Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

part one — a necessary evil

The thing about working in a place with all the walls covered in mirrors was that, after a while, it started to feel like he was being chased by his own reflection.

And not in a fun, exciting way like they showed in psychological thrillers.

Mainly because movies, once they get too real, they can be put on pause —turn on the lights and the cloud of fiction dissipates. But Jinyoung’s life seemed to abide by a different set of rules. 

There was no pause button.

It was a fast life, run by screens and cues - it was life behind the scenes, that shows you all the hidden tricks until you’re left to question every image you’re bombarded with, from the poster on the bus stop to the ad popping up in the middle of your social media scrolling.

Sometimes, Jinyoung really wished he had a pause button.

He would freeze this meeting, turn his chair around and gaze at the gigantic window overlooking the street. It was a warm day, one of the first of the year, and yet he hadn’t taken the chance to look at the cloudless sky or feel the sun on his face since hopping out of bed in the morning.

“But we’re still higher than last year ?"

“Yeah, slightly under one percent higher. For most people, it looks like we’re staying stable."

“But we’re not ‘most people’ is that what you’re gonna say ?”

Jinyoung rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands. There were so many numbers projected on the screen in front of him that he could barely distinguish the data they were reviewing now from the one they had already moved on from. He had seen so many similar charts and curves over his years at the network that the strongest reaction they stirred within him ranged from mild apathy to a slight raise of an eyebrow. 

They were ratings. 

Jinyoung had worked in television production for the better part of the past decade of his life, he had switched networks only once -in his first year- and considered himself quite lucky to have landed in one of the top broadcasting companies in the country. Ratings to him were a necessary evil : tremendously boring yet able to shift his entire plans for the year in the blink of an eye. 

There were two types of people in this business, those who lost their absolute shit every time reports were published -that would be Jaebeom- and those who didn’t even realise they had been published -Mark was arguably the undisputed champion in this category. 

Jinyoung was a man of middle grounds and averages. He took a quick glance over the reports and, unless the whole sheet was filled with red numbers, got back to whatever he was busy with. Until the unavoidable ratings meeting.

Where he was currently stuck. 

"You’re still in the top ten primetime entertainment programs, Bambam." Youngjae replied, pointing towards the screen to show him the data of competing programs on their same slot. “As long as you don’t go under the current numbers, people won’t see stagnation as an issue. You’re still a blue chip for advertisers.”

Bambam slumped back on his chair, pouting and mumbling something Jinyoung couldn’t quite make out. 

That was another thing Jinyoung considered his greatest luck. Among the many projects he had been a part of, his shiniest credits were usually attached to Bambam’s name. They had met when the younger was a new face and Jinyoung an assistant producer for a different network. He had been assigned the task to cast some young extras for an episode of an entertainment show, people who would be brought in without knowing what show they were filming until the reveal at the end of the episode. 

When Jinyoung had seen Bambam’s face, wide-eyed and youthful, he had assessed that he looked clueless enough to guarantee some strong reactions to the situations created by the cast. What he had not anticipated, however, was how comfortable the boy would be with seven cameramen all up in his business, or how audiences would react to the jokes he cracked up unprompted, or even how striking his face would look captured at every possible angle. Jinyoung had kept the boy’s name at the top of his casting list, even after he switched networks. 

And from there, as Bambam grew from most recognisable extra on television to recurring cast member in beloved programs, to household name of the entertainment industry, Jinyoung’s career also took off.

He was the executive producer behind every show Bambam managed to get approved. That came with a steady slew of accolades, awards and name recognition among industry professionals. 

However, as their marketing and research analyst Choi Youngjae could confirm, working with Bambam meant dealing with his eternal unsatisfaction and stubborn unwillingness to rest -be it on a bed or on his laurels. 

“We’re number one in catch-up streaming.” Jinyoung commented, glancing over the various graphs displayed on Youngjae’s screen, more as a way to draw Bambam out of his overactive thought bubble than to convey useful information. “I can brag about this when I see Jaebeom later.”

Youngjae laughed. 

Despite showing up at the Content Production department only for occasional meetings, Youngjae was one of the steadiest presences in Jinyoung’s life outside of the network building. Was it because they lived in the same area of the city or because they shared a passion for international arthouse movies, he couldn’t exactly say. 

Jinyoung’s remarks seemed to fly through Bambam’s brain without sticking somewhere on his thought bubble because he jumped up from his chair, almost knocking it down.

“I need to pitch a new show.” he blurted out, like the conclusion to the long thread of reasoning neither Jinyoung nor Youngjae had telepathically perceived 

Oh no. Not again.

Jinyoung rolled his eyes.

“Bam, we’re doing fine. We’re the highest rated entertainment production in the network, we’re in our third year, it’s not worth ringing the alarm over numbers growing less fast.”

Youngjae nodded, but Bambam only started frantically pacing around the meeting room without looking at anyone in particular.

“We’re becoming a blue chip.” he started rambling. “People are getting used to us. For now they love the show but this is where we enter the danger zone. One wrong move and we’ll come crashing down. We need to introduce something new so that this show can keep growing in peace and people don’t get bored.”

Jinyoung took his head between his hands. Now he would have to fit pitch brainstorming sessions in his schedule… could he fit them with the lunches maybe ?

“He thinks so much I’m surprised he manages to get anywhere.” Youngjae joked later, when Bambam sprinted to his own office after closing the door of the meeting room behind them

Jinyoung sighed dramatically, shaking his head. 

“Just don’t mention it if you meet with show-runners on the verge of getting cut, let’s avoid another quitting spree.”

He waved at his friend before they proceeded along opposite ends of the hallway. Jinyoung had barely spun on his heels when he came face to face with his own image on the reflective surface of the elevator doors. 

He froze.

It was impossible to escape them, between mirrors, shiny glass panels, screens… the network building seemed like a prism designed to project and broadcast your own image to yourself everywhere you went. The hallway, the bathrooms, the elevators, even the editing rooms where you were surrounded by multiple computer monitors… you couldn’t run away from your own face. 

And right now Jinyoung’s face looked… tired. His hair was too flat, his eyelids closed slowly, his cheeks were puffy. It was a face he’d rather not stare at for the rest of the day.

He quickly looked away, dropping his gaze to the floor -the most opaque surface in the whole building with the exception of the concrete in the underground parking lot- and kept walking towards his office.

It was just another one of those days.

The Content Production Department was divided in six branches : Newsroom, Sports, Cultural Affairs, Radio Programming, Drama Production and, finally, Entertainment Content. The building was so massive that Jinyoung was convinced that even if he worked in the same network until he retired, he would never manage to cross paths with everyone who worked there at least once. Meeting someone from a different department and interacting with them long enough to build an actual bond was so rare one could think it was an urban legend.

Most of Jinyoung’s circle of acquaintances was concentrated in the area of the twelfth floor dedicated to his field of the Entertainment department.  

After Bambam, the most familiar face he ran into throughout the day was Jaebeom. Both of them were the youngest executive producers in the networks, which meant they were each other’s number one rival and number one source of advice. They competed for the highest ranks in the ratings, yet were always brainstorming together the very same shows that ended up pitting them one against the other. Jaebeom had made a name for himself in the industry for innovative formats, which meant his shows were designed to run for short periods of time as they were usually unsustainable novelties, but always left a strong impact and animated many discussions in the media. On the other side of the spectrum, Jinyoung was known for audience-favourite programs, the ones people usually ran to for comfort after a long week, the ones with the surprising emotional twist that made more than one stoic heart shed a tear, the ones whose scenes often got shared countless times on social media platforms. 

However, their competition reached its peak every time the Department’s Executive Director had to decide who would produce the upcoming special event broadcast. An award show ? A special anniversary ? A themed event ? It was a free-for-all. 

Unfortunately, so far, they had both never been chosen. They ended up shaking hands and drinking their weight in beer, complaining about all the chances they weren’t given. 

