn’t trust myself, I trusted you. We got here together."

Jinyoung’s smile stretched over his lips, like the ghost of an old conversation.

“Because we are fated together. More than coworkers, beyond friends."

“So will you stop telling me to work with other producers, now ? Do you finally get it ?"

Jinyoung hugged him tighter.

“Yeah. Yeah, I get it."

Jinyoung’s feet lifted off the Jinhae ground to get into the van, just a few minutes before ten a.m. 

In the back seats, Bambam and Yugyeom crashed asleep as soon as they entered the highway. Mark was the driver of their vehicle, Jinyoung was sitting next to him, scrolling down all his missed texts from the morning.

“Looks like I’m not getting any break tonight." he sighed. “Everyone already wants to see me in their office."

He threw one last glance at the road sign that announced they were leaving Jinhae behind them. Jinyoung smiled. 

His heart was not heavy with the promise of being back, or with the weight of goodbye. 

The neighbours be damned. He had nothing to prove to be worthy of visiting the place that had seen him grow.

“Just tell them to fuck off." Mark recommended

Traffic ended up being kind to them. 

After one switch of drivers, they came into view of Seoul in the first hours of the afternoon. 

When the skyline appeared in the white haze of the bright weather, Jinyoung felt his heart jump in his throat. It had been over a decade since he had felt like he was gazing at a whole new world, as his eyes took in the shapes, the colours and movements of the city. 

However, this time wasn’t completely new. 

He was home.

It was just the first time that he could breathe in deeply and let those words ring through him : I’m home.

But he’d return to the resounding feelings and affirmation a little later, because it was finally time for those tangents he had put off in the previous act, as the events that had unfolded in his absence were essential in laying out the groundwork for the remaining two days of his big story.

And it all started a week exactly before their trip back home, with the Thursday when the first revamped episode of Choi Gyuri’s cooking show aired.

Jinyoung didn’t exactly have a description of the scene, because his decision to move it to an after school slot —so, late afternoon— and the fact that he was in the middle of filming, resulted in him not being in front of a television at that time.

However, he had recruited the help of Youngjae —Jackson still being in Busan that week— to keep him updated. It wasn’t really a big demand, most offices had screens connected to the network’s channels, so that various teams could monitor what was being broadcasted in real time. Technical errors were frequent, even at very high levels of production.

It’s starting now, we’re watching it in the office

Jinyoung had not seen the texts in the moment, as his phone was off to not disturb Solhee’s shoot.

The graphics look great, the new logo is pretty cute

Finally! High definition image! We have entered the twenty first century!

Gyuri’s host is still not the most exciting guy in the world but at least the guests have chemistry

kkkkkkkkkkkk they’re making a mess and the graphics team is out of control, this looks like one of your shows now, I’m half expecting Bambam to come on screen and scream

It was an absolute avalanche of notifications that greeted Jinyoung when filming wrapped that day. 

His heart had started beating uncontrollably. 

So ? What’s your verdict ? he had texted back

Well, I can’t predict what the ratings will be or if the show will escape the cutting board, but your job was to make it watchable so… mission accomplished.

Jinyoung’s heart had sunk. It wasn’t the glowing review he was hoping for. It wasn’t negative, sure, but there was no guarantee that his best efforts had been enough to save his senior’s crew from being laid off.

And there was no assurance that he could have walked back in the network’s offices to face Seo Beomjun with a victory in hand —this was before his talk with Jiwon, for context.

(‘There’s a reason why people prefer linear narratives…’ Eunji might comment, but hey, Jinyoung’s skills had been rewarded, so his messy experimentations could be forgiven, right ?)

Jinyoung, the episode aired, I’m sure you had no chance to watch it but I wanted to inform you that the broadcast went well.

That was the text he received from his boss, Jung Dongseok, immediately followed by :

I was quite pleased with the new look, I’m sure Han Wontae will be as well once I show him. Now let’s wait for the ratings. 

Fantastic. Everyone was satisfied with his part of the work. But would it suffice ?

That night, at the hotel, Jinyoung had scoured the internet for available clips and real-time comments. He never did that with his own shows, it was much too terrifying.

Wasn’t this an old show ? Did they reboot it ?

I could swear my mom used to watch this show ten years ago, is it the same ???

Haha the host can’t keep up with the guests

Is this a premiere ??

I thought this was cancelled ?

He had stayed up late into the night, scrolling down variations of the exact same comments every time. Nothing that could accurately predict the only factor that mattered in the end : numbers.

And now it was Thursday again, mere hours away from the broadcast slot of the second revamped episode.

Wanna come hide from Dongseok in my office so we can watch it together ? Youngjae had offered, in a text Jinyoung had received when they had stopped to switch drivers

Only if we’re done with the gear returns by then… Did you get any ratings yet ?

They came in this morning, I still have to process them.

The bottom line of the tangent was that, when the vans parked in front of the gigantic network building and switched off the engines, Jinyoung knew the ticking clock counting down to the final verdict had started.

“Home, sweet home." Mark groaned when Yugyeom turned the keys out and the car went silent

Their first mission was to turn back all their gear to the network’s technical department, who would inspect for damage. Translation : lots of paperwork, and all of it was Jinyoung’s responsibility.

“If anyone comes in to see me, say I can’t and I’m drowning in red tape." Jinyoung told his line producer

It was almost strange how quickly they fell back into their usual movements, as if they had never left. It shouldn’t be surprising, they had worked in that building for many years but Jinyoung still caught himself marvelling at their perfect mechanics : shutting car doors, picking up bags and cases, on the shoulders, in each hand, turning angles, upstairs, downstairs, pressing elevator buttons without looking at the numbers, flashing badges… It was as if the network was a giant microcosm where Jinyoung and his teammates embedded themselves naturally, automatically, like they were pulled by the gravitational force of a nucleus much stronger than them.

But what did that nucleus represent, really ? 

Were they moved without design, or without will ?

“Do I turn down everyone equally or are you suddenly not drowning anymore if it’s Jackson Wang ?"

Mark’s question came about half an hour into the gear return process, while Jinyoung and Yiseol were waiting for one of their tech guys to study the rain-damaged microphone pack. 

Jinyoung jumped up, startled.

“No, let him in." he breathed out

He took a few steps away, with the concern of not distracting the people doing their jobs.

Jackson appeared, in a shirt and dress shoes, standing out against the dark grey metal shelves and harsh fluorescent lighting of the storage floor, where everything smelled like plastic and everyone wore utility shoes, and their plainest clothes, those that wouldn’t make you weep if they got ripped. 

Jackson looked like the upstairs floors. 

And yet, Jinyoung could only see the discrepancies. 

Jackson was everything at once. He was the polished man in a suit that stood before him, the responsible, cool-headed journalist in his office, who was called in times of crisis, who could keep a straight-face on camera. However, Jinyoung knew him also as a man on the ground, as a reporter unafraid to be uncomfortable, to get his hands in the mud, who knew how to be close to people and show his sheer, raw truth.

In Jinyoung’s eyes, Jackson was by all means a perfect adult.

Jinyoung opened his arms and grabbed his friend’s shoulder to drag him into a hug. That seemed to startle Jackson, who was always the initiator of any such physical contact between them, because he took a few seconds before returning the embrace.

“Not too tired ?" Jackson asked, softly as they pulled back from each other after a workplace-appropriate duration of time

“Exhausted." Jinyoung mumbled, closing his eyes and mimicking a wobble as if he was about to fall asleep standing up

Jackson extended a hand, hovering behind Jinyoung’s back as if he wasn’t sure whether he would need to catch him or not.

“I hope they let me go home early." Jinyoung kept whining. “I don’t want to start meetings now, I want to go see my grandma and sleep."

“I saw her this week. Youngjae had an urgent work call so I brought her to her appointment instead. She was very happy to introduce me to her doctor."

Jinyoung grimaced.

“Oh no. If you two met it means our universe is about to collapse. And wait until I tell her Jiwon will come live with us for a while, I pray to heaven she doesn’t try to set her up with anyone she crosses paths with."

“When will that be ?"

“Few weeks from now. She has to put in some vacation days with her workplace."

Jackson nodded.

There were a few moments of silence, where Jinyoung could feel the trail of Jackson’s gaze over the lines of his face, despite the fact that his eyes were still fluttering shut and he was allowing himself to sway under the weight of his exhaustion.

“You look happier than the last time I saw you."

At those words, Jinyoung opened his eyes and looked straight at his friend’s face.

Jackson had a vague smile of his lips. 

“I am." Jinyoung responded. “At least I think I am. I feel like I am. I feel… lighter ? Don’t know if I’m fully there yet but it feels different."

Jackson’s smile grew brighter.

“You’ll get there."

At the end of the day, did Jinyoung manage to escape the horde of meeting demands that was hounding him when he was on the verge of passing out ?

Yes.

And, yes he was surprised. He got permission to send his entire team home early, as soon as they were done unloading and Jung Dongseok even insisted he should take a break.

You’re my only producer juggling four shows. he texted him. I need you in one piece tomorrow.

Ah, tomorrow. Friday, the day of the Seo Beomjun meeting. 

Jinyoung was about to be thrown right back into the lion’s mouth without hesitation. 

He would need to remember Jackson’s words, from their conversation in Busan. 

You can give him the choice to sink or swim. You can also get more people on your side.

It would have to be his new quest, now that mission Get-Bambam-A-New-Show and Apologise-To-Everyone-I-Know were well underway. This time, it was a battle of captains, of two ages, of two visions.

The one ready to sink with his boat and crew, and the one who wouldn’t even want to fight in the first place. A hero and a coward ? Or a foolish man against a voice of reason, far beyond archetypes and empty gest songs ?

