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You’ve been training for about 5 years now and damn, is it tiring. When you came to Seoul, you knew what you were getting into. Having read and watched a lot on the life of trainees, you knew. You had to because it was the only way to convince your parents who weren't the most eager to have their child live this life. It was only after you had shown them how much you knew and how prepared you were did they, although begrudgingly and still hesitant, let you. ('Call me every week, okay?' Your mother said as you were about to step out the door. 'Yes, of course.' You replied casually, as if you were just going on a field trip.)
But despite all the research, you weren't prepared for how tired you'd become through training. School in the morning until afternoon, training until 1am or later (it was almost always later), schoolwork until school starts and maybe a nap in between all of that. At first, you were okay with it. It was even exciting. When your classmates would ask you if you were free after school, you always replied that you were going to training with a smile on your face. To you, this was just another hurdle in your path to becoming the performer you always wanted to become. This would pass, eventually. Or it was supposed to pass. Your fresh faced self was strong but apparently, it wasn't strong enough. As years of uncertainty and waiting in the dark passed, leaving the industry was getting more and more appealing.
You had come to the decision to leave after being told your debut would have to be delayed again. This was the third time your manager had come in with a sullen face and asked you and your group mates to sit down. Some investors backed out last minute and the remaining funds were only enough to have a song produced. It couldn't cover the album cover shoot, the music video, and the music show performances. Your heart was broken but you didn't blame your manager or your CEO. You blamed no one, really. It was understandable. The company that recruited you was small. The artists they managed barely got through to the general public. These artists' futures were already so unsure. To debut another group with a feeble hope they would succeed was foolish and irresponsible. Debuting was expensive and they were already so kind to you. They covered your school, food, and dorm fees. From an outsider's perspective, you were better off than so many other trainees.
And yet, the announcement hurt all the same. There was no other way to describe it. It just hurt. You constantly pushed yourself to the extremes, mentally and physically. You did your best, trying to keep yourself together. To be a good student and trainee. But, for what? What was all this heartbreak for? To have your debut delayed again? Ask anyone from your company, whether it be your manager or your label mates, and they'd describe you as patient. And you thought you were patient. Patient enough to wait for your turn. But after working this hard, without any assurance this hard work was going to get you anywhere, you weren't the same. The repeated agony of waiting and only to find out it was for nothing, it changes someone.
Sitting in the practice room, you decided your life in this industry was finally over. Eventually, you brought out your phone and scrolled through your photo gallery. You smiled as you went through pictures of you and label mates. Pictures of your group mate fallen asleep in the middle of trying to change into their sleepwear, pictures of you and them hanging out at a cafe. At one point, you stopped as you saw one of the oldest pictures in your library. It was a picture of you, 5 years ago, when you had first joined the company. Standing beside the logo of the company, you pointed to it excitedly. You remember thinking to yourself, I'm going to send this to Mom. The longer you stared at it, the more you could feel the tears pool in your eyes. After a while, you turned off your phone and just cried.
You cried over the heartbreak of another delayed debut, cried over the constant pressure from your family to succeed, and cried over the realization that your dreams just weren't meant to be. Not only were you letting down everyone who had believed in you, you were letting down the wide eyed 17 year old who came to Seoul who was hell bent on becoming a performer. When you started, you promised yourself you wouldn't give up on your dream. No matter how difficult things may seem. But this was too much. As heartbreaking as it was to do this, you had to give up. No one should be expected to persist for this long and not burn out. Maybe some people had a greater will than you but they were an exception. The amount of pain trainees face shouldn't be the norm.
The sound of your crying drowned out the sound of the door opening. Only when you felt someone's arms wrapped around you, did you realize someone came in. You wanted to look up and see who it was but they wrapped you tightly into a hug. Focusing on the sound of their heartbeat, you stopped crying and soon fell asleep in their arms.
An hour later, you woke up. Still in the same person's arms but the grip loosened, allowing you to see who it was. It was Seokmin. He also fell asleep while holding and was still sleeping. You could feel another wave of tears hit, just thinking about how thankful you were to have him in your life. But before it could get any worse, he started to wake, probably feeling your movements when you woke up. His eyes opened and he just looked at you bleary eyed but with love, evident in his gaze. He smiled at you and wiped away your tears.
"Come here," he said before pulling you in for another hug. With your face resting on his chest, you opened your mouth to speak.
"Jiwoon came in and told us-" he shushed you before you could finish. He placed a comforting hand on your back, rubbing it.
"I know, he told me."
His reply just confirmed that last night wasn't a nightmare. The debut was delayed without a clear date. And by the look of it, you were going to be stuck in a cycle of constant disappointment forever if you don't leave. It felt like your heart was breaking all over again. You looked down, avoiding his face when you spoke again. Quieter.
"I don't think I can do this anymore, Seokmin."
He tilted his head to the side.
"Do what?"
"I don't think I can wait anymore. I can't keep studying and training without any sign that I'll actually be able to debut. I thought I was patient enough but..."
"But what?"
"I'm so tired." Your voice broke and you cried once more into his shoulder. He rubbed your back again, in an attempt to calm you down. When you stopped and your breathing went back to normal, he spoke.
"If you want to leave, then you can." You looked up to him, confused. He made it sound so easy. With any other person you've brought up leaving the industry to, they looked at you like you had said something wrong. Why waste your work? The way he replied made it seem like you had just overanalyzed. Maybe you did.
"I thought you'd say something like, don't give up or you just need a break or don't waste all the work you've put into this." He laughed.
"Why would I? It's your life." When he says this, he covers your hands in his.
"I mean, didn't Seungcheol and Jihoon wait longer than me?" He shifts his sitting position and brings you even in closer.
“Well, yeah. But they’re not making the decision here. You are. If you end up waiting, I’ll support you all the way. If you leave, I'll support you wherever you go.”
You tried to look into his eyes for any sign of uncertainty but found none. You kissed him briefly on the lips.
“I love you.” He smiles after hearing that.
“I love you too," He moves to stand up and once he was up, he extended his hand to you. "Now, do you wanna get food?”