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Dongju never noticed the shadow looming over him when he was young. It was inconsequential, nothing major. He was just a little quiet, that’s all, a little more unassuming. Dongmyeong filled up those gaps; as twins they were opposites, and made up one entire person. Dongju always felt at ease with his brother, his other half. There was no reason for him to feel out of place or for him to feel small. This was his life, and Dongmyeong was his brother, and it was all he ever knew.
Even when their mother stopped dressing them the same, the feeling of being identical stayed strong. Everything they did they did together. They sat in the same classrooms, had the same friends. Their laughs were the same with matching smiles. Just because their faces weren’t perfectly identical it didn’t mean that they were completely different either. Only in the small ways; in everything that mattered, Dongju felt confidence, in his young heart, that they were as close to identical as two humans could be.
And maybe Dongmyeong was always a bit more musical, a bit more charming. But Dongju didn’t mind. Just like how Dongmyeong didn’t mind that Dongju was a little softer, a little more off key. They sing together in tandem, as Dongmyeong and Dongju, Dongmyeong’s fingers only just learning how to play the keys of the keyboard.
Somewhere along the years they meet Giwook, a young musician close to them in age. He’s a little soft, stumbling over the word hyung, but he fits in right away. Dongmyeong takes to him immediately, his head finding Giwook’s shoulder instantly and constantly. Dongju bites his tongue, too young to know if it’s Giwook’s attention he craves or his brother’s undivided devotion; he’s too young to understand that it’s attention he needs at all. But Giwook’s fingers strum the strings of his bass while the twins sing, Dongmyeong’s fingers a little more confident, a little more adept at hitting the keys of his keyboard.
They’re in middle school when Dongju finally notices the shadow he’s been living in his entire life. Giwook comes crashing into their house, out of breath and excited. Dongju sits to the side as Giwook takes Dongmyeong’s hands, explaining frantically about the hyungs he met at his school, how talented they were and how they wanted to start a band. They needed someone to play the keyboard, and someone to sing. Dongju watches as his twin’s eyes light up as he agrees. Dongju bites his tongue and thinks bitterly that Giwook had only wanted to be around Dongmyeong, that Dongju might as well not have been in the room at all. Dongju decides, cruelly, that he hates Giwook.
Dongmyeong becomes more distant, spending all of his free time with his band. Dongju finds himself lonely and bored. He stares absent mindedly at his art supplies, at the books of music theory on the shelf. All things that Dongmyeong loves. And Dongju finds himself wondering if he would have ever liked these activities at all if he had been born a sole son instead of the lesser half of a set.
MAS 0094 does better than anticipated. They haven’t hit it big, but it’s better than anyone ever thought they would do. They’re able to release songs, film music videos, and they get minor television appearances. Dongmyeong becomes Mr. Popular at school because of it, and Dongju is pushed to the back.
On the nights when Dongmyeong isn’t totally exhausted from practice or activities, he slides into bed beside Dongju. The younger notes that even now, after all the years they’ve been alive, they still fit perfectly next to each other, like they’re still in the womb. Dongmyeong talks animatedly about Giwook, about Harin and Hyunggu, and Yongwoon who joins them last. Dongju listens quietly, not knowing where he fits in this equation. Some nights they fall asleep together like small children, and Dongju wakes up to find Dongmyeong turned away from him, while the younger clings to the older.
They’re in high school when the girl Dongju has a crush on asks if he would take her to one of the band’s busking gigs. She asks shyly, staring at Dongju through her eyelashes. He stutters through his answer, and finds himself on a Saturday morning spending way longer getting ready then he feels is socially acceptable for a teenaged boy. He takes her to the front, where the band is setting up, and Dongju doesn’t think any of them even notice that he’s there. She asks if she looks alright, and Dongju awkwardly, though stutters, tells her that she does. She smiles and says that she wanted to look good today, that she always wanted to date a rock star. Dongju watches as her eyes flit to Giwook’s bass, to the drum kit, and to his own brother’s keyboard. He leaves her there to flirt with the band, and doesn’t bother staying for the performance. If Dongmyeong saw him there, nothing was ever said.