Some questions remained, though : who would be on whose side, and would the sea they battled on be kind or stormy ?

This, perhaps, was Jinyoung’s true test, he thought as he crashed on the couch of his apartment.

“My poor boy, do you want me to fetch you something to eat ? Some water maybe ? You look so tired, get some sleep."

Jinyoung smiled at his grandmother as she leaned over him, feeling those tears, warm like golden rain, fill up his eyes again.

“Grandma…" he muttered. “Have I ever told you I love you ?"

“Ah you should get homesick more often."

He chuckled.

In the end, he didn’t exactly nap. He switched on the television to watch Gyuri’s show live, while drinking tea with his grandmother and telling her all about his trip. 

The show was alright, quite frankly. Easier to digest than the old version of it, the pacing had gotten much better thanks to how strict Jinyoung had been on the guest selection for the first few episodes, but there was no way to guess what future it could have. There were so many cooking shows on television, and so many programs with famous guests, if their recipe for survival was to chase after a new specific, devoted celebrity fan-club every week, Han Wontae would pull the plug at the first subpar performance. The show had not established a fanbase over its years of airing, unless it managed to build one or if the team introduced a reason for people to get attached to it, Jinyoung could not be sure that his help would give them many more years of running.

When the episode ended, he texted Youngjae, Jackson and Bambam to tell them that they could come have dinner at his place if they were free. Mostly as a thank you to Youngjae for helping his grandmother during his absence, but also because he wanted to put his friends in the same room. 

“Has it been that bad ?"

Jinyoung was finishing up the meal and setting up the table when Youngjae gave him another clue that he had missed.

“The April ratings this year are lower than those of last year." he was telling everyone, while rubbing his tired face. “Wontae is just threatening everyone including us and the analytics team. The estimates say our Q2 earnings will go under those of Q1."

“That can’t be just because of some shows in unlucky slots." Jackson argued

“It’s in big part because our calendar doesn’t hold up anymore. Q4 had strong numbers because of some star products like Midas Garden, plus a few others and the awards season, and Q1 was also saved by the tail end of Midas Garden’s last season. The fiction products have not performed as well as expected in the past few months. I keep telling Wontae it’s only April and we have until June for final Q2 numbers but he won’t listen."

“How’s Jaebeom’s show doing ?" Jinyoung asked, putting down plates in front of his seated friends

“Pretty well, honestly, considering it’s novelty material. His ratings were up a point this week since the last."

Bambam was silent, twirling the water in his glass. Jinyoung could tell he was listening, though, as he kept worrying his lip whenever Youngjae started talking.

“I think he’s going to announce a massive reshuffling of the Content department’s editorial line and schedule." Youngjae said, looking down at the table. “I think he’s gonna announce it mid-June, just before the summer schedule starts, and it will be effective in September."

“What does that mean ?" Bambam asked, looking around with fearful eyes. “Is he going to fire people ?"

“He’s going to redistribute budget and cut all projects that he doesn’t see bringing in a profit in the future." Jinyoung guessed. “Which technically means he’s gonna start green-lighting some new material, but only a few programs to keep a limited window of failure."

“Exactly." Youngjae confirmed. “Which means that the coming months are going to be lethal."

Jackson glanced at Jinyoung, with a tense face. 

Jinyoung bit his lip, breathing in slowly.

“Not you though." Youngjae reassured Bambam with a pat on the arm, because the poor boy looked like he was about to melt. “You and Jinyoung are safe, you have the number one show in the network. I think Jaebeom and Go Somin’s teams should also not get cut. Everybody else… who’s to say."

Jinyoung untied his apron, slipping out of it and throwing it on the kitchen counter.

“I hate this." he mumbled. “I’ll go get my grandma, I’ll be right back."

Jinyoung knew the microcosm he was a part of was not some sort of fantasy land, where the law was art for the sake of art and it’s okay to not succeed all the time, we’re only human. They were a factory of dreams and comforting moments, but they were an industry as well, and both of these things had unreconcilable aspects, no matter how well they could coexist.

And the world was changing, traditional networks like his were facing unprecedented shifts in their audiences and found themselves chasing after new ideas to keep up, everything to not be buried under the dust of time. 

However, it became increasingly clear to him that a lot of these new ideas were not sized for human beings, for the people who worked in that incredibly lucrative factory. 

Jinyoung was a producer, of course he understood the basic rule of not following will-o-the-wisps right into the treacherous holes of bankruptcy. Throwing money at endeavours with no chance of getting anywhere, just for the sake of not being cruel or unfair, was not how their industry thrived. Yet, he couldn’t help but wish he could grab as many people from the oncoming tide, to put them to safety on his ship. 

But that as another fantasy he had to let go of.

Was that what being an adult was ?

Accepting that some things were just tragic and unfair, and that they would always be ? Taking the world for how ugly it was, without trying to fight against the wind in vain, when you stood no chance. 

Resignation, was that the currency of the adult world ? Was that why Jinyoung didn’t feel like one, because he was still fighting dragons in his head ?

“I’m sure they brought me down there because they had to save face." Jackson was saying when Jinyoung came back to the kitchen with his grandmother. “These things happen all the time but they close their eyes until someone from the public calls them out."

“The bribes and conflicts of interest ?" Jinyoung remembered from his friend’s defeated observation in Busan

“Man." Youngjae sighed. “I wish it was easy as saying it’s our network that sucks, but we all know it’s like that everywhere."

Bambam’s face had grown bleaker in the few seconds Jinyoung had left the room. He didn’t like that expression, so he extended his hand above the table to put on Bambam’s own.

He had no words to offer, though.

Just a touch of hands.

Jinyoung was not some mythical hero. He only had his crew, he had to keep them in mind and stay focused on that, not send their ship through the storm to save wrecks that had crashed on the rocks. 

However, there was a little voice deep within his heart that tugged at him. 

He had a kind of power he had dreamed to possess for over a decade. It would be somewhat sad to not even… study the options ? Maybe he would reach the same hopeless conclusion, or maybe he would make the tiniest little difference. 

Was he being childish ?

“I’m gonna see Seo Beomjun tomorrow." Jinyoung announced later, when all four of them had gathered on the balcony, under the secret light of his buzzing lamp

The conversation had long shifted back to happier topics, under the impulse of Jinyoung’s grandmother who believed wallowing in your dark thoughts around a meal poisoned the food one put in their body. Therefore, Bambam had taken it upon himself to recount every detail of their stay in Jinhae, making Jackson and Youngjae laugh heartily.

There were three pairs of eyes on him in the soft darkness. All with different glimmer reflected in them.

Bambam seemed concerned. He had obviously been present during Jinyoung’s last conversation with his senior, he even had to save him from it when a not-so-veiled insult had slipped from his lips. Jinyoung had not really expanded over the details, as Bambam was very occupied with his nerves and his show, but his show-runner was a smart and observant friend, who had not missed the pleas behind Jinyoung’s nighttime whispers of being capable of destroying Beomjun’s career.

Youngjae had been present during every single meeting, he had been a first-hand witness to their senior’s hostility and unwillingness to cooperate. However, Jinyoung had greatly minimised how sharp those words cut, not wanting to worry his friend who was already in a delicate position, and could certainly not pick sides. 

And Jackson, well… He had not seen any of it, he had taken Jinyoung’s word for it, but he knew all of his feelings inside out. He was the only one he had told about the haunting dinner he had shared with Beomjun, and that unforgiving observation : You know what normal people do in your position, Park Jinyoung ?

“Are you going to apologise ?" Youngjae asked. “Bury the hatchet ?"

“People have been telling me for over a month that he’s gonna come around but he hasn’t. How much longer should I wait ? The summer reports are barely two months away now."

He turned his gaze to Jackson.

“Sink or swim ? »

His friend did not respond right away. 

The air was fresh at this hour, it had probably rained earlier that week, the balcony still smelled like it.

“What do you want to do ?" Jackson replied

“Swim." there was no other option in Jinyoung’s book. “If it was me, I’d want all the help I could get."

Youngjae shot him a glance that carried the weight of a torn man. Jinyoung gave him a small smile.

“I know you can’t take sides. It’s alright." 

“As a friend, I’m with you. I do think he’s being unreasonable, and I don’t know if he’s stalling on purpose to make you miss the deadline or if he’s just stubborn but I don’t see this ending well."

Jinyoung frowned.

“If you don’t meet the deadline" Youngjae clarified “he’s going to hit the cutting board straight ahead."

“So if I give up on him… ?"

“You’ll disappoint Dongseok who promised the higher ups you could do it, but you wouldn’t change Beomjun’s fate. The only way you can save his show is if he lets you or Dongseok gives you full authority."

Well… then Jinyoung had a sword in his hand. A heavy one, he had to wield it carefully.

“Is there anything I can help with ?" Bambam asked, with a pout

Jinyoung rested his head on his friend’s shoulders, patting his back.

“Right now I don’t even know what I can truly help with…" he sighed. “But I’m just happy I have you. All three of you."

And that was how Jinyoung got to the sixth day. 

The first Friday back in Seoul.

He arrived at the network’s building a little earlier than he typically would. He knew he wouldn’t find many people yet, but this was part of his strategy. His meeting with Seo Beomjun was at ten, he had a bunch of other boxes to tick before that.

Number one : the PR obligations of getting on your boss’ good side.

Number two : strategy meeting with his team.

Number three : find Choi Gyuri. 

Getting to work early was therefore the smart thing to do.

He knocked on Dongseok’s office door after dashing straight out of the elevator. The break room was probably empty at this hour, he’d find the time to greet his colleagues later.

“Come in." 