Then, after his friend and rival, came Jinyoung’s fixed team, the people he always dragged along anytime he sailed for new endeavours. 

They were three.

The first was Mark Tuan, his most trusted colleague, his first mate, his right-hand man. Mark was his line and field producer, he was in charge of everything from scouting locations, to handling logistics, coordinating production but most importantly he was tasked with all the phone calls. Jinyoung hated phone calls, he tripped over his words and left uncomfortable blanks in the conversation, but Mark always got to the point. He was also a mighty negotiator, he could drive down the prices of anything so low that Jinyoung was convinced he was a part time con-artist -for fuck’s sake he had witnessed him get an eighty percent discount on a virtual set studio Bambam had insisted they rent for an episode of the show, a technology so expensive Jinyoung was still baffled they actually managed to get approval from the network to even produce that episode. 

Then, there was Yugyeom, assistant producer, social butterfly extraordinaire and swiss army knife of the team. If Jinyoung wanted to run his pirate ship metaphor dry, he would call him his cabin boy. Maybe not, he might take offense. Still, Yugyeom had a long list of talents that made him vital to Jinyoung’s confidence in any project they undertook -not that you’d get him to say it out loud. He had the flair for people of the best casting directors in the world, could drive anyone from point A to point B in record time without looking at a GPS or breaking traffic laws somehow, he could make any uncooperating piece of technology magically work like it’d just been unboxed, he could direct extras including kids and animals, and operated and edited behind-the-scenes footage for the show’s social media accounts. And he was obviously overworked. Anytime Yugyeom took a day off for any reason whatsoever, Jinyoung felt the entire production machine collapse on itself.

Finally, the last fixed member of his crew was Eunji, head writer on the show and the only one whose brain seemed to run at a normal pace no matter the time of the day. It became sort of worrying after a while, as Jinyoung could attest from several phone calls with her in the dead of night, when she’d sound just as lucid as she did fifteen hours earlier under a bright daylight. Jinyoung was convinced she was powered by dynamo, as long as there was motion in her body, her batteries remained fully charged. She was often their saving grace, as she had the impressive ability to tune into the radio frequency of Bambam’s brain to translate some of his ideas into things that could actually be presented in budget meetings without fearing a cold harsh no from Jinyoung’s higher ups. She was like a unicorn with fairy wings, the mascot of the whole floor, the honey-smiled bullshitter-in-chief. 

However, despite the size of the building and his restricted circle of interactions, Jinyoung had managed to meet a grand total of two people outside the Entertainment department.

One of them was Youngjae, from the Broadcasting and Marketing side, and the other one was none other than the infamous newsroom input desk editor, Jackson Wang. 

Everybody and their underpaid interns knew Jackson Wang, but Jinyoung had one point he liked to dangle over everyone’s heads, his personal claim to special treatment. That they had joined the network on the same day.

Yes. Yes, that’s it. 

To anyone it might sound trivial, but entering a gigantic building where you’re essentially a stranger and a newbie with no sense of directions was quite daunting. However, entering said building next to another somewhat disorientated newbie-stranger… well that was a different story. Jinyoung didn’t actually realise that right away, on that day, but it became quite clear when they met for the second time. 

It wasn’t a really shining encounter. Jinyoung, at that time still only assistant producer, had been asked by his senior to get him some tapes of old shows from the archives to check if they could come up with a throwback episode for the program they were airing at the time. Now, finding the archives had been hard enough, but tracing back his steps while carrying a heavy box of VHS cassettes that smelled like old dust and covered his line of sight… mission impossible. If Jinyoung had been Tom Cruise, he would have studied the itinerary and memorised every single shortcut -he would also would have been able to hold his breath long enough to avoid getting his nose clogged with dust. Unfortunately for him, he was only Park Jinyoung and he had no idea where the hell he was.

He was running up a flight of stairs he was pretty sure resembled every other flight of stairs in the massive building while simultaneously not looking like the one Jinyoung had taken on his way down. As his brain was wheeling faster and faster, trying to put his finger on what looked off about the place he could only make out through the gap between the two wings of the box, his nose began to itch painfully. 

Jinyoung had often wondered about the lapse of time between the moment the slip of a fault was perceived by a seismic monitor and the moment the ground started to shake many miles away.

Perhaps he had started to wonder right in that second, when he couldn’t begin to measure the consequences that simple itch would have in his life. 

All of this was a dramatic way to get to a simple point. He sneezed.

The dust shot through his nose so quickly that Jinyoung felt it pierce his brain like an arrow, and he barely had a second to register what his body was doing before he was folded in two by a loud sneeze. 

The first immediate consequence of his brutal, uncontrolled reaction, was that his body was so shaken that he missed a step.

As he missed a step, he lost his balance.

As he lost his balance, his hands jerked.

As his hands jerked, the box tipped over.

As the box tipped over, the cassettes went flying.  

“Shit.” was all Jinyoung had been able to think in that moment. “Shit, shit, shit.”

He ran down the stairs, trying to pick up the fallen objects. They had slipped so far, some of them had reached the floor below. 

As the thought of what damage that could have potentially done to archive material they might not even have copies of- Jinyoung what the hell, Jinyoung’s throat began tightening. 

An avalanche of mental images fell over him, imagining what he would have to say to his boss not only to excuse his lateness but also to explain himself if the tapes got so damaged they couldn’t even be read anymore. He had been there for less than a month, they could still call back the person he beat during the hiring process, he would have to explain the stain on his record for the rest of his life and-

Before he could finish that thought, someone came running out of the nearby hallway. 

When he saw the familiar face, Jinyoung’s shoulders dropped and his face started burning red.

“I just- it’s a…” he started mumbling but Jackson didn’t stop to listen to his explanation about the mess, he just bent over and started picking up the cassettes Jinyoung had not reached yet

He had never felt so clumsy and ridiculous in his life. But, he told himself, Jackson was a newbie just like him so he couldn’t possibly pass too harsh a judgment on his mistakes, right ?

And indeed, Jackson offered him a smile when he put the last cassette back into the box. Jinyoung’s first instinct was to come up with an apology really quickly, but an antagonistic voice in his head reminded him that Jackson would not have helped him if he didn’t want to, so he settled for a heavy “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Jackson smiled even brighter. “I heard the noise so I thought someone might have gotten hurt.”

Well, Jinyoung came out of the fall unscathed but it was only a matter of time until he got back to his boss’ office and then it would be a different story.

He thanked Jackson again with a nod of his head, then turned around to get back to the stairs. However, he immediately froze on the spot, looking at the still unfamiliar area around him. 

Everything looked the same as the Entertainment department except… wait. The stairs in the Entertainment department were on the right side of the elevators. Here the elevators were not even close, they were on the other end of the hallway. Shit, he was going the wrong way.

“Wait !” he called after Jackson, who had only taken one step back in the time it took for Jinyoung’s brain to process the information. “What side of the building is this ?”

Jackson squinted at him, scanning him up and down as if he suspected Jinyoung to have taken the nasty fall on his head instead of the cassettes.

“This is the newsroom. Why ?”

“Crap. I’m on the other side.”

Mentally cursing himself about choosing a few too many wrong doors on his way back from the archives, Jinyoung spun around. His only chance was to take the elevators back to the entrance hallway, and from there he would find the itinerary he took every morning when he got to work.

“Hey !” he heard Jackson yell behind him. “Hey, your badge !”

If Jinyoung’s face had been red with embarrassment a few minutes earlier, he could now compete for the prize of most beautiful tomato in the farmhouse and no one would even question it. He could maybe even win.

See, there was a reason why he was even bothering to take the stairs instead of the elevator. He very much wished he could gloss over this part of the story because it always made him sound like an idiot, but after a few weeks of working at the network he still managed to forget his badge on his desk from time to time -which he counted as progress, because in his first week there was not a day he wouldn’t leave for his lunchbreak without it. However, he needed it not only to get through the front door in the morning but also to activate the elevators and a few very important doors, especially the ones leading to the editing rooms -yes, Jinyoung had been locked out of those too after leaving his badge next to the monitor, yes. He had been reprimanded many times by his colleagues and his boss, as it was employee policy to wear the badge in a visible place, but the instructions to get to the archives had been brought to him in such a rush that he hadn’t bothered to check his pockets.