He starts telling people that he wants to be an actor. No one is ever openly unsupportive, but he gets a lot of weird looks. Dongju thinks it’s because he has a small, quiet personality until he talks to one of his teachers. The older man gives Dongju a light chuckle, and asks if he’s trying to follow his brother into the spotlight. It’s not said maliciously, but Dongju still has to bite his tongue to keep from crying out.
When Dongmyeong gets scouted and casted by RBW, he tells Dongju he isn’t allowed to say anything to anyone. Dongju asks if Dongmyeong has changed his path to being an idol, but his brother doesn’t have an answer. He says that he has a major television schedule coming up, but that’s all. He doesn’t inform anyone that it’s Produce 101 until he has to leave. He greatly injures himself, and is one of the first eliminated, but he comes home smiling nonetheless.
Dongmyeong’s stint on the show is short, but the impact is great. Old friends are coming out of the woodworks, and soon Dongju feels like there’s a wall of people between him and his brother. RBW announces that the entire band has signed with the company, and Dongju wonders what his brother’s future is going to be. Right now, Dongmyeong is completely out of reach.
When the second survival show in a year is announced, Dongju becomes certain that RBW wants his brother to be an idol. Surely, they knew that the band as a whole isn’t going to flourish in an idol competition? When the first rankings are announced Dongju’s fears are realized, and then the band comes home and Dongmyeong stays. Dongju considers reaching out to Giwook but doesn’t; the younger boy has the support of his hyungs and doesn’t need someone he never really cared about anyways.
Dongmyeong makes it all the way to the finale, and Dongju is asked to send him a video message. He tells him that he’s so happy to be his twin, and, despite the isolation Dongju feels, everything he says is true. Dongmyeong inevitably doesn’t win, but Dongju is there backstage to be his brother’s greatest supporter.
“Did hyung do well?” Dongmyeong whispers in his ear.
“You’re only a minute older,” Dongju whispers back, but holds his older brother like a lifeline, trying to convey what his words can’t.
Someone at RBW has given the call to stop promoting Dongmyeong as an idol, and promotions for MAS and the dance trainees are staring to go all out. Dongju hears names over the phone, most he recognizes, and Dongju tries to be supportive. But their home feels empty without Dongmyeong’s energy, and Dongju doesn’t know what to do. He’s graduated high school, but doesn’t even really know who he is yet.
While Dongmyeong was on The Unit, Dongju went for an audition at an agency. They ask him if he wants to be an idol, and he says he’ll be whomever they want him to be as long as the end goal is an actor. Someone comments about how he looks like that one kid on the KBS show, with a similar name and age. Dongju bites his tongue. When they call him back to offer him a spot in the company, he doesn’t accept. He rips the tops of his fingernails off one by one.
Somehow, he ends up in RBW. The entire experience is a blur, but then Dongmyeong is hugging him, welcoming him to the company. He’s immediately placed on the debut team, and, as he’s bringing his luggage into the dorm, he can’t help but think it’s because of his brother. He’s heard some talk about the band and the dance group being “twin groups” and “brother groups”, and Dongju can’t help but think they meant that seriously. Even here, where a future is within his grasp, he still has to stand behind his brother.
His members, his hyungs, are generally amazing and Dongju loves being around them. Their supportive with him learning to sing and dance, and seem to actually want him around. There’s no obvious animosity that he’s here and not someone they’ve known for longer. For the first time, Dongju feels like he’s somewhere he’s supposed to be.
Nothing’s perfect, however. As he gets to know his members, he realizes how much they love Dongmyeong, how used to him they are. Dongju will find that sometimes he’ll do something, like react positively to their affection, and someone will tell him how Dongmyeong would never have done that. It’s not mean, and not meant to degrade him in anyway, but Dongju still feels the pang of rejection he knows far too well. It’s selfish, but he wants his members to love him best.
He clings to Geonhak, and in return he gets the begrudging affection of an older brother. Geonhak is new to the team, like he is, and Dongju feels secure in their mutual imposter syndrome. It takes Dongju a while to recognize that Geonhak is something completely original to his life. Unlike everyone else around them, unlike the fans that watch their pre-debut process online, Geonhak has a completely blank slate when it comes to Dongju. He doesn’t compare him to Dongmyeong because he knows Dongju better. It’s a first for Dongju, and he almost feels guilty for basking in the glory of someone loving him more than Dongmyeong. He feels that, after a lifetime of being second best, he’s earned this feeling.
They give him a new name, Xion. The syllables feel foreign in his mouth, but he says them over and over until they’re second nature. Xion. A name all to himself. Xion. A name that’s not similar in any way to his brother’s. He loves his name, but this stage name feels like a blessing. It makes him feel like, for the first time, he can stand apart.
They hold a pre-debut concert to reveal the names of the group. MAS has been given the name ONEWE, the dance group is ONEUS. Dongju feels that the names hold some sort of sanctity, and shows how interconnected the groups are. After all the combined activities, the months of practice, Dongju even feels close to the band he spent so much of his adolescence resenting. Giwook hugs and congratulates him, and Dongju can’t remember why he ever hated the younger boy in the first place.
With all the glory, however, comes the shadow beckoning over him once again. In the days that follow their concert, Dongju and Dongmyeong have their first real fight. They’ve squabbled over the years, like any siblings, but this feels real and heavy and weighs down Dongju’s heart. They get a moment alone, the first time in years it feels like, and Dongju feels a sense of contentment. He didn’t realize how much he actually missed Dongmyeong.
But then Dongmyeong is joking around, saying that he heard a teacher say that Dongju was still too shy and needed to open up more, and Dongju mutters under his breath that he wishes everyone would just stop comparing the two of them. Dongmyeong stops and says that this has nothing to do with him, and it was just Dongju needing a little more time to learn. And then Dongju’s ears turn red, and he grasps at his fingernails, and a lifetime of feeling left behind and forgotten comes boiling out of him. Everything in his life had always had to do with Dongmyeong.
He’s angry as he speaks. He’s angry about all the years he spent watching Dongmyeong from behind. Angry about the people who wanted to be around Dongmyeong and neglected Dongju for it. Angry about all the times his objectives were questions and diminished by people thinking he just wanted to follow Dongmyeong. He’s angry about all the constant comparisons. Angry that all his hobbies growing up were things Dongmyeong wanted to do, that he had no say. And, when it all boils down to it, angry that Dongmyeong pushed him aside for Giwook and a band where Dongju wasn’t welcome.
There’s tears burning Dongju’s cheeks, and he looks up to see Dongmyeong fighting a mixture of emotion. But there, in the forefront, is Dongmyeong’s anger. Dongju is reminded that the only reason Dongju feels any of this is his own feelings. If Dongju had at any point, just spoken up and asserted himself then he wouldn’t feel like this. Dongmyeong was following his own dreams and his own path, was he not supposed to do that in order to spare Dongju’s feelings?
Dongju chokes on tears, and Dongmyeong can’t look at him. Dongju feel impossibly small and pathetic. He says, with the clarity of an adult brain, that he couldn’t choose between wanting to be with his brother or having a life apart. Dongmyeong looks at him then, shock and anger in his eyes.
“So, is this your dream right now, Dongju? Because if it’s not then you’ve just stolen an opportunity from someone who wants to do this. And for what? The fact that you can’t recognize that we’re two separate people?”
Dongju’s breath hitches as Dongmyeong stands up, not able to say anything. Dongmyeong’s anger seems confused, frantic and bewildered.
“No one asked you to stand in my shadow,” Dongmyeong whispers, “You put yourself there,”
And Dongmyeong storms off, leaving Dongju to stare at the older’s back.
Dongju comes back to the dorms, eyes red and puffy. The hyungs crowd around him, trying to figure out what’s wrong. Dongju brushes them all off. Surely, they would all agree with Dongmyeong? The one they love best? Surely, they would all hate him too. So, he says nothing, and climbs into bed. Geonhak climbs in with him, trying to coax out an explanation. Dongju ignores the affection, and tells his hyung he’s sick and can’t go into practice for a few days.
Two days pass, and Dongju hardly leaves his bed. He wonders, sourly, if Dongmyeong is going about his day just fine. He’s run out of tears to dry but the feeling of being completely pathetic remains. The skin around his fingernails is red, raw, and abused. The nails have been bitten right down to the quick. Right as he’s about to fall asleep again, Yongjo comes and climbs into bed. The older’s hug is warm and Dongju feels himself relax. He whispers, half hoping that Youngjo doesn’t hear, that Dongmyeong hates him. Youngjo’s grip on him tightens, and Dongju falls asleep.
Clearly Youngjo talks to Dongmyeong, because the next day his twin is in his room, climbing into bed with him. Dongju feels shame wash over him, and he can feel Dongmyeong’s tenseness radiating through his body. Neither twin knows what to say to the other. Dongmyeong places a tentative arm over Dongju, a peace offering, and the younger starts crying.
Dongmyeong tells Dongju that he doesn’t want his twin to feel like he’s constantly being compared to someone else. He wants Dongju to feel great at whatever it is he’s doing, only wants him to be happy. Wishes that Dongju had spoke out when they were younger, but recognizes that he never learned how, what with Dongmyeong being so loud. He doesn’t hate Dongju, not in the slightest; he loves his baby brother too much, so much. Dongju, through tears, reminds Dongmyeong that there’s only a minute between them. They both laugh, and the tension starts to melt.
Dongju tells Dongmyeong about how isolated he felt. About the girl he liked who used him to get someone better. About the teacher who joked about his ambitions. About all the times he got compared to Dongmyeong, and how non-malicious it all was. But how hurt he felt anyways. It’s hard to come into your own, when the reputation of your brother is so large and all-powerful.
Dongju tells him about that day, so many years ago now, when Giwook asked Dongmyeong to join the band. About how they had always sung together, the three of them, and how cruel it all felt at the time. Like he was second best, or just someone inconsequential that was just there. He tells him about having to always stare at Dongmyeong’s back from there on out. How he always had to reach for a brother who went from being someone who was an equal in his world to someone he had to orbit around.
Dongmyeong chuckles, and asked if he would have to speak for Dongju until the day they both die. Dongmyeong asks if he’s been a bad brother, and Dongju shakes his head. No, he states, Dongmyeong has been the best brother, the only one he could ever hope for. And then they’re laughing and hugging, and they’re both apologizing to each other.
“This is where I want to be,” Dongju whispers when they calm down, “I’m not following you. It just so happens we both want the same thing,”
His brother just smiles.
Dongmyeong leaves, and Dongju ventures out of the bedroom for the first time in days. His members are all in the common area, staring wordlessly at their maknae, letting him say the first word. But Dongju doesn’t say anything, and crawls onto the couch and into Keonhee’s long arms. And then the hyungs are all over him, telling him how much they love him and how great he is and how worried they were, and Dongju, for the first time, let’s himself truly believe it.
He goes back to practice, feeling relieved and refreshed. They’re bombarded during their afternoon break by a frantic and distressed Giwook, who’s hugging Dongju and apologizing. Dongju laughs and tells him he’s forgiven. Giwook breathes out a sigh of relief and Dongju makes a mental note to tell Dongmyeong off for telling the younger boy. But he returns Giwook’s hugs, and wonders what the best way to reclaim those years of dislike is.
The two groups film some more pre-debut material, and Dongju feels so comfortable on camera, feels like he’s starting to truly belong. He still feels like the staff compare him to Dongmyeong, and that makes him angry, but he works harder to gain their approval. Sometimes the members still do it too, and Dongju tries to convince himself that it’s out of love for the both of them. Some days that’s easier to do than others, but he’s working on it.
He bites his fingernails out of stress, now because the anxiety of debut is too hard to comprehend. He’s so close, and he still wants to be an actor some days, but the stage is too fun, too enticing. A date is set and the songs are recorded. And the day grows closer and closer until it’s finally here and Dongju can’t breathe.
And as he sets forward to his future, he’s able to look behind him and see his brother cheering him on. Dongmyeong’s smile is wide, and Dongju smiles back, just as brightly.