Jinyoung was welcomed by the heady smell of coffee. He had no idea if it was just from what his boss had been drinking in the morning or if it was time to open the windows this week, so he chose to ignore it. 

“Ah Jinyoung !" Dongseok exclaimed. “Welcome back."

“Thank you, sir. And thank you for giving us some rest time yesterday."

“I told you, you’re much too needed for me to let you crumble into pieces."

Jinyoung nodded, pushing away the flaws he could have pointed out in that particular statement. He was here to complete a plan, he had to stay on track.

“I brought you something from Jinhae." he announced, pulling out a box from the bakery he had discovered a few weeks before. “For allowing us to leave at such a delicate time. I hope it’s still fresh, we bought it yesterday morning."

It was cherry blossom bread, easy to find around the spring festival season.

“How did it go ?" Dongseok invited Jinyoung to sit down with a gesture, accepting the box with a delighted smile. “Wontae was very intrigued when I said you and Bambam were working on something new."

“We have good material. We’re going to start editing the pilot possibilities and see if we really have something."

“When do you think you’ll have it ready to show ?"

Jinyoung urged his face to remain impassible. It would be a little suspicious perhaps, to let it show so soon.

“June." he said in an assured tone. “It will be done before summer."

Dongseok hummed in approval, reaching into the box to try one of the flower-shaped breads.

“It’s a little more… serious than Bambam’s previous material." Jinyoung warned, scanning his boss’ face carefully. “I feel like I shouldn’t let that be a surprise, if Han Wontae expects comedy."

Dongseok’s eyebrows shot up, a curious spark lighting up his eyes.

“How serious are we talking ? You know investigative reporting is not our department’s line."

“No, it’s more in the idea of… prestige television. There’s nothing like it currently on air."

“Prestige ? Bambam wants to try prestige at such a young age ?"

“He’s the youngest show-runner in the business at the moment, of course he’s always going to be ahead of the curve." Jinyoung’s smile couldn’t be refrained from rising up to his cheeks. “I think he could truly make his mark for a long time, given the proper opportunities and support."

As long as he keeps bringing in the money…

Jinyoung’s heart sank at his own thought. 

Perhaps that was also part of being an adult : realising that your childhood dreams turned into cold, artless realities.

“About Seo Beomjun." he swerved quickly, trying to push the sour feeling away. “What if he still won’t hear me out today ?"

Dongseok chewed slowly, holding Jinyoung’s gaze. It was absolutely daunting, the silent seconds of waiting for a word to be spoken. For a sentence to be passed.

“Then I’ll have to agree with Wontae that there was no hope for him."

Hope was an interesting term.

It was fuel for life like no other, but it was a merciless finality if it wasn’t granted, not even in the realm of your wildest fantasies. 

Jinyoung had sometimes wondered, who held the book of hope ? Who signed off on who should keep it and who should give it up ? 

Was there even such a thing as a definite sentence ?

Was hope perhaps just an inalienable right, that no one could truly take away for good unless you accepted it ? What did it mean to be hopeless ?

Jinyoung took a deep breath.

Choi Gyuri was standing in front of the coffee machine by the elevator, rummaging frenetically through her wallet. 

He squeezed his fists tight. 

Was it the adult thing to do, to let go of hope ? 

“Here."

He smiled warmly, holding a couple of coins.

Gyuri stilled, glancing between the money in Jinyoung’s hand and his face.

“Oh, thank you." she finally accepted. “I can’t believe they make us pay for this when we work here."

“You can make your own in the break room."

“It’s a capsule thing, I don’t like those, they don’t agree with me."

Jinyoung chuckled.

“Yeah. It took me a while to understood how it worked." 

The sound of coins dropping in the slot and the strident activation of the machine filled up the air between them. Jinyoung leaned against the metal door of the elevator.

“I heard the show has been getting good first reviews." Jinyoung said, in a soft voice. “I wanted to congratulate you."

Gyuri seemed to purposefully keep her gaze away from his general direction, staring at the bar on the screen of the machine, that indicated the progress of her coffee’s brewing.

“You mean you came to gloat." she scoffed

“Why would I ? It’s your show. Its future is only dependent on you."

She bit her lip, still not looking at him. 

“Anyways." he sighed. “Congratulations, I hope it keeps having a very long life. From the bottom of my heart."

He made to turn around, deciding there was no use in trying to get her on this side, when he felt a hand grabbing his wrist.

He stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening as they fell back towards his senior.

She closed her eyes, breathing in slowly.

“You’re friends with Jaebeom, aren’t you ?"

Jinyoung nodded, a little lost.

“Why did they ask you and not him ? I’ve worked with him before, it would have made more sense."

Jinyoung grimaced.

“Honestly, I don’t have the answer to that."

“I’ll tell you why. From what I observed about you, Park Jinyoung, you’re only a producer, not your own show-runner."

“That’s correct…?"

It wasn’t meant to sound like a question, Jinyoung knew what he was, but he could not even catch a glimpse of the picture in her mind.

“This business is all about ego, and yet you choose to take a step back and share your spotlight. And because of that step back, you get a better view on everyone, you can look at problems without the tunnel-vision we all have on our own benefit."

Jinyoung frowned.

What ?

“If my show gets more years of life…" she uttered through her teeth. “I’ll have you to thank for."

Jinyoung bit his lips.

This should be an incredible victory… and yet…

“With all due respect…" he smiled politely. “I don’t think that’s why. I have my own ego, and I worry about the benefit of my team. I wanted to help you as well as I could because I was hoping that you and your crew might get a better chance than being cut off suddenly."

He almost instantly regretted speaking, and yet, Gyuri laughed. Not a joyful laughter, rather the kind of bitter cackle of someone who was proven right.

“I have ego, I worry about the benefit of my team he says." she mumbled. “I hope you know that if our roles were reversed, no producer called in to save you would have seen any benefit in saving your team. Maybe if you have some good elements, they might even covet them for themselves."

Jinyoung rolled his eyes. He had been back from Jinhae for less than twenty-four hours and yet he had only heard the darkest conclusions from everyone about their microcosm. 

Did that mean that Jinyoung was the only child locked out of a world of adults who had lifted off the veil from the deceptive fantasy they had all shared at some point ?

Jinyoung shook his head, scrunching his nose.

“I don’t believe that." he laughed. “You are a veteran in this industry and you have seen many things, which means I am probably just a naive rookie for saying this, but I truly think that we’re all in the same boat. We all understand each other in ways no one else can. Sinking one of our own would never be in our interest. If we keep poisoning our own industry with this, we might kill it in the long run. I’d like to take a chance on the dream I know you had too."

He pushed himself up to stand straight.

“Thank you for accepting my help. I hope whatever I could do will make a difference, at least, since I’m afraid my second mission will fail before I can even get it off the ground."

He bowed as a goodbye, and retreated back towards his office.

Meeting in the writer’s room, Type A. he quickly texted Mark

The last thing he saw, as his senior took her coffee from the machine, was the small smile she shot him.

June.

The month of the summer reports, the end of the second quarter and the year-half. It was one of the most important times in the life of their network, in the microcosm. Summer was usually quite slow in programming, as audiences weren’t home as much to turn on the TV. 

It was the finishing line for the big shows planned for the fall, and the second semester, where the only thing that was ever brought up was the next year.

Jinyoung really had to be thankful to his team. What he had asked of them with those three weeks of shooting the pilot was not little, because June was also the time when the Midas Garden new season was supposed to start filming. 

Luckily, only Jinyoung and Bambam were required to keep up throughout all the editing and post-production process, but the weights they were about to juggle for the next month and a half were not light.

That thought had been whirling in Jinyoung’s mind all night, after saying goodbye to his friends.

It had all been because of a line Jackson had casually thrown out as they were waiting for a taxi.

“It’s nice to be this many." he had joked, looking at the four of them standing in a circle. “More brains to think things through and more shoulders to share the burdens."

More brains and more shoulders.

Jinyoung had almost lost all sleep with just those words.

“So." Jinyoung’s voice sounded clear and steady in the writers’ room where he had gathered all four core elements of his team. “You’ve all been working overtime for a month now so first of all, I think you should can take next week off before we start going full speed on Midas Garden prep."

“And when are you taking time off ?" Eunji pointed out, raising her eyebrows

“I’ll take some days in May when my sister moves here. And we all have at least one week in June before the shoot, so don’t worry I’ll be okay."

He pulled out his phone, where he had written down a couple notes during the night.

“Right now the editing team is processing all the data we sent them, I’ll go check on them later today. I saw Dongseok this morning and the deadline for sending the pilot for approval should be mid-June. This way we will know before we start the summer shoots if we have a second show to prep."

“How are we going to fit the shooting schedules together ?" Mark asked. “That would mean that every time one show goes on hiatus, we get right back into filming the other. Would that be sustainable ?"

Jinyoung tapped his screen, where he had typed the exact same question that night.

“Hence why this meeting. I need to submit two things to a vote with all of you."

He grabbed a pen and walked to the whiteboard to draw a long arrow cut by several little dashes, trying to represent a year divided in months.

“I told Dongseok that the vibe we were going for fit pretty well with a prestige model." he explained, drawing a long thick line over the months of fall and winter, next to the initials M.G. “And if you really think about it, this could work to our advantage since the subject matters could get pretty heavy and we all saw that shooting so fast barely allowed us to scrape the surface."

“You mean we wouldn’t air one episode a week." Bambam guessed

“If we go for an ‘event’ type of broadcast it would allow us to space out our filming time and editing deadlines, to make the episodes perhaps a little longer so we can touch on more things, and to not exhaust our momentum with the audience. It’s a little riskier because it would also spread out ratings and make the build up of an audience a lot slower, so probably the only way Wontae would allow us to have that is if we have one hell of a good show."

To illustrate his point, he drew smaller thick dashes, distributed evenly in small packets along the year line.

“Scarcity is a good marketing tool." Eunji agreed. “The rarer the event, the more people tune in, but if we don’t live up to expectations."

She scrunched up her nose, furrowing her brows as if her whole face was retreating into herself to think deeper.

“If that’s what we sell to Han Wontae, we could start by telling him we’re not signing up for a whole season but for a pack of four episodes."

Jinyoung nodded animatedly.

He turned to Bambam.

“It’s your show, would that work for you ? I’m trying to put all our chances on our side."

Bambam took a deep breath, staring at the drawing on the board.

“I think it could work." he muttered. “But on one condition : only if the pilot is good. If we don’t have the material to demand that confidently, we scrap it for now and try again later."

Jinyoung looked around at his team, opening his hands to silently ask for other opinions.

“I’m down for it." Eunji said, glancing at Mark, who nodded as she spoke

Yugyeom also gave two thumbs up with a bright smile.

“Well." Jinyoung coughed. “This brings us to the second issue we have to prepare for before June hits, which is can the Midas Garden team handle two simultaneous shows or is it cruel to ask that of them ?"

The four pairs of eyes darted on him remained still for a few seconds, as Jinyoung watched the information rise up to their brains.

“You want to expand the team ?" Mark realised

“If the show gets approved, we’re gonna have to. It’s that or overworking everyone. I already know that if this and the year-end thing get confirmed, I’m not getting any sleep until New Year’s Eve, but I’m not pulling anyone down with me."

“What year-end thing ?"

“Erm, nothing currently confirmed. So ? What do you guys say ?"

More brains and more shoulders.

Jinyoung had no idea if it was the foolishly naive thing to do, but it would keep plaguing his mind if he didn’t try to offer his hand out to the people being swept up by the oncoming wave.

He might not even get the permission to do so by his higher-ups, but he had some leverage to at least attempt it. 

“It’s reasonable." Yugyeom said, tentatively since no one had spoken up yet. “This might only be the beginning of something big, we can’t get caught by surprise if we want to make the best out of it."

That made Jinyoung’s face break into a large smile.

“The beginning of something big." he repeated. “You think so ?"

Their youngest looked at Mark, as if checking for his confirmation, cheeks getting redder and redder.

“I mean, it seems like we might be going to whole new places, right ?"

Mark looked at Eunji, who looked at Bambam, who looked like he was about to explode under the sheer scope of what Jinyoung was suggesting.

Because, of course, it wasn’t just a little factual team expansion. It was the sign of things getting much, much bigger than they had ever been before.

They had done shows together, with little runs, sometimes only one season before it was passed down to someone else. Midas Garden was their first stable, renewable program, and only three years after finally reaching that coveted point in their careers, they were trying to make a new move. A daunting move.

“Okay." Bambam breathed out. “If we get the show approved, let’s make a bigger team."

Jinyoung beamed victoriously.

“We’re actually gonna have to start doing some recruiting now." he warned. “Kim Yugyeom."

Their youngest jumped, eyes widening as if he dreaded the words that might come next.

“If you decide to accept my offer of taking the week off, you might want to enjoy today as the last of you being an assistant producer. I formally asked Dongseok to approve your promotion, it will take a couple days to go through but from now on you and Mark are the two heads of one team."

There was a shriek —that, unexpectedly, came from Mark because Yugyeom was frozen in place— before the room erupted in cheers, Bambam and Eunji shooting up from their seats to go hug their youngest.

“You’re… Are you serious ?" Yugyeom grinned

“As serious as the fact that I am now going to have to put out the urgent notice that we’re looking for two assistant members to join the crew before June. There must be a lesson here somewhere about impulsive decisions, but it matters more that you deserve this."

They would celebrate properly at the wrap party, but now Jinyoung had to face the storm, in his meeting with Seo Beomjun. 

But as he had learned in Jinhae, he was a capable producer, a good captain, who thrived best when he put faith in his teammates. 

The plan he had come up with, that had finally allowed him to go to sleep after so much tossing around in his own head, was as simple as that : bet everything on his biggest strengths. Now, obviously, he did not lose sight of the fact that his weakness might be his wide-eyed hope that there was still a good future in their microcosm, but Jinyoung had a few months ahead of him before turning thirty he could use as an excuse to try the way of a childlike heart.

He could not save the world, but he was damn sure not going to give up on it.

“Ah. He’s back. About time."

Jinyoung resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his senior right from the moment he walked into the meeting room.

He had arrived with a smile on his face, a first for him, greeting everyone warmly.

“You looked like you came back from vacation, not filming." Youngjae would quip later that day

“I’m very sorry for my absence last week." Jinyoung said, looking right into Seo Beomjun’s eyes as he uttered one of those words in particular. “I hope it didn’t cause a setback, with the deadline approaching fast." another pointed look at his senior to underline that. “I’ll work twice as hard today to catch us up."

Jung Dongseok and Han Wontae laughed, Jinyoung sat in front of Beomjun and his head writer, Youngjae right into his line of sight.

His hands were shaking under the table but he smiled brightly.

“So. I reviewed the notes of our last session." the notes in question being the memory of Beomjun’s demeaning remarks that burned hotly in his brain. “The thing that keeps sticking out from the data provided by Youngjae, is that the show is not able to reach the audience that would enjoy it the most."

“Again ?" Beomjun groaned. “Did you not listen to anything I said last time ?"

Jinyoung rose his hand to halt his senior’s rant.

“Loud and clear. You don’t want to move slots, you don’t want to change your audience reach, you don’t want any changes, end of the story. No time to go there again, if we want to move forward, let’s get to the point. Hence why I turn to you, sir." 

He looked at Han Wontae, who seemed a little taken aback by the direct address, as he glanced at Dongseok to check who Jinyoung was really staring at.

The other person whose face dropped in surprise was Seo Beomjun himself. This was no longer a tug of war where him and Jinyoung were the only two points. Now there was a third element, the man who could end everyone’s careers, forming an angle between them.

“It’s mid-April." Jinyoung reminded his boss. “The deadline is the summer reports, at the end of June. At the pace we’re going, I’m afraid that leaves us very little time to produce results to give faith in the renewal of the show. Youngjae, how much data would you need to give a definite opinion ?"

“At the very, very least a month of performance." his friend confirmed, stone-faced in his role as the voice of network interests

“That leaves us two weeks, then ?"

“We could have three but that would put us in a very tight spot in case of any unexpected delays."

“Two weeks."

Jinyoung turned his gaze back to Han Wontae.

“At our current pace, we will never have an applicable direction for the show. So I believe we have to clearly define what the network wants."

“Are you threatening me ?" Beomjun exclaimed

“I’m not threatening anyone, I’m clarifying the objectives. If they’re very important, maybe the smartest option is to consider a deadline extension."

For the first time since they had been forced into the same room week after week, Jinyoung saw his senior’s face blanch as he looked at the higher-ups, who had all their attention focused on the case Jinyoung was making.

The only bigger shark is Han Wontae, Jackson had told him back in Busan.

Jinyoung was betting everything on this strategy. 

It was “sink or swim" but under a much different light. Beomjun could use his seniority to push Jinyoung around, to proudly block all his attempts at helping, but he could certainly not keep up the act in front of Wontae.

That was what Jinyoung had truly reviewed : just how many times his senior had dismissed him on the basis of their difference in experience, forgetting that they stood exactly at the same authority in title. In practice, however… Jinyoung had an advantage. 

“Youngjae, do you have the data on our revenue from the show ?" Wontae asked

Beomjun froze.

Jinyoung glanced at him, keeping his face impassible.

Youngjae handed their boss the documents. Wontae started reading them carefully.

The silence lasted long minutes. 

It was so quiet that Jinyoung could hear his senior’s breathing getting uneven, and the show’s head writer’s nervous munching of the pen he had trapped between his teeth.

Jinyoung wasn’t sweating, but he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. 

“How much more would the show bring us if we let it continue ?" Wontae’s voice sounded like knives grinding on the iciness of the room

“It depends on the direction we take." Youngjae answered. “At the current rate, without making any changes and without a miracle, a rough estimate would be that the revenue graph will keep going down."

Ah. The death sentence of the corporate world. 

“Which means that our interest in renewing the show will also keep going down." Wontae concluded. “So, make your case for why I should bother granting an extension to a doomed project."

Beomjun shared a look with his writer, who just shook his head.

Jinyoung swallowed back a grin. It wasn’t so easy to claim artistic superiority in front of the man who represented the exact opposite, and also not as easy to bully your boss compared to the juniors in the company.

“Here’s my proposal." Jinyoung decided to throw the adversary team a buoy. “Let’s skip next Friday’s meeting and go right to the next. That leaves you two weeks to prepare a plan to submit for your show’s future. You can decide to call for my help or to do it alone. If in two weeks, Youngjae estimates it’s a viable direction and if Mr Han approves the idea, then we’ll demand a deadline extension."

Dongseok nodded enthusiastically. Wontae was a little more contained as he silently signalled his agreement. 

“Two weeks."

Sink or swim.

“Park Jinyoung !"

The roar of his name followed him on his way back to his office.

Jinyoung turned around to face the person stomping towards him in fury.

“Park Jinyoung, you bastard, what do you think you’re doing ?"

Jinyoung grimaced when one of his colleagues, Go Somin, walked past him and Beomjun right in that moment, face falling as she heard the insult.

“Diplomatic incident." Jinyoung mumbled to himself before his senior finally reached him. “I am not doing anything. I’m busy and I can’t waste my time with your game of cat and mouse, sir. I will be deeply sorry if your show gets cancelled, but for the sake of my team, I can’t lose all my energy on hopeless fights."

Beomjun’s face grew redder, Jinyoung was doing a terrible job at appeasing him. 

“I hope you’re not superstitious, Park Jinyoung. Because I will curse you for as long as we breathe the same air in this building. I hope someone comes along one day and does to you what you did to me."

“What did I do to you ?" Jinyoung’s patience was wearing so thin he had to tighten his fists to hold back everything he wanted to retort. “They called me to give your show one last chance because you’re a valued producer in our network, I did not choose this and I sure as hell did not play any part in your show being in trouble in the first place."

Beomjun walked closer. He was all up in Jinyoung’s face, trying to intimidate him, but Jinyoung was taller and an expert at putting on a poker face.

“Listen to me, kiddo." he spat. “Don’t think you won. I won’t ask for your help, and if my show gets cancelled two weeks from now, don’t pop the champagne. It will be a victory for me. I have the narrative on my side. Who doesn’t like the story of a passionate artist being sabotaged by the young wolves of corporate greed ?"

Jinyoung scoffed.

“You’d sacrifice your team to get revenge over me, who hasn’t done anything to you ? I sincerely apologise for offending you when I brought up your background, but what kind of producer do you think you are if you’d let the people you’ve worked with for years get laid off for the sake of sabotage ?"

“Oh don’t act high and mighty now. You don’t care about my team."

“If your show gets cut, who’s to say when or if you’ll get the green light for another one ? You suffered one cancellation this year already, you’re about to take away their safest source of revenue and they’ll barely have enough notice to start looking for other opportunities quickly. Do you not care because you’ve never been through that or because you can’t fathom what it must be like ?"

Jinyoung’s head was getting hot with how fast he was losing his composure. He had to breathe deeply…

“I’ll tell you what that’s like." he said, clenching his teeth. “It’s a waking nightmare that follows you even you’re on safe ground. It devours every inch of your mind until you can’t breathe. It leaves you struggling to just stay afloat. You had things to say about my apologies, and I accept them, but if your pride deliberately throws into that nightmare the people who have given time and effort to your success, I hope you’ll have the decency to beg on your knees for their forgiveness."

With that, as he could no longer hold himself back from spitting in his senior’s face, Jinyoung turned around to go back to his initial goal.

“I will destroy you, Park Jinyoung. Remember that."

“Try to not destroy your own legacy first."

Technically, Jinyoung’s plan had worked, he had managed to get the big sharks on his side, yet he was left with an unpleasant, metallic taste in his mouth.

Something that followed him through the evening’s wrap party, as he congratulated and cheered everyone for their hard work in the past weeks. 

“Should I just have sunk him ?" he asked Jackson as they drank together, a little late in the night

He had invited his friend to join the party after telling him all about the day’s events. Jackson had been elaborating at lunch about what he had shared with Jinyoung a few days before, how he was questioning everything he was doing.

As Jinyoung had expected, it had to do with how his trip to Busan had uncovered a fracture that left him doubting the value of his profession.

“I’m a reporter, I’m a journalist." he had explained. “I feel like I’m losing bits of my soul the more I’m told to care about interests, advertisers, partners… I feel like I’m not investigating stories anymore, I market them."

Jinyoung had tried to reassure him, but the truth was that he was grappling with similar feelings in his own conflict with Seo Beomjun. They were agents of an art form, who had to fold to the mechanics of their corporation when the art no longer drew financial benefits.

“Just because we must recognise that everything is a for-profit industry doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t stand up to excesses." he had claimed, feeling his heart drop at his own idealistic worldview

“I know… but at this point I don’t know what other choice I have. It’s either quit, swallow my pride, or pray for the network to get interested in long-running investigative reporting shows so I can leave the news desk."

Jinyoung’s options weren’t less dire. 

“You did the right thing." Jackson said softly, finishing his glass. “You don’t have it in your heart to sink someone down to prove a point. And that’s a good thing."

“But it’s not very genuine that I did it to not be a bad person. I still made him sweat."

“Are you trying to find perfect solutions in an imperfect world ? You tried to save his show and his crew, you’re not getting one cent of money for doing that. Put your mind at rest."

Maybe, but Jinyoung was definitely gaining favours from his higher ups that would benefit him in his career later on.

“What if he’s right ?" he breathed out. “What if, one day, someone comes and does the same thing to me ?"

“Define the ‘thing’. Sabotage ? You didn’t sabotage him. Help you ? That would be a nice thing actually."

“I think he meant the fact that I cornered him in this two-week ultimatum."

“What would have been the nicer thing to do, then ? Letting him insult you every Friday and get you exhausted, just to reach the same result of his show getting cancelled ? You put both of you out of your misery, you’re just doing the reasonable adult thing."

Ah.

The adult thing.

“I don’t think I have earned the right to call myself that." he mumbled

“What ?"

“An adult. A real one."

Jackson rose his eyebrows, staring at Jinyoung in disbelief. 

“Then, what would you be ?"

Jinyoung shrugged, feeling his cheeks heating up.

“A grown-up teenager."

Jackson rolled his eyes, grabbing Jinyoung’s shoulder to bring him closer, so he had no choice but to look straight at his face.

“The only thing that defines an adult, child or a teenager is your age. And the development maturity of your brain to some extent. You’re twenty-nine, Jinyoung, you are an adult by all stretches of the definition."

“But I don’t feel like one ! Not yet, not a real one. Not one who can call himself that."

Jackson tilted his head to the right, still so close to Jinyoung’s face that he could only stare at his stoic face.

“You know why you don’t feel like one, Jinyoung ?" Jackson said, in a voice so assured that Jinyoung trembled. “It’s because you're always so fucking harsh on yourself. You have set such high expectations that you could never clear your own bar. How cruel is that ?"

That was nothing short of a sucker punch to Jinyoung’s gut. He frowned, shaking his head in protest but Jackson interrupted him before he could get a word out.

“What are you gonna say ? That to be a real adult you have to know what you’re doing all the time ? Know how to handle situations before you’re even thrust into them ? You have to have your shit and your schedule together ? You have to be fine sacrificing everything except the serious and jaded aspects of life ? Is that what you think a real adult is ?"

Jinyoung pushed his friend away lightly, dropping his head to look at something else than those eyes who could read him a little too well.

“But look at you." he sighed. “You’re good at being an adult, you know the answer to every question."

“That’s called being a smart-ass, I was the same at thirteen. Just a little more plain in my reasonings."

“But you know how to take care of people and yourself."

“Jinyoung. We’re not doing this again. You’ve been living alone for twelve years and you’ve been caring for your grandmother, you know that, you’re just trying to contradict me."

“Jackson, I’m not being silly, I really feel that way."

Jackson let out a heavy sigh, then brought his hands to the sides of Jinyoung’s head.

“Riddle me this. When you see people, day-to-day, how many times do you tell yourself oh this person really can’t call themselves an adult, they have no idea what they’re doing, they don’t have their life together, they made a mistake here when they could have done this, they dropped the ball on this, they should have known better… Or do you exclusively reserve that lens of criticism for yourself ?"

Jinyoung opened his mouth, speechless. He wanted to shake his head and argue but… 

“Are you the only person around you who you don’t think is worthy of the title of adult ?"

Jinyoung shut his mouth closed. That seemed to be enough for Jackson, as he released Jinyoung’s face to pour them both another drink.

“You have a child’s definition of an adult." he sentenced. “You’re just being impossibly harsh on yourself because you’re making stuff up as you go, and trying your best. But everyone is doing that. As children we think adulthood is the finish line, we stop school so we stop learning so now we should just check the boxes of what we’ve come to expect, but that’s not what life is. Being an adult is just learning more and more, without teachers or schools, it’s trying and failing and exploring options until you actualise yourself, it’s constantly evolving and seeking new knowledge about yourself and the world. Adulthood is never-ending growth, even though your height is fixed."

Jinyoung bit his lip, lowering his head. 

It should be quite clear why this was the sixth day in his count, as was becoming increasingly limpid to him in that moment what the crescendo was leading up to.

“You know what the difference is between the mind of an adult and that of a teenager ?" Jackson had a surprisingly soft smile on his face as he looked at Jinyoung with warm eyes. “The capacity for nuance. And to look at life and the things that surround you in their largest scope, rather than focusing on the very present year, the very present moment, the very present problem that feels like your whole world if you don’t have any perspective."

He raised his hand to Jinyoung’s hair, giving it an affectionate pat.

“You’re an adult, Jinyoung." his smile grew larger. “You’re doing your best and you’re learning, an even lower bar would still make you an adult worthy of that name. Don’t be too cruel with yourself."

Jinyoung let his head fall on Jackson’s shoulder, closing his eyes to take in the warmth against his cheek.

His sister too had said he should find forgiveness for himself in the kindness he had for her. Perhaps that was the whole lesson, that Jinyoung was one of those people who needed to be told to treat themselves like they treated others, more than the opposite. 

Jinyoung had to just recognise he had been working hard, falling and getting back up, trying his best for twelve years on his own. It was true to say it was unfair to assess it as not good enough yet.

“So do you think that it’s not childish to hope there’s still a way to make our world a little better ?" he whispered into Jackson’s shoulder. “You with your news desk, me with the department overhaul."

“I don’t think childish is the word. But whatever it is, I think I should learn it."

Jinyoung chuckled.

“Really ? You’ll learn from me ?"

“Yeah. Why does that surprise you ? You’re one hell of a role model to have."

“Even though I don’t always know what I’m doing ?"

“Most of the time, even when your solutions are clumsy, when you’re in doubt you resort to finding what works best for everyone around you. I don’t know that many people like that, certainly not at work."

Just like his sister had showed him… There were people who went through the same things with the same coping mechanisms, who could learn with each other, and then there were those who could see in others the mirror of the things that would help with unsatisfying aspects of their lives, who could learn from each other.

Jinyoung had so much to learn from Jackson. To be frank, he was probably the one Jinyoung drew the most from, the person he wanted to resemble the most.

Hearing him say that there was value in learning from himself too made his smile shoot to the stars.

“You have a good heart, Jinyoung. I like your heart. It would make me so happy to see you devote as much space in it to yourself as you give to me."

Jinyoung grabbed Jackson’s hand to hold it close to his chest. It was a little surreal, with the noise of the celebration around them in the restaurant, them being in their corner, but Jinyoung cherished moments like these. Above everything, he cherished Jackson, and the fact that he had someone so precious in his life, the simple fact that he had the opportunity to love someone so much.

“I promise I’ll try my best." he said

Day seven, would be the next day, right ? Or at least within the following week, so as to not spread out the count that had started fourteen days prior already…

Well no, Jinyoung did not have issues with a time jump. Mind you, it wasn’t a really big one, it was just two weeks.

Yes, those two weeks.

It was the last Thursday of April, one day before the final deadline for Beomjun’s show, and also the day of Jiwon coming to Seoul —which meant Jinyoung had taken days off the week after.

He wasn’t one to take breaks unless he was forced to, something he had understood he needed to change, but this was quite a loaded period of work. They had started to prepare filming for the new season, all the while editing the three pilots, which meant every day was a continuous flow of meetings, phone calls, schedule updates and screenings. Not to mention the new team members recruiting process. Jinyoung was beyond thankful that Seo Beomjun had not called for his help, allowing him to have all his focus on his team.

He had decided to put a few cards on his side. The biggest idea he patted himself for was that he had put the remnants of the unexpected expenses budget towards post-production, making him able to employ three editors, one for each episode.

That Thursday, actually, Jinyoung was alone in the editing room, clicking, hitting keys, rewinding, huffing to himself, when someone knocked on the door.

“Can I come in or is this top secret ?"

Jinyoung’s head snapped up, to meet a friendly face smiling down at him.

“No, come in, come in." he told Jaebeom. “I’ll take your opinion."

“Where’s your editor ? Are you working overtime ?"

Jaebeom sat down next to him, looking at the screen as Jinyoung kept rewinding by hitting the same key repeatedly. He was watching the episode with his sister, which was progressing well, but he was bothered by the pacing of the cuts.

“He went for lunch." Jinyoung said. “I’m just reviewing a few things I’m not satisfied with. Congratulations, by the way, I heard the show was a success."

Jaebeom smiled proudly, swaying in his chair.

“It was. I think it’s thanks to your great promotion plan."

Jinyoung laughed, remembering how worried he had been over that coffee bet.

He stopped rewinding when he reached the beginning of the scene, the one they had shot under the rain, and hit play.

“Oh that’s a nice shot." Jaebeom commented about the lightning hitting and the cameramen managing to keep Jiwon and Bambam stable in frame as they all ran from the downpour 

Jinyoung nodded frenetically.

“I told them to keep that in. Our subject kept smiling during the whole scene, I thought that made it more striking."

“I probably would have done the same."

Jinyoung kept watching in silence, as the conversation unfolded in the sheltered area, with the soothing sound of the rain in the background that created a bubble in the scene that Jinyoung really liked, despite the fact that the editing was too fast. 

“I heard Seo Beomjun is giving you a hard time. Are you okay ?"

Jaebeom’s voice was tentative, unsure, as if he was walking a thin rope.

Jinyoung finally tore his eyes away from the screen to look at his friend, who had a worried spark in his eyes, still visible in the dark room.

“Who told you ?" Jinyoung frowned

“Everyone knows. The new look of Gyuri’s show made people talk."

“I’m just doing what the big boss asks."

“If it helps, everyone thinks he’s being an asshole. We all know why his other show is getting a graveyard slot for its reruns."

Jinyoung took a deep breath.

He wasn’t planning to have this conversation so soon, but who else could he have it with ?

He hit pause.

Turning his chair towards Jaebeom, Jinyoung felt his face morph into a stone serious expression.

“Have you heard about Han Wontae potentially overhauling the whole department ?"

Jaebeom fell back in his chair with a loud sigh.

“I’ve been feeling it coming." he admitted. “Every time I see Youngjae, he looks like he brings bad news."

Jinyoung bit his lip.

He dreaded the answer to his next question a little…

“And what do you think about it ?"

Jaebeom sighed again, his head leaning backwards.

“I think I might have to move on to more mainstream things." he lamented. “If they cut down on spending and strictly select shows that are sure to turn a profit, I might have a harder time pitching my ideas. It might be time to try my hand at your shtick after all."

They shared a small chuckle.

“For my shtick to work, you need a Bambam." Jinyoung reminded him. “You’re both PD and show-runner, you should take advantage of the strengths it gives you."

“What about you ? Does it worry you at all ?"

“It gave me a little too much food for thought."

He grimaced saying those words : it was a glaring euphemism, he had been obsessively looking for a way to lessen the damage the tidal wave was about to make.

“I have an offer for you." he blurted out

Jaebeom straightened up, looking at him with a curious raise of brows.

“You’re a friend to me and a colleague I admire." Jinyoung detailed. “I’m grateful that we always stood shoulder to shoulder in our setbacks, and that there was never any mean spirit behind our competitions. I think we’ve been fighting the same battles by ourselves for so long that we never took time to look at the bigger picture."

No, it wasn’t just the probability of overhaul that had made Jinyoung run laps in his own brain for two weeks, it was also his conversation with Jackson. Scratch that, it was all the conversations he had been having since day one : with Jackson, several times, but also with his parents, with Bambam, with Eunji, with Yugyeom, with Jiwon, with Yuna, and even with the little boy Hwi. 

There were patterns, definitely, in all the lessons those days had taught him. Jinyoung was starting to see them, to make out the conclusion it had been leading up to. He wanted to put his theory into practice now, he was itching to see if he had gotten it right.

And those words were his starting point : the bigger picture.

“If you and I stay in this network" he continued, his voice getting higher just as his heart pounded louder, “give it a few years and we will no longer be the youngest producers around. You, me and Somin according to Youngjae, will be tomorrow’s seniors and I think it’s time to take that future into our hands willingly. To shape it instead of letting someone else’s flow drag us along."

“Are you planning a revolution ?" Jaebeom laughed, looking a little confused

“No, no, no !" Jinyoung waved his hands around. “Or maybe, but not like that. I’m just saying… this overhaul is being presented like a grim fatality, but if we join forces we might have a chance to shift the tide in a direction that doesn’t drown as many people."

Jaebeom seemed to finally tune in to Jinyoung’s brainwaves because he squinted, locking his hands behind his head.

“Do we actually have any power to do that ?" he hummed

“I think we do, if we’re patient enough and don’t burn the wicks too soon. But the first requirement is for us to decide to take that in our hands. We might not have much power yet, but we have some leverage. If we’re smart, that will make as much of a difference as we can."

Jaebeom breathed in deeply, his face scrunched up in thought.

“Where would we start ?" he asked

“We’re not supposed to know anything about the overhaul, so we start by observing our surroundings and paying attention to how people feel. Ah, and also by the year-end awards shows."

Jaebeom shot up on his seat at that.

“What about them ?"

“You heard you might make the list." Jinyoung recalled. “I also heard I’d get a recommendation. However if I get two shows to run, adding that might be a lot on my shoulders. If you get the job, you get it. But if I get it, I’ll ask Dongseok if we can produce it together. You and I."

Jaebeom’s eyes grew tenfold.

“Are you serious ?"

“Yes. I want to work with you. I want to see what you and I can do when we join forces."

Without a moment of hesitation, his friend smacked their hands together to seal the deal. 

“Let’s take our future into our hands."

Jinyoung smiled.

That was the bigger picture.

He had sworn to himself he would be a good captain, and in that definition he counted being able to picture how large the sea was, how the wind and the currents could work as allies and adversaries alike, how to map out the stars… how to guide the ship and his crew beyond just surviving the elements of their immediate surroundings. As Jackson had put it : the scope.

The scope was the microcosm. 

This giant entity they all fit into, that sometimes seemed to control every single move they made, and where many chose to fight just to get a little more power over the other pieces.

In the past two weeks of ruminating on everything the trip to Jinhae had opened his eyes on, Jinyoung had finally realised how the microcosm really functioned.

It was a lot like nature, as he saw it. There was no hierarchy, they were not wheels in a clock’s mechanics or workers in a hive : it was mutualism. They were not attached to the network to the point where leaving it just meant death, the system gave them what they needed to grow and in return they made the network flourish. 

However, this symbiosis was masked by the illusion that all of them bought, including the network itself. The illusion that the microcosm could survive without the pieces that composed it, while they had no other choice besides clinging to the system for dear life. 

That was why the overhaul news were so grim : if Han Wontae went about the wrong way, there was a possibility to disrupt the symbiosis completely. While Jinyoung understood the necessity to address poor results, as it also played a part in the survival of their network, he worried that the higher ups might shoot themselves in the foot accidentally with simple mistakes.

Han Wontae and everyone of that rank were not the network itself, they were pieces of it much like Jinyoung. Much like Seo Beomjun, who did not realise that he was preventing his own growth, along with the microcosm’s, by fighting the need to evolve. 

All of them were pulled by the gravitational force of the same heavy nucleus. 

Jinyoung had also finally uncovered what that was. 

At the core of everything, what linked all of them, and made them move willingly, beyond any control or submission to the system they were embedded in… was television. 

Television, this useless, unnecessary craft that was theirs. 

Or, as Jinyoung would put it once he clearly laid out his seven-days count : their skeleton.

The world had been turning long before their factory of dreams and comfort entered anyone’s life, the entertainment that could turn into diversion in the wrong hands, their art form that could soothe or swallow down in the same gesture. Their drive, perhaps illusory at times, to make a difference with the stories they told.

They truly all were on the same boat, blowing holes in the floor to undermine one another, despite the fact that everyone stood on the ground together. Jinyoung understood that now, the only way to save the microcosm was to hold on to the symbiosis and to the heart of all things.

Because, when he had put all the patterns together to paint the overall picture, Jinyoung had discovered that life was a lot like television, a lot like the craft he had devoted most of his years to…

“Hey, Jaebeom, you wouldn’t be interested in pitching an investigative reporting show by any chance ?"

Jinyoung had always believed he was not good enough, not good for much, nothing special.

But how did he explain that someone who wasn’t good enough could rise up the ranks and be rewarded, recognised, entrusted with responsibilities by his peers ? If you had asked him a month ago… well by now, you could guess what he’d have said.

The conclusion Jinyoung drew from those seven days was that he was obsessively chasing after that notion of good, to the point where he couldn’t even appreciate his victory and peacefully love the people who mattered to him.

How could he be a captain worthy of that name, was he a good producer, a good son, a good brother, a good friend, a good adult, a good person, was he good ? 

There was no escaping from that spiral as long as made it his priority.

Jinyoung wanted to be a good person. He wanted to be a good producer, a good friend, a good son… But those were not statuses, those were ongoing, dynamic processes. He was working on being good, and his shortcomings were nothing more than indications of the margin for growth he had ahead of him. It didn’t mean he wasn’t already good enough, just that there was still so much he could discover about the world and himself, so why make absolute, definite sentences out of fleeting moments, that had passed long before he’d start overthinking ?

That was why life was a lot like his craft.

The conclusion was rarely in sight, there was always infinite potential for new challenges and experiments. He had compared himself to a movie character so many times, without realising that movies were confined pieces of time, with set beats that life did not come with. Fiction was organised. Life wrote itself as one went along with it, exactly like Jinyoung’s craft always needed to leave space for happy accidents and unexpected goldmines, to exist besides the careful plans and determined editorial visions. 

“Are you leaving already ?" Eunji asked, looking up from her spreadsheet of confirmed show guests

“Not yet." Jinyoung smiled, putting his bag down on his chair. “I’m just picking stuff up to review at home next week."

Bambam also peeked from behind his laptop.

“Did you see we got a letter from Hwi and his father ?" he said, pointing at a drawing on the table

Jinyoung took the paper to make out the words more clearly. Under the colourful sketch of ducks at the pond, next to two stick figures with the names HWI and PARK PD attached to them, written in shaky letters, he found the note : wait for me hyung, I will be as good as you one day !

Jinyoung smiled.

He had received an email from Yuna a few days earlier that had warmed up his heart just like that too. 

Hello Mister Park, you gave me your contact info so I hope you won’t regret this.

I wanted to write to you cause I’m a little bit excited, Solhee and I went to the park today. We played with badminton rackets and got to pet the dogs that were taking walks. I know if this was my parents or hers, they’d say it’s not much of anything at all, but I know you’ll understand what this means to me. No matter how long this takes, I think we both have a chance to be happy one day. And so do you (I hope everything went well with your sister).

I’ll write again if I come around Seoul…

When he had read that, with tears welling up in his eyes, he had immediately texted Jackson.

Maybe I can believe you now, he had typed. Maybe I can believe I’m a good person already.

Knocks on the door shook him out of his fond memories.

“Excuse me." the person asked Eunji, who was the first person you noticed once you slipped your head through the door. “Is Park Jinyoung here ?"

“Behind the door." she said with a nod in his direction

“Oh, I’m sorry."

The person clumsily pushed the door so he could see Jinyoung standing there, with eyebrows raised questioningly. 

He recognised him immediately, it was Seo Beomjun’s head-writer. The name escaped him however—

“I’m Yoo Taesik." the writer supplied, holding out his hand for Jinyoung to shake. “I hope you remember me…"

He was sweating buckets. He looked pretty young, Jinyoung would guess he was in his late thirties. He hadn’t paid much attention to him during their meetings, as his senior colleague had been hogging all of his mental space. 

“You’re here about the deadline tomorrow ?" Jinyoung inquired, showing his guest that he could sit down if he wanted

The writer nodded frenetically, slouching down with pleading eyes.

“You have to make him see reason." he begged, a little breathless. “We will be doomed tomorrow."

Jinyoung sighed, sitting down as well.

“I’m afraid I did all I could do."

“There has to be a way. You have to talk to him."

Jinyoung rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He turned to Eunji and Bambam, his other two teammates being outside making phone call after phone call to prepare the logistical aspects of filming. 

“When does one decide something is truly hopeless ?" Jinyoung asked them

Bambam was the first to meet his gaze, with a stern grimace.

“You’re allowed to give up on this guy." he scoffed. “He’s been treating you like crap for months, you don’t owe him anything."

Eunji, perhaps out of compassion for someone of her same profession, stared at the writer carefully. She drummed her fingers on her keyboard.

“I think it’s only hopeless when everyone decides it is." she said. “One person is enough to hope. When there’s only so little you can do, there’s still so much you can try."

Jinyoung nodded. 

He got up from his chair, waved at his teammates to let them know he’d be back quickly, and was out of the door in seconds. It took Yoo Taesik a little while to understand what he was doing and to catch up to him. 

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you." he breathed out in relief, jogging behind him

Jinyoung reached the door of his senior’s writing room, knocking sharply.

“… might be the last show you ever get in this network, you can’t ignore that—" someone was saying behind the door, cutting themselves off when they heard Jinyoung

When he was invited to walk in, he found two pairs of eyes darting towards him. Seo Beomjun’s and Choi Gyuri’s.

He gulped slightly, straightening up his spine.

“I came to tell you that no matter what happens tomorrow, I’ll try my best to still demand a deadline extension for your show." he announced. “You were given too little time for a question this delicate, I think it’s only fair that way."

He barely took a minute to take in how drained his senior’s face looked, with dark circles under his eyes. He motioned to close the door again to leave, when…

“Park Jinyoung."

He froze.

“I’m tempted to ask you if you’re just trying to paint yourself as some kind of saint, but any normal person would have turned into vengeful evil at this point."

Jinyoung frowned.

“With all due respect, sir, you have a questionable definition of any normal person. This is not the first time I notice it." 

Choi Gyuri cackled at that, slapping Beomjun’s limp shoulder. He just looked so tired.

“I keep telling him." she snickered. “He has to get in with the times."

Ah. Jinyoung could see through it, finally.

Seo Beomjun wasn’t much different from what Jinyoung had dreaded to become. Stuck in a moment, refusing to change, unable to evolve and shed his old, burdened skin. Sinking. 

For all the insults and restless nights his senior had hurled at him, Jinyoung could scour the darkest corners of his heart, yet find no hatred for the crumbling man in front of him.

To him, he looked like a poor soul desperately kicking and punching the water to stay afloat, because he had never learned to swim. If it only took one person who believed in a way out to save someone from being condemned to hopelessness, then Jinyoung would be the one to at least offer his hand.

“I don’t want to pass for a saint." he spoke up again. “I just think it would be tragic if months of poor financial performance made the network sacrifice their artistic variety in favour of slashing and cutting and sticking to the walls. I don’t want our future to be uninspired, I truly believe that the network would be compromising our biggest strengths. A show can fail, it happens, sometimes all it takes is a new skin and a fresh start to give it a better chance. The time we had would never have been enough, but I’m serious when I say it’s worth doing all we can to make it a channel’s staple. There is no one here with a show like yours, and we would lose something by cancelling it."

Beomjun looked away, towards the window. Choi Gyuri met Jinyoung’s gaze, sighing and patting her colleague’s shoulder.

“The kid is not a miracle worker." she told him in a resigned voice. “But he’s from the same world as us. He’s not Han Wontae, he’s not a distributor or a marketing executive, he wants the same thing we do. It’s just that this world has changed, and he understands the new challenges more than we do. We’ve been here longer but he is here now."

Jinyoung bit back a smile at her words. She didn’t seem happy about what she was saying, but he supposed she had chosen reason over pride.

“I never had a mentor." he continued. “I’ve been doing this on my own with no one to guide me. I would love to have the opportunity to learn from you as we work together on this, if you’re okay with learning from me too."

Jinyoung’s heart was hammering against the bones of his chest. A month before, those words would have never left his mouth. They would not even have crossed his mind. 

Like Jiwon had said, he wasn’t starting over, he was not a whole new person… he was growing, and changing. Continuing. He quite liked it actually, despite the fact that it had felt like being tumbled around constantly.

Seo Beomjun could still say no. Slam the door and call him a bastard again, Jinyoung would accept that outcome. 

“He’s fighting the same fight, Beomjun." Gyuri insisted. “Our work will not survive if we keep putting poison in our common ground."

Jinyoung recognised his own words, from his conversation with her at the coffee machine. It seemed as if there was value in Jinyoung speaking his mind after all —not by blurting out remarks about his seniors’ family connexions in the industry obviously.

Jinyoung look at the man in front of him.

He was ready to take a step back and leave the room.

He was not holding his breath, just waiting.

Until, Beomjun rose his hand from his lap to grab the chair next to his and push it back.

The corners of Jinyoung’s lips bolted up.

He took the invitation to sit, letting his senior show him the screen of what he had been working on so far.

As Jinyoung scrolled to catch up with the plan so far, at the corner of his eyes, he saw the two older producers exchange nods. 

He kept smiling to himself. This might not be the guarantee of a final victory, but it was Jinyoung’s bet winning. He had chosen a vision of his craft, of his industry, of the people around him and his relationship to them, he had taken a leap of faith in his search of good.

“I’m proud of you." Jackson told him later, when Jinyoung had recounted the whole story on their way to the bus stop. “Did he apologise ?"

“No." Jinyoung chuckled. “But it’s not out of the realm of possibilities. I’ll keep hoping, maybe he needs time."

They shared a laugh together, bumping their shoulders. Jinyoung felt like he was floating on a cloud, his cheeks were numb from smiling so much.

“Your sister will be here for a bit." Jackson realised. “That means we won’t see each other much, especially if you have days off next week."

“Jiwon has friends in Seoul, I don’t have to be the only person entertaining her."

He swung his arm around to bring Jackson closer, holding him by the shoulders.

“I’ll tell you what. Let’s meet on Sunday."

Jackson smiled softly.

“Your house or mine ?"

“How about anywhere else ? We never go places outside of work. Isn’t this a good time to hang out at the river park ?"

Jackson’s smile slowly grew, as he shook his head in approval. 

“Let’s meet there then."

Jinyoung arrived home with that same happy, cloudy feeling buzzing around his head.

At the foot of his building, he recognised a car that had his heart racing to run up the stairs as quickly as he could. When he swung the door open, he found his grandmother on the sofa, chatting cheerfully with a barefaced Jiwon, who was wearing sweatpants and her hair in a relaxed bun. A sleepy Subak was lazing under a chair, softly snoring.

Their laughs made the whole apartment come alive, and Jinyoung’s body fill up with warm light.

“Jinyoung !" his sister exclaimed, getting up and running to hug him

He dropped his bag to catch in his arms and hold her tight. Seoul had never felt more like home.

“I’m so happy." he sighed that evening, as him and Jiwon sat on the balcony after helping her set up for a few weeks. “I can’t believe I just said that."

Jiwon grinned at him.

“I’m happy too. I’m excited to try out new things."

“Do you have a list already ?"

“You know organising thoughts has always been your thing more than mine. I think I’m gonna wing it and see what comes when it comes."

Jinyoung hummed in approval, letting his forehead rest against the metal fence of the balcony. He had expected it to feel cold against his skin, but spring was starting to turn sweet now.

He had one item on his list, actually. He had taken some time during the past weeks to make phone calls in order to find something for his father. He had a couple options and he was waiting for his sister to join him so he could show her.

He heard Jiwon sigh next to him.

“The only thing I’m nervous to try is dating again." she confessed, looking up at the darkening sky. “I haven’t done it in so long and I’m in my thirties now…"

Jinyoung didn’t really have an answer to that. He was planning to let her pour her heart out when she suddenly gasped.

“Will it be okay for you ?" she asked in an exaggerated tone. “Will it not be too awkward if your dates want to see your home and you have to say sorry my grandmother and my sister live with me ?"

Jinyoung’s features contorted in a face he could not describe : he was going through a flurry of emotions from confusion to horror as he was hit with the thought that—

“Wait. Come to think of it… I don’t think I remember you ever talking about dating anyone ?"

Jinyoung grimaced, before letting out a dry laugh.

He had no answer to that. 

It was the plain truth. 

Jiwon looked at him with wide, amused eyes.

“Did you really never date since you moved to Seoul ?" she asked, with no malice in her question. “Jinyoung, have you ever fallen in love ?"

He shook his head slowly.

“Did you never meet anyone or did you not find any appeal in it ?" 

Jinyoung was scraping at the furthest corners of his memory, for at least one flash of a name or a face, or a single instance when the thought of asking someone out on a date had crossed his mind. 

“I think…" he sighed “I’ve been so laser-focused on my career only that I have never even allowed my mind to entertain the idea." 

Jiwon hummed in understanding. 

Jinyoung glanced at the buzzing light that enveloped their conversation, the very same object that had been witness to his most vulnerable moments with the people he loved.

“I would have blamed myself too harshly if I had taken any second away from work." he reflected out loud. “And the risk of dating at work when it turns messy would have also been a huge no. I don’t think I could have ever felt like I deserved to let someone waste their love on me when I only realised last month that I wasn’t some sort of worthless imposter." 

Jiwon sent him a small smile. She also let her head rest against the metal bars of the balcony.

“If it’s something you’d like to explore, it’s never too late." she promised him. “You can have your first date at thirty, there’s no rule against it." 

Jinyoung snorted.

“I don’t even think I know what it would look like." he muttered through his teeth

He had people he loved with so much energy that he could feel every element that composed his body light up with a power output comparable to several Suns. Was this enough for them, especially his friends, to be the loves of his life ? Was he incapable of those feelings that drove the romance plots of the novels and TV shows he consumed ? 

“What’s the difference between romantic and platonic love ?" he asked out of the blue, his spine jerking up like he had received a shock from the metal bars

“None." 

Jinyoung rose his eyebrows at his sister. 

That was impossible, right ? 

There was a reason why millennia of vivid, passionate poetry had been written about lovers, but not about the simple friends you were quite intensely close to.

“There’s differences in the relationships, but the love is same. It’s love." Jiwon clarified. “Even within relationships, there isn’t just one blueprint that has to be adopted by everyone. Love is love, how you love the people you want to love depends on where you are, who you are, at what stage of your life you are… It’s not a codified definition." 

She sighed.

“I’ve followed the most traditional idea of a romantic relationship for twelve years of my life. I was happy in the moment, but now it makes me wonder about what else there is to discover, you know ?" 

Jinyoung nodded pensively. 

If love was love, then was it the nature of the steps they took together that differentiated Jiwon’s relationship with her ex and Jinyoung’s with his friends, like Jackson or Bambam ? He could picture himself growing old by the side of the people he cherished, he had always heard that being thrown around as a hint that you loved someone, but surely that couldn’t be all it took ?

For close to thirty years, he had never devoted one thought to the matter, so Jinyoung felt like he was staring down the barrel of a deep, inscrutable ravine. 

Kang Yongseung had a speech to make about his beloved Ahyeon, and how he knew he loved her. He was limpid about it. Jinyoung's clarity about his loves was closer to how confusing Mark and Eunji's relationship was. Was that love ? Officially, they were just really intimate friends who spent time together outside of work, just like Jinyoung with Jackson or Bambam, and even Youngjae. However, it always felt like MarkandEunji was an entity with a heart of its own. Their shared friendship heightened them individually, even to the eyes of the people around them.

“You could give it a try ?" Jiwon smiled. “Try to go on a date and see if the idea fits you. And if it doesn’t, then you can go on to explore other horizons." 

Jinyoung pondered for a bit. What if he realised the only way he could love someone was through this all-encompassing platonic devotion ? Would he hurt other people in the process ?

“Where would I start ?" he asked, what did he have to lose after all ?

“Well. If you don’t have hobbies or large circles of friends who can put your name out there, you can try online apps. The first thing though is that you need to look beyond your apartment and your work office for forums of socialisation." 

“Hey." Jinyoung protested. “I invited Jackson to hang out at the river this weekend, so shut up."

 Jiwon stared at him, eyes fixed on his face as the ghost of an odd smile appeared over her lips.

“What ?" Jinyoung groaned

“Nothing." she laughed. “I just think it’s exciting that you get to enter your thirties with so many new things to learn and realise. You’re gonna have the time of your life." 

Jinyoung decided he would deploy efforts to decipher what she meant some other day, as the conversation was starting to fill him with an acute sensation of vertigo.

After trying for the past few weeks to let go of his obsession with being good all around, he couldn’t jump straight back into a new fixation on being perfect at love. He had to take it with curiosity and with the thrill of discovery, otherwise all the fun would get drained out of his infinite chances to grow.

Because, as the stars in the sky seemed to whisper to him, Jinyoung might the captain of a specific crew, but he was also a man of sailing by nature, even without the groups and titles he was attached to. He had seas to roam with his people, but also by himself. 

So, as one exploration reached its end, and the curtain prepared to close over the four-act rollout of his voyage through a part of his mind, Jinyoung faced the open ocean.

A world of new directions to map out, of corners of himself to learn about. Storms and unfriendly waters could not sink him, that he knew now, and as long as he kept sailing with an enthusiastic heart, then he could not even stagnate.

This was not the resolution. That, he had reached earlier when he had realised there was no failure in being in-progress, rather than fully formed perfect like a factory-produced device. 

No. This was the opening up.

If life was a lot like Jinyoung’s craft, seemingly endless until it ended, infinite until it finished, then how could there ever be a foreseeable conclusion ? A definitive answer, exhaustive, with no room for wonder or mystery ?

No, it simply couldn’t happen. There could only be the promise for more.

Jinyoung knew there was more.

He had found answers to one question, now he had a million other ones to solve. He had to structure each voyage with a beginning and an end, for the sake of communicating effectively to whoever would want him to share his adventures, but as he turned this page, he would open another right away.

Oh the seas he would sail…

The tales he would come back with…

He had a few ideas of where to point his compass to start from, but then he would have to trust the wind to guide him. 

Jinyoung caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass of the lamp. Long gone was the ghastly, haunted face that used to look back and chase him around the network building. These were the bright eyes and peaceful smile of a person who knew deep in his heart that there was no journey more exciting, no odyssey worthier of being recounted, no poem more epic than the unwritten future of his own life.

This was not the end.

Perhaps… just a mere cliffhanger.