This is how Jinyoung found himself for the second time in the span of five minutes biting back the need to melt in a puddle of apologies at the feet of the rookie reporter. 

“Thank you…” was what he said instead, whining like someone who already had a long day by 10 AM, when Jackson used his own badge to help him get to his department

Jackson laughed.

“Don’t mention it.”

And Jinyoung would have taken it literally if only he didn’t need to tell that story a few times for bragging purposes. Because yes, obviously, the two of them being each other’s first friend in the building despite working on opposite sides of it was worth bragging about. 

Worth it because now, Jackson had grown into one of the most well-known names inside the network, partly due to his work ethic that had significantly reshaped the newsroom as well as the reputation of the network’s reporting, partly because he turned quite a few heads when he walked in the cafeteria.

Worth it because despite being one of the busiest people in the whole building, Jackson still wandered off to the Entertainment department occasionally, just like when they were newbies bringing each other snacks to complain about their bosses.

A sudden bang on the table right next to his ear made Jinyoung fly off his chair.

Jackson burst into laughter.

“Why are you even sleeping at work ?” he teased. “You’re lucky it’s only me.”

Jinyoung breathed out in relief when he realised what had startled him. Jackson had put down a water bottle on the table, next to where he had told himself he would just rest his head for a few seconds. 

“Thank you.” Jinyoung mumbled, grabbing the bottle and uncapping it with a sharp gesture

One day, he should really consider billing himself what he owed Jackson in snacks and water bottles, that his friend so kindly brought at random times of the week because he knew Jinyoung was not the best example of an adult with his shit together.

“Long week ?” Jackson guessed, sitting on the table, not bothering to acknowledge Jinyoung’s thanks

The groan that came out of Jinyoung’s mouth, after downing half the bottle in two gulps, was terrifying.

Jackson nodded. That was good enough of an answer for him.

“How many times have you napped at work since Monday ?”

Jinyoung froze in the middle of screwing the cap back on the bottle. He opened his eyes wide, his cheeks still round with the water in his mouth, looking straight at his friend, who just stoically stared back. 

To lie or not to lie ? 

He swallowed.

“You’re the only one who has ever caught me.”

Jackson, however, did not seem to appreciate Jinyoung’s absolutely hilarious quip. What a pity.

“Jinyoung.” he got up and crossed his arms on his chest, eyes shining with worry and his smile fading off from his lips

“Jackson.” Jinyoung mimicked, walking back to his desk where he had left a lot of paperwork unfinished 

He added a raise of eyebrows, just to underline how much he wasn’t willing to hear a pep talk right now. His friend seemed to get the message perfectly because he just sighed.

“They had some issues in one of the field stations in Busan” he said instead, seemingly changing the subject. “They’re talking about sending me there for a week or two to check the mess.”

“Oh really, what happened ?”

“It’s not clear yet. Conflicts of interests most likely, but if I do have to go there for some time, I’ll send Youngjae to make sure you don’t keep sleeping holed up in your office.”

“How do we know he doesn’t sleep holed up in his office ? He looks at so many numbers all day it must be like counting sheep.”

The eye roll Jinyoung got as a reply was worth the silly joke. 

“I’m serious though. If I see you online at three in the morning…”

Jinyoung tilted his head, the corners of lips rising slowly, waiting for the threat his friend would come up with this time. 

“Just don’t make me call you in the middle of the night to scold you.”

“Yeah. We wouldn’t want that, would we ?”

“I hate you, get back to work.”

Jinyoung laughed. 

“Thanks again for the water !” he yelled when Jackson crossed the door to get out of his office

All he got back was a thumbs up.

Now. There were some pressing questions monopolising his brain capacity, he couldn’t afford to keep napping or to take a breather outside. 

He had to call an emergency meeting.

There were two types of emergency meetings in their team. 

Type A was All Hands on Deck, Everyone Get In Here Right Now. 

Type B was Bambam Isn’t Here For A Reason. 

This was a Type B situation. 

Jinyoung closed the door of their writing room and slammed his hands on the table. For effect.

“So. Bam is freaking out.” strong opening statement, yes, well done Park Jinyoung. “We need to come up with a way to reassure him before he brings us all in to brainstorm for six hours.”

As expected, his words were met with mild reactions.

Mark, who was leaning on the whiteboard, stirring his coffee, did not show any switch in his facial expression. Eunji had already taken out her notebook and uncapped her pen, so she was just swaying her hand, probably waiting for Jinyoung to get to the actual point. And Yugyeom just looked around, as if trying to gauge the severity of the situation from everyone else’s faces.

“He thinks the new season won’t be strong enough ?” Mark tried to guess

They were currently on the break between season three and season four of the show. However, the only people currently taking a break were the viewers, because Jinyoung and his team had been busy creating the new season even before the last episode aired the previous week. They had already decided on about three quarters of the content to film, so every day was made of a slew of phone calls, bookings, castings, scoutings and schedules being rearranged after any minor inconvenience.

“Not even that.” Jinyoung shook his head. “He’s afraid that the novelty has worn off and that people will get comfortable and lose interest over time from this point on.”

Jinyoung bit his lip. He could already hear all the comments people could make, the higher ups, other producers, people from outside the network…

A chorus of “Why would you even worry about that now ? Your show is successful, enjoy the ride !” and “You don’t even know, you could still have the highest ratings after sixteen seasons, why focus all your energy on negative outcomes ?”, punctuated by a few incredulous scoffs and some laughter. Overall, not a pleasant symphony.

But he had called these specific three colleagues in the room for a reason. The team working on Jinyoung’s various shows was much bigger than the five of them, however all the other people were particles orbiting around the nucleus composed of Bambam-Mark-Eunji-Yugyeom.

They did not laugh. Mark even put down his coffee and drew a chair for him to sit on. 

This was why Jinyoung trusted them above all others. Thinking they were blowing out of proportion a very light situation would be not knowing Bambam like Jinyoung knew Bambam. Or not knowing Jinyoung like he knew himself for that matter.

While, yes, it was true that some non-fiction shows like theirs enjoyed years of steady high ratings, they were rarely the case studies and the stories people liked to talk about in the hallways of television networks. The crash-and-burn type of failures were ghosts, haunting bathrooms, cafeterias, break rooms and even elevators, their name always on people’s lips like cautionary tales to keep you from flying too close to the sun. Jinyoung’s first boss always liked to say “it’s better to start small and grow than to start high and plummet, because if you start high everything that comes after will look small to you”. 

Jinyoung had mostly known that case scenario in his career, shows that started off with modest audience interest but went on to become beloved even after their run ended. However, this time, lightning had struck and their show had broken record viewing numbers from the very first episode. 

That should be cause for celebration, right ? Confettis everywhere, crying-on-the-phone-to-your-parents-saying-you-made-it type of celebration.

Or… it was the most terrifying ride you could ever be pushed on. 

Don’t misinterpret it as Jinyoung saying he didn’t like it, absolutely not, he was thrilled he had reached the point in his career he used to daydream about every waking moment that led up to it. Nonetheless, Bambam found being validated in his projects extremely daunting. He spent every day after the first ratings of the show came out frantically rewatching the next episodes that had already been edited, suddenly overly aware of the minuscule details : the slightly too abrupt cut, the faint sound of birds out of tempo with the lines of the cast, a bright trash can someone forgot to take out of the shot… It was like walking over the finest line, between excitement about all the creative possibilities it unlocked for them and the constant fear of those new possibilities becoming the sword on which they’d die.

Jinyoung couldn’t exactly say he didn’t feel the same way sometimes, he was just better at delaying the effort to think about it.

“It’s pretty early to pitch new shows though” Eunji pointed out. “We just finished the first quarter, there won’t be any budget unlocking until July or August.”

“That’s why we need to start now. Bambam might take months to come up with an idea, but if we lay the groundwork now we have a better chance at guiding him so he has a solid plan when summer comes around.”

They all nodded. Bambam could generate ideas at the speed of an out-of-control printing machine but entertaining impossible solutions for too long usually resulted in critical wastes of time. 

“What slot would we even be pitching for ?” Eunji asked again, already scribbling on her notepad. “We don’t even know what slots will be available.”

At that, Jinyoung turned around to look at Yugyeom, who jumped at the sudden staring. 

“Why are you looking at me ?” he said, stumbling over his words

“Because every time you go anywhere people stop you to talk so I expect you to know everyone’s business. Has anyone dropped any hint that they’re next on the cancellation board ?”

Yugyeom shook his head.

“No I haven’t heard anything like that. But they’re moving Seo Beomjun’s travel series to a graveyard slot, so it’s a matter of time before they pull the plug completely.”

“Yeah…” Jinyoung groaned. “We’re not pitching anything for a graveyard slot, I don’t want to kill all of our careers.”

“But they pushed his show because the network wants to introduce new daytime programs.” Mark interjected. “So there might be an opening there, Jaebeom was talking about it the other day.”

Ah yes, daytime programs. The television embodiment of Russian roulette. If you were lucky, you ended up with a slot around lunch time, or after school in the early evening before primetime broadcasts, aka the only times people actually sat in front their television when the sun was out. If you weren’t too unlucky but life was really testing your limits, you could end up with early morning slots, where your audience was people needing background noise for their breakfast and teeth-brushing. That wasn’t ideal for entertainment programs, since they usually required the viewer’s attention most of the time. 

And if you were given any slot in between, well, you were doomed. 

Bullet to the head.

“How about a limited run show ?” Eunji said, probably noticing Jinyoung’s face at Mark’s suggestion

“That’s Jaebeom’s shtick, I don’t want him accusing me of trespassing on his territory.”

“Even if we make it fit a theme ? We run it for six or seven weeks tied to an event or an anniversary or something ?”

“We’re probably too late for anniversary programs.” Mark reminded them

Silence fell over the room.

Well. It wouldn’t be show business if it was any easier, would it ? 

“Alright.” Jinyoung huffed out. “That means all four of us are now on the lookout for any information. People retiring, cancellations, themes and events that aren’t covered yet… let’s gather as much as we can for Bambam. I’m gonna grill Youngjae. Obviously, we’re not telling anyone yet, in case this all blows over by next week.”

Grilling Youngjae would be no walk in the park, Jinyoung was fully aware of that. They might be close friends but Youngjae was not one to indulge in breaches of professional etiquette. Ratings were not a secret, they were displayed all over the network and on the internet. However, some producers didn’t like airing out their worries to all of their colleagues, especially potential rivals looking to pitch new shows. Jinyoung would have to take out his most refined artillery.

“You’ve been on hiatus for a week and you’re already calling meetings without your show-runner, that doesn’t look good…” a voice behind him almost startled him, except he had expected it

Jinyoung finished closing the door behind him. The rest of team had already scattered to the four winds on their very important quests, so obviously he was the only one left for Im Jaebeom to bother.

“Don’t you have a show premiere to worry about ?” Jinyoung countered, letting his fellow producer drop his arm around his shoulders and lead him away. “You’re not spying on me, are you ?”

Jaebeom burst out laughing.

“Will you be watching my show tonight ?” he asked instead of answering Jinyoung’s ridiculous questions

“Depends. Do I get paid to promote it ?”

“Promote it to your grand audience of… no one ?”

“Excuse you, no one knows who you are either, you’re not allowed to make fun of me for it.”  

“Just send me a picture of someone other than you watching it and I’ll buy you coffee.”

At those words, Jinyoung’s grin spread from ear to ear.

He held out his hand.

“Deal. Cumulative offer, if I get more than one person, you buy me more than one coffee.”

And that, my friends, is how you do business.

“Why do you have so much energy at this hour ?’’ Youngjae groaned

Jinyoung put the platter of food down in front of the television. 

“What do you mean ?" he chuckled, sitting down next to his friend, who was already lunging for the beer. “It’s only eight."

"Lucky you then."

Jinyoung looked over his shoulder and squinted.

“Give me a second, I’ll go see if my grandma needs help."

He pushed himself off the couch and sprinted out of his living room, crossing the kitchen to get to the hallway that led to the two bedrooms of his apartment.

He softly knocked on the first one, the closest to the bathroom, his grandmother’s.

“The show’s about to start, is everything alright ?"

There was a beat, a second of silence, before a soft voice answered behind the door.

“You can come in, sweetheart."

Jinyoung only had to lightly push the knob, his grandmother never liked closing the doors when she was in a room. It was a habit they had bickered about, as it was automatic for Jinyoung to shut every window or door he passed by, as a reflex. 

His grandmother was sitting on her bed, wrapping herself in a wool shawl too big for her.

A soft smile floated over Jinyoung’s lips.

His grandmother’s room —Jinyoung’s ex-guest room— looked bright even past nightfall. Maybe because of the light wood of the furniture, the linen of the curtains, the pastel shades of the pillows and sheets, or maybe just because of all the framed pictures covering every available surface. Jinyoung knew the stories behind every single one of them.

“Do you want my arm ?" Jinyoung offered, holding his hand out to help his grandmother get up from the bed

She swatted his hand away with a playful grunt. Jinyoung laughed.

“Come on. The food will be cold."

The last ads before Jaebeom’s show were playing when all three of them were finally seated and eating in front of the television.

Jinyoung had made sure to send a text to everyone in his close acquaintances circle, telling them to send a picture of them watching the show. Yugyeom had sent a selfie immediately, with only his face at a ridiculous angle.

With the show in the background, YG, with the show in the background. Jinyoung had replied.

Jinyoung glanced over the room to check if he hadn’t forgotten anything, the water, a napkin, a glass. His gaze fell on Youngjae, eyes fixed on the screen in front of them, munching absentmindedly. His features were drawn and grey. He looked tired. 

Jinyoung frowned.

“Work ?" he asked

Youngjae shrugged.

The jingle announcing the end of the commercial break appeared. Jinyoung wanted to turn his head to focus on the show’s opening credits, but his brain kept urging him to glance at his friend.

“Oooh Jaebeomie so handsome !" his grandmother cooed as the title screen faded to a shot of Jaebeom driving

“He finally got Dongseok to let him be producer and show-runner." Youngjae snickered, taking out his phone to snap a picture of their friend. “Look at him, he loves having the camera on his face."

Jinyoung hummed. 

Jaebeom had always been just as comfortable behind and in front of the lens, in the years Jinyoung had known him he had observed just how confined his colleague seemed to feel in his role as a producer. He had ideas, too many according to their boss, he always had suggestions for new things to try. The first time Jinyoung had heard someone joke that he would take over Dongseok’s position and even Han Wontae’s one day, he had felt his body turn to ice. But even himself had to admit it. Jaebeom swam against the current, he always butted heads with the higher ups, he was driven by the desire to invent. He could be the future of the company, if they played their cards right.

Jinyoung took out his phone.

“Smile, I’m gonna send him a picture." he announced, getting up to get Youngjae, his grandmother and the television in the same shot

Just as he snapped the picture, a text notification slid down on his screen.

Jinyoung froze.

hey… i’m sorry for not replying to your messages…

Jinyoung flashed his guests a smile.

“I’ll be back." he told them. “I forgot my glasses, I can’t see the text on the screen."

Well. That was a lie. He had actually forgotten to take off his contact lenses in the rush to prepare dinner before Youngjae came by.

As soon as he reached the hallway, Jinyoung opened his text notification and pressed the call button.

“Hello ?" the voice picked up right away

“Are you home already ?" Jinyoung asked, keeping his voice low

He heard a soft laugh on the other side of the line.

“No. I’m still in the bus. My shift ended late today. Lots of customers, you know, White Day this weekend and all that."

“Did you eat ?"

“Not yet."

“Do you have food at home ?"

“Jinyoung…"

Jinyoung bit his lip. His sister sighed.

“You don’t need to worry so much all the time."

He rolled his eyes.

“You ghosted me for a whole week, I’d be a monster if I didn’t worry."

His reply was met with silence.

For a second, a sharp shiver ran down his spine. He smacked his forehead. He could have used a more playful tone, why had he sounded so dry ? Now she would think—

“I’m sorry…"

“Don’t apologise." Jinyoung interrupted before she could add another word. “I’m used to it, just don’t ask me not to worry."

His sister remained silent again.

Jinyoung let his back hit the hallway wall. He looked down at his feet, biting his lip a little too nervously.

“Jiwon."

“Mmmh ?"

“Do you need me to come ?"

His sister’s breath suddenly became frantic.

“No, no, no, no, no !" Jinyoung could hear she was trying to keep her voice down to not disturb the people around her in the bus, or else she would have yelled at him. “Absolutely not, stay in Seoul, you have work and Grandma, I’m perfectly fine, I’m older than you I can take care of myself, and I’m perfectly fine, I’m alright, everything’s okay, don’t wo— don’t bother."

Jinyoung laughed.

“It’s okay. Catch your breath, I’m not gonna show up at your door."

“It’s hard to know what’s a joke and what isn’t with you."

Ah. Yes. He had heard that before. Many times.

“Well, please keep me updated more often then. Even if it’s just a picture or a text with two words, it’s okay, just let me know… about things."

“I’m sorry… How can I make it up to you ?"

The corners of Jinyoung’s lips lifted slowly. 

“How about… you switch on your television as soon as you get home and take a picture of you watching Jaebeom’s new show so he can buy me coffee every day for a whole week ?"

“Wow. I don’t know if you’re evil or if you just love coffee that much, but your forgiveness standards are very low."

“I’ll think of something harder the next time you disappear on me."

When Jinyoung went back to the living room, still staring at the texts on his phone with a sharp pang in his heart, Youngjae and his grandmother were howling with laughter.

“Took you long enough." Youngjae pointed out

“Forgot where I put my glasses." Jinyoung lied

“Is that why you’re not wearing them now ?"

Jinyoung tensed up. 

Yeah. He was good at acting but not the best at lying.

When the show ended, Jinyoung had received seven pictures : Mark, Bambam, Yugyeom, Eunji, Jiwon, Jackson and his parents. Attaching also the one he took with Youngjae and his grandmother, he sent the loot to Jaebeom.

You owe me ten coffees.

He bit his lip. After a second of hesitation, he sent a second text.

Congrats, the show is really good, you outdid yourself.

Of course, Jaebeom would be swarmed with messages from everyone, so he wouldn’t reply right away. Jinyoung felt his heart sink. 

Should he have started with the congratulations instead of the joke ? Would Jaebeom doubt the sincerity of his compliment ? He knew Jinyoung well enough to not jump to wrong conclusions, right ?

“Where can I put this ?" Youngjae asked suddenly

Startled, Jinyoung whipped around to find his friend holding the empty food platter.

“Give it to me. Go change. You can take my room."

“Wait, I’m sleeping here ?"

“Yeah, you drank."

“It was one beer. I live four blocks away."

“Still."

Youngjae sighed dramatically but didn’t protest, handing the platter to Jinyoung and turning to follow Grandma Park who had already disappeared into the hallway.

Jinyoung didn’t say anything about his friend’s drawn features. They lived in the same neighbourhood, it wasn’t like he had a long commute to get back home, but Jinyoung could imagine that if he had to walk home in the middle of the night his face would look at least a tiny bit more tired in the morning.

He still had to ask about information for Bambam, but that could wait until Youngjae felt better. 

He didn’t even know what kind of data his friend would even be allowed to disclose… He could only hope for the littlest crumb that could make Jinyoung actually helpful for his team.

“Jinyoung."

Jinyoung looked up from the platter that was still in his hands to look at Youngjae, who was looking at him from the door of the hallway. Wait. He had his pyjamas on already, had Jinyoung zoned out entirely ?

"Wow… Jackson wasn’t kidding when he said you need a vacation. You should call in sick one of these days and just sleep."

You’re one to talk, is what Jinyoung did not reply.

“I can’t." he sighed instead. “Not with Bambam stressed out of his brains."

Youngjae stared at him for a few seconds, his gaze unreadable. Then, he closed the door to the hallway and pointed at the living room with his chin.

“Run some tea and meet me on the balcony."

Well. Thank goodness Jinyoung’s eyes didn’t feel heavy with sleep.

Jinyoung’s balcony was famous among his closest friends. It faced a quiet alley and was decorated with a lamp whose warm light had been the silent witness to countless nightly conversations : Bambam and Jinyoung’s shared confessions of fear on the night before their first show together had aired, Jackson’s tearful stories when he’d been so homesick one week that he almost didn’t show up to work, Jinyoung’s talks on the phone with Jiwon…

This time it was him and Youngjae, sitting on the cushions under the secretive light of the lamp, with a cup of tea in their hand.

“You said you wanted to avoid a quitting spree…" Youngjae finally mumbled, his eyes drifting to the starless sky. “We might have worse on our hands."

Jinyoung rose his eyebrows.

“A firing spree ?" he guessed

Youngjae sighed.

“This week’s rating meetings have been the worst. I was in Wontae’s office for three hours, I was scared I’d be late for the show."

“Who ?" Jinyoung hated that the information he had promised to grill his friend about had landed on his lap without even having to bribe him with dinner 

Youngjae hesitated. 

Jinyoung knew why.

This was confidential information. It would soon become a rumour and spread around the hallways of the broadcasting station, but for now it was probably only shared between a couple of people.

“Seo Beomjun." Youngjae finally said. “And Choi Gyuri."

Jinyoung almost spat out his tea. He stared at his friend with wide eyes, waiting for him to laugh and announce it was a joke.

“Two of them ?" he almost shrieked. “Two senior producers ?"

“Yeah. It doesn’t matter if you’ve been with the channel for over thirty years, they’ll let you go if you pass your peak."

Jinyoung’s mouth was hanging. 

“What the fuck…" he whispered, unable to stop the curse words. “Seo Beomjun and Choi Gyuri. Shit."

“Yeah. It’s hell."

“What did Wontae say ?"

Han Wontae was the boss of the bosses in Jinyoung’s department. If Jung Dongseok was their direct superior, the man all Entertainment producers had to answer to and seek the approval of, then Han Wontae was who Dongseok had to answer to. He was in charge of the channel’s entire programming, which made him only one step under the group’s Vice-President. 

He was a man most people couldn’t exactly describe. He wasn’t harsh but he wasn’t kind, he wasn’t friendly but he wasn’t hostile, he wasn’t scary but he wasn’t someone you relaxed around either. The only personal information Jinyoung had on him was that his wife worked for a government agency and that his only daughter attended a music school where she was quite popular. He never wore suits in dark colours and insisted he should never drink coffee past lunch time. He was who you dreaded to be called to meet, as he was the only person with a finger on the trigger. He was the one who would sign the beginning and end of your career at the station. 

“We had a plunge in the ratings for the entertainment channels." Youngjae explained. “But not your usual dip. We hit a low we hadn’t hit in nine years."

Jinyoung didn’t think it could be possible for his eyes to grow even wider. 

What ? He hadn’t heard anything about that ? Wouldn’t that cause… panic ? Wouldn’t the hallways be on fire at this point with people screaming ?

“Not overall." Youngjae continued, probably reading’s Jinyoung’s thoughts through the look in his eyes. “As I said, Bambam’s show did really good and most others too, but it makes the plunge even more dramatic because it’s contrasted by really high ratings in other slots."

“So what happened to Seo Beomjun and Choi Gyuri ?"

“None of their shows have cracked the channel’s average in five years."

“In five years ? What the—"

“In critical slots."

Jinyoung’s words died on his tongue.

“Oh yeah…" he remembered. “Gyuri’s last show was pre-primetime."

“And Beomjun had one at lunchtime and one in after school. Now one of them was moved to a graveyard slot for its second rebroadcast and the other just hit a historical low in variety ratings."

Jinyoung’s mind took him back to his meeting, where Yugyeom did mention something about the graveyard slot. 

“Is it public information yet ?" he asked

Youngjae grimaced.

“It will be before the week is over if it isn’t yet. I’m sure the press already has articles about it ready to be published."

They both fell silent.

“Shit." Jinyoung breathed out, and if he had been swearing a little too much tonight only his friend, the stray cats down the street and the full moon could tell

That was good information. 

And it seared Jinyoung’s mouth to even utter the words in his head. 

This was the career of two of his most respected seniors. Why was he thinking about Bambam instead ? Was he that selfish ? If anyone ever read his mind, they’d think he was such a terrible person.

“What does that mean for you ?" Jinyoung asked his friend, once more eyeing how clouded his gaze looked and the dimness of his smile

Youngjae let the back of his head rest against the wall behind him. His eyes were turned to the sky, but Jinyoung could still see the painful spark in them.

“It means that I’m gonna be the heaviest weight on the scale. They’ll ask me to run the data and draw a conclusion. If they get cut, Wontae will push the button but I’ll be the one to tell him whether he should or not."

Jinyoung felt a sharp twinge in his chest.

“And if I fail to give him the right answer, I’ll be the next one to say goodbye."

Yes. Youngjae couldn’t have any loyalties, Jinyoung knew that, his job required him to think of the good of the company and its performance before the happiness of the different creatives. It made sense, and yet Jinyoung still felt he had to reach his hand out to pat his friend’s knee. 

If only he could offer more… but he was just a little player in the food chain. 

That night, Jinyoung didn’t close his eyes until almost five in the morning. He kept staring at Jiwon’s last text, a picture of her dog sleeping next to her leg captioned goodnight.

He would probably dread his image in the mirrors again the next day.

The first thing Jinyoung saw on Friday morning when he reached the twelfth floor was a crowd of people swarming one of his colleagues. He didn’t have to summon too much brainpower to guess it was everyone congratulating Jaebeom on his show.

He decided to make a beeline for his office, to put his stuff down. Jaebeom was busy right now, they’d get another chance to talk during the day.

“Jinyoung !"

He hadn’t made it to the door of his office yet when he heard footsteps running towards him. 

He turned around to face Jaebeom, whose grin already reached his ears as he extended a large cup of steaming coffee towards him.

“That’s one."

Jinyoung’s mouth fell agape.

You didn’t have to… his brain supplied.

“Thank you." he replied instead, taking the warm coffee and being immediately overwhelmed by the strength of its smell

“Did you like the show ?"

God, he had rarely seen Jaebeom smile so big. Was it because he had been bombarded with compliments for the past twelve hours since the show aired ? Or because he was particularly proud of this one, that he had fought for with their boss a lot more than usual.

“Yeah, I told you." Jinyoung nodded. “You outdid yourself."

“Means a lot coming from you."

Jinyoung pressed his lips tightly.

“Yeah. You deserve it."

He meant it. Every word. And yet he still felt his heart hurt. 

“Park Jinyoung." a different voice called out from the floor’s main hall. “Meet me in my office in five minutes."

Jinyoung’s face fell.

That was Jung Dongseok, his boss.

“What did you do ?" Jaebeom laughed 

“Can you please not say that ?" he whined. “I hate it when he acts like an angry principal."

And yet, as Jinyoung left his coat and his bag in his office, the only thought looping through his mind was exactly that one. What did I do ?

Dongseok was not someone Jinyoung had a bad relationship with, on the contrary he butted heads with him significantly less than Jaebeom. Probably because they had very different temperaments, Jinyoung was more pliant and diplomatic, and knew how to negotiate sneakily or when to accept a compromise. 

Dongseok was not a strict boss, he was just very stressed and terrified of straying away from his comfort zone because he hated making mistakes. He only took calculated risks or he didn’t bet at all, any idea that had more than a two percent chance of failing was immediately rejected. In many ways, he was like Jinyoung.

“Did you have coffee already ?" Dongseok asked in stead of a greeting

Jinyoung nodded, closing the door of his boss’s office, a room he had grown to find tranquil rather than dreadful. 

He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the wall-large mirror opposite the window, on his left. He was looking paler and paler by the day. Now anyone could probably see the dark shadow under his eyes.

“Sit down."

Jinyoung obeyed. He let his gaze roam over his surroundings, taking note of the five small cups of coffee already filling the trash can, his boss’s unbuttoned jacket and the sweat on his forehead, the pile of papers messily arranged on the desk…

“We have a bit of a problem." Dongseok blurted out once they were face to face, turning his computer screen so Jinyoung could see

One glance was enough to recognise the ratings’ graph of the entire channel. 

“Well damn." Jinyoung couldn’t help as he finally saw with his own eyes the plunge Youngjae had talked about

“Yeah. I’m meeting Han Wontae in one hour and I need to act like I know exactly what to do about this, I’m running out of ideas, I’ve been here since seven."

Jinyoung squinted, examining the graph closer. 

After school, lunchtime and pre-primetime slots… Those were good windows.

Really ? Thinking about yourself again ? In this situation ? Wow.

Jinyoung bit his lip.

“Is that why you need me ?" he guessed, looking back at his boss. “You want ideas ?"

“No, I need you to come with me to the meeting with Wontae."

Jinyoung frowned.

“How’s that gonna help ?"

“Because if we take the data of all your shows in the past fifteen months, you’re the producer with the highest average performance in the entire Content Department."

Jinyoung felt his spine turn to stone. 

Oh no. That couldn’t be good.

He stared at Dongseok’s face, looking for any trace of a joke. He was only met with a stoic —if slightly erratic— wall of determination.

“I thought you ran out of ideas." he uttered, carefully, fighting the urge to bite his tongue

“Yeah. That means I’m gonna submit the one that sounds the best to Wontae."

Jinyoung took a slow breath before asking.

“What does it entail ?"

Dongseok leaned against the backrest of his chair, pointing at Jinyoung.

“You’re gonna take the reins. If you can’t save those shows, nobody can."

Jinyoung’s mouth suddenly felt cold. 

“Save those— you want me to… You want me to take over ?"

Dongseok nodded.

Well shit. That really wasn’t good. Now Jinyoung wished he was in science fiction movie, with the power to rewind the tape and go back to the morning, before he had heard one word of this conversation.

“How am I going to…" he was at a loss for words

“That’s what we’re going to see with Wontae."

Well, if Jinyoung had known he would spend his morning discussing with his boss’ boss how he would take over two of his colleagues’ shows —in front of said colleagues probably too— then he would have tried to sleep more than two hours. 

He locked himself in his office. He had about half an hour before taking the elevator to meet Han Wontae, and he needed every second of it to think.

If he knew being successful meant he would get thrown in this sort of high-responsibility situation, he would have aimed for slightly more mediocre performances. What the hell was he going to do now ?

He was preparing the new season of Bambam’s show, he had to pitch a new one and now he had to save his two seniors’. Four shows. Not including any specials that could come his way. Wait, more importantly, how was he going to walk into that office and face his seniors ? His colleagues ? Their teams ? He would have to talk to them after being introduced as the producer with the best performance —those were his senior colleagues.

His mind was spiralling out of control. At this rate, he wouldn’t be able to get one word out coherently in the meeting, he would just start screeching in everyone’s faces. He needed to calm down.

He couldn’t go to Jaebeom, his colleague was enjoying the afterglow of a successful pilot airing, this day was about him not Jinyoung. He couldn’t ask Bambam either, his show-runner had a lot on his plate already and that would mean disclosing information he wasn’t entirely sure he was supposed to know. That meant his team was also out of consideration. That left Youngjae and Jackson.

He grabbed his phone.

No. He couldn’t do this. Everyone was busy at work. It was selfish.

Call me, he typed quickly and sent before he could think twice. Yeah. He was really selfish.

Not one second later, his screen lit up with a picture of Jackson’s smiling face, from a day they went to eat by the river together.

“What happened ?" Jackson’s voice sounded alarmed

Jinyoung wondered if there was anything in the two words he sent that conveyed any sense of urgency. Or if maybe he wasn’t usually the first one to text.

“I’m losing my mind and I need to get my head to cool down in the next few minutes if I don’t want to freak out in front of Mister Top-of-the-food-chain."

"Should I run to find you ?"

“No, idiot, you’re on the other side of the building you can’t do that. Just tell me something, anything. Not a pep talk ! Really, anything but that, just say something."

Jinyoung knew he probably sounded off his rocker, and that if his door wasn’t locked someone would come to check up on him as soon as they heard the loud, frantic pacing.

He was half-expecting Jackson to disregard his demands and actually give him a pep talk, and say something like you can do this —Jinyoung would punch a wall if he heard that right now.

“I’m…" There were footsteps, Jackson was probably walking to another room, shit Jinyoung had interrupted his work. “I’m going to Busan at the end of the month, it was confirmed today. Remember, I told you ?"

“Yeah, the field station, conflicts of interest, you being the problem solver."

“Problem solver is a strong word."

“Why then ? Why do you think they’re sending you ?"

Jinyoung had no idea why he had almost cried out that last sentence. It felt like the words were being ripped out of his guts.

“Because they’re hoping I can do to the Busan station what I did to the central newsroom." Jackson replied calmly. “They didn’t say it like that, but it’s pretty obvious to me."

“Why do they trust you so much ? There are so many other people, older than you, higher than you, why you ?"

At this point, Jinyoung was rambling. He should stop before he said anything that could be misinterpreted. He could picture Jackson’s wide eyes, maybe even his tight lips, unsure of whether he was being complimented or insulted, walking on the tightrope to find the proper response.

“Because I never gave them a reason not to trust me."

“What if you did ? Not now but one day."

“Then they’d be right to stop sending me on these missions until I can prove I can do better."

“They’d always give you a second chance ?"

“No. Not always. There’s only one second chance, the one after that is already the third. If I kept messing up, they’d have to let me go."

Jinyoung brought his free hand to his face and rubbed his eyes.

“Isn’t that a ticking bomb ?"

At that, Jackson didn’t say anything. Jinyoung wasn’t sure if he was speechless or if he was waiting for him to elaborate. 

“What if you mess up in Busan ?" he kept rambling, desperately filling the silence. “Then what happens ?"

“Then they’ll say the team was beyond hope and they’ll cut everyone off to start again from scratch."

“So you have that power in your hand ? There are dozens of people who depend on you not messing up if they don’t want to be fired ?"

Jinyoung probably sounded way too aggressive to pretend he was asking out of simple curiosity. 

“It’s not power, Jinyoung."

The empty beat that followed felt too loud to Jinyoung’s ears.

"It’s a trial. Everyone’s on the same boat. Them. Me. My boss. Everyone."

Jinyoung stopped pacing.

He stalled, then let his knees buckle and fold, sitting on the ground with his legs against his chest.

“There’s always the option that I won’t mess up, you know ?"

Jinyoung wanted to smack himself.

“Of course there is…" he sighed. “It’s the most probable outcome, you’re gonna do a great job I’m sure."

“Yeah. Just gotta steer the boat in the right direction."

Jinyoung took one glance at the clock on his wall, above his desk, and blanched.

“Shit."

“Jinyoung."

“What ?"

He was already rushing towards the door.

“Grab a glass of water on your way out."

Jinyoung stilled, with his hand on the door knob. 

His chest felt tight. 

Of course.

This was Jackson.

He didn’t need pep talks. He didn’t even need explanations.

Words of apology were bubbling up, begging Jinyoung to be voiced out loud. Jackson would never accept them. I picked up the phone, didn’t I ? he would say.

“Thank you." Jinyoung said instead. “I’ll do my best to not get swallowed up whole."

Jackson laughed. It made Jinyoung’s muscles feel lighter.

“It’s too early for them to be hungry, you’ll be fine."

Jinyoung smiled. 

He had both feet on the ground now. 

Han Wontae was a tall man. Like, really tall, even sitting down he had to lower his gaze to look at the people in the room. Jinyoung always felt like there was no clearer reminder of the difference between them, and it was ironic that it came from a detail they both didn’t have any control over. Han Wontae was just tall.

Currently, it wasn’t Jinyoung who had to look up to meet his gaze, but Seo Beomjun and Choi Gyuri, the two senior producers next on the cutting board. They were sitting on the two chairs in front of Wontae’s desk, while Jinyoung, Youngjae and Dongseok were standing in the corner, with their backs against the wall. 

Jinyoung had his hands behind him and kept tapping his spine, as if that could ease his nerves. Dongseok hadn’t explained why he was there, even Youngjae had frowned when he joined them.

His friend looked slightly less dim than the day before, Jinyoung called that progress. He couldn’t tell if it was because he had let him sleep at his apartment or if it was just a less stressful day, but at least it made him breathe a little easier.

“The previsional loss we calculated is enough for the public to question the direction we’ll be taking after this." Wontae was saying when Jinyoung tuned back into the conversation, feeling his heart jump when his boss grabbed his arm and pushed him forward a little bit. “We have to rectify the course before the end of the second quarter, otherwise we won’t be able to label it as a flub."

Jinyoung swallowed. Well, that meant they only had three months. Before the summer reports.

Wontae’s gaze was steely, and passed from one producer to the other, before landing on Dongseok.

“So. Can we save this ? Or is it time for a full overhaul of the Content Department ?"

Dongseok pushed Jinyoung forward.

“We can start with a small overhaul."

All eyes in the room suddenly fell over him. Him, Park Jinyoung. He felt his lip tremble.

Beomjun and Gyuri’s gazes were cold, wary, they seemed to be scanning his face for a trace of any questionable intentions, or worse, for signs of arrogance. Wontae, however, was looking at him through half-closed eyes. Jinyoung wasn’t sure if it was because he couldn’t recognise him —he probably could, right ?— or if he was confused about how Jinyoung fit in the equation.

The other gaze on him was Youngjae’s, behind him. Jinyoung couldn’t see it but he could picture his tense shoulders, the worry in his eyes.

“Park Jinyoung." Wontae said, leaning over his desk. “Are you our magical ingredient ?"

Jinyoung wanted to say no absolutely not I wouldn’t dare to think that but he was interrupted by his boss.

“I suggest we give Jinyoung the task to revive the ratings on those slots. He can take over and draft a new content strategy."

Can I ? Jinyoung was tempted to retort. 

“All the slots ?" the doubt was perfectly legible on Wontae’s face. “What show are you running at the moment ?"

“Midas Garden." Jinyoung replied, trying to avoid all the eyes on him and just stare at the top of the big boss’ forehead. “But we’re on hiatus. Back in July."

Wontae turned to Youngjae with raised eyebrows. Youngjae nodded without a word.

“Midas Garden…" Wontae started playing with a pen. “Top ten entertainment programs in the country three years in a row, correct ?"

Jinyoung didn’t know what to say so he just… made a face. 

He could feel his seniors’ stares double in intensity.

“But isn’t that because Bambam is one of the most popular variety stars out there ?" Beomjun pointed out

Jinyoung’s stomach dropped.

He looked at his older colleague with wide, restless eyes.

Seo Beomjun was one of the first people Jinyoung had assisted on a show in the network, he had given him precious advice after precious advice, and always sent him holiday wishes. Jinyoung had tremendous respect for him.

“His Chuseok game show last year was the second highest rated on all domestic televisions." Youngjae argued

“Bambam was part of it too. Not alone, sure, but you can’t say it didn’t help. Maybe the solution is just to put Bambam everywhere ?"

Jinyoung wanted to run out of the room. Or dump a bucketload of coffee on the floor. Or push the fire alarm.

“Or maybe" he blurted out before his common sense could be called to the rescue. “The audience has changed and the strategy is not up-to-date anymore."

The room fell silent. Jinyoung didn’t dare meet the eyes of his seniors, he wanted to look at Youngjae but that would look very strange, so he just stared right at Wontae’s face.

Wontae nodded.

“That’s undeniable. We’re talking about shows that started running at the beginning of the previous administration, it’s a different world."

“So what ?" Gyuri spoke up for the first time. “You’re gonna dump two shows on him ? Does he have the shoulders for that ? He won’t catch more than an hour of sleep every night."

Jinyoung had never worked with Choi Gyuri. Jaebeom had, though, and they were really friendly with each other. 

“No." Dongseok shook his head. “Jinyoung wouldn’t take over the producer chair, he’ll be your consultant. I would give him the authority to draft any new proposal for each of the two shows, to submit to me for approval."

That just meant being a producer in the shadows. With no actual financial responsibilities, just giving orders and steering the show in the direction he wanted. This was the recipe for making enemies. Maybe it was best for Jinyoung to back out now.

But… if he backed out… he would miss the opportunity to grab onto the next step of his career. He could be diplomatic, right ? He could take the offer and not piss anyone off ?

What happens if I say no ? He couldn’t voice the question out loud. He wasn’t in the position to weigh in the decision. He couldn’t back out, but if he did, he would condemn his two colleagues to be cancelled completely and put into the limbo of not getting any new shows approved for years, until they’d resign and quit the business. 

He had to think of everyone who depended on him. Bambam, Mark, Yugyeom, Eunji. They were his team, if Jinyoung benefitted from the offer then so would they. 

“Youngjae ?" Wontae consulted once more. “Verdict ?"

Jinyoung turned around to look at his friend. Of course he’d be the final voice. The performance data was the vital determinator of every single decision made in the building. 

“I think it’s a safe bet. Even if it doesn’t work out, we still have more radical options to fall back on."

Translation, as Jackson said, if Jinyoung failed they’ll say the team was beyond hope and cut everyone off to start again from scratch. Jinyoung had the future of two teams, and his own, under his responsibility. 

“Well then, Park Jinyoung." Wontae clapped his hands. “I’ll give you until the summer reports, then we reconvene here to see the results."

Dongseok patted Jinyoung’s back on his way out of the office, Youngjae gave him a small smile. 

Jinyoung’s hands were shaking.

“Thank you for the opportunity." he said to dismiss himself from Han Wontae, and left behind everybody else

Jackson was right. They were all on the same boat. And Jinyoung was the captain now. He couldn’t spare a penny to the thoughts of enemies. There might be a price to pay but if he saved the ship, that was all that mattered. He owed it to everyone on board with him.

He took a deep breath, eased the tension in his face until he knew his gaze looked assured and sped up his pace to catch up with his colleagues. 

With a loop and a slide, he bypassed everyone smoothly until he could turn around to face them, right as they stopped in front of the elevator.

“Send me all your recent tapes and preparation files." he told Beomjun and Gyuri. “Everything you have on your last three seasons. I’ll call you next week to arrange a meeting."

Jinyoung did not miss the flash of worry in Youngjae’s eyes.

Are you gonna spend the weekend holed up in your bedroom ? his friend texted him after they parted.

What other options do I have ? he replied.

You have a team.

He did. And he owed them a success.

The positive thing about Dongseok and Wontae being so desperate to save their plunging ratings, was that they cleared Jinyoung’s requests in no time.

Bringing network materials at home was a paperwork nightmare, especially when it came to tapes. Jinyoung was already planning to get an access pass to the building for the weekend, so he could review the tapes his colleagues brought him in his office. He was surprised when his boss sent him the approval notice for him to bring everything home, as well as the password to the archive network for the materials that had already been digitalised. 

It almost made him feel like a VIP.

Hence why he was now sitting crossed-legged on the couch, in his most comfortable sweatpants, a bowl of cereals on his lap and his second cup of coffee in the hand that wasn’t holding the television remote. At eight in the morning. On a Saturday. 

He had invited his grandmother to watch with him, since she loved old variety shows and since her perspective was purely devoid of any production concerns. She was next to him, wrapped in her big wool shawl that made her look like a pink cocoon. Jinyoung took mental notes, with a smile, of everything that made her giggle.

He had decided to start with Choi Gyuri’s pre-primetime show. That slot was the most critical, and given that Seo Beomjun didn’t seem very keen on working with him, he gambled on the chance that getting Gyuri to warm up to him first would increase his chances of earning his senior’s cooperation. 

Gyuri’s was a variety cooking show, classic though a bit old-fashioned, a revamp of a show she had conducted once before —two presidential elections ago as Wontae had so kindly pointed out— before leaving it for years to pursue her passion project, a house makeover show that only ran three years until it was cut for budget. 

The premise was painfully simple : three celebrities —one comedian, one singer, one actor—- cooking various recipes with a different secret challenge each week. 

Jinyoung and his grandmother were starting the fourth episode of the old version of the show when the doorbell rang. They exchanged a confused look. Jinyoung hadn’t called for delivery.

He got up from the couch and jogged to his door. One glance at the intercom camera was enough to identify the familiar face.

“What are you doing here ?" he blurted out as soon as he let Jackson inside. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming ?"

“I did but you never answered."

The strong perfume his friend was wearing wrapped around Jinyoung. Jackson was carrying two plastic bags, one in each hand. His skin had a fresh glow, as if his cheeks had been bitten by the soft cold of early spring.

“I didn’t think anyone would need me during the weekend." Jinyoung mumbled

“You shouldn’t leave it on silent for so long. What if there’s an emergency ?"

Jinyoung rolled his eyes. He took Jackson’s leather jacket for him and pointed at what his friend was carrying.

“What’s all this ?"

“Lunch !" Jackson beamed, holding up the bags. “Youngjae told me you were planning to spend your whole weekend working and we both know you’re gonna on panic mode if you have to choose between taking an hour off to cook or letting Grandma starve so, here."

Jinyoung had no words. 

Jackson made his way to the kitchen, to put down all the bags, but Jinyoung just stood there, door still unlocked. 

His friend had come all this way. On a Saturday. Because he knew Jinyoung had terrible time management and an even worse sense of priorities. 

“Jackson, darling !" he heard his Grandma coo in the living room

“Mrs Park ! How are you ?" came Jackson’s immediately cheerful reply 

He stepped into the room to see Jackson kneeling next to the couch, where is grandmother was sitting and gushing over how handsome he looked. 

“How’s the hospital treating you ?" Jackson asked with the sweetest smile on his face. “Did you see the handsome doctor again ?"

Jinyoung bit back the urge to bask in the scene for a few seconds, how his grandmother was patting Jackson’s shoulder, how Jackson was holding one of her hands —he dashed forward.

“Hey, hey" he exclaimed, putting his hand in front of his friend’s face. “Don’t encourage her, I’m the one who has to stand in the room when she tries to flirt with him, you don’t know what it’s like."

That earned him a light smack on the butt from his grandmother. 

Jackson burst out laughing, holding Jinyoung’s hand to help himself back on his feet. He leaned over Jinyoung’s shoulder, holding his stomach as he almost stumbled from the laughter.

“My poor baby…" he said in a whiny voice, patting Jinyoung’s hair. “You could go on double dates with your grandmother but you’re married to the job."

It was Jinyoung’s turn to smack him. 

“Are you staying ?" he asked instead, not wanting to feed the other two’s teasing

“Do you need me to ?"

Jinyoung glanced at his grandmother, who had turned all giddy since Jackson had entered the room. She would probably like the company… she liked Jackson the most out of all his friends, maybe liked him more than her own children he suspected sometimes. And it would help to have someone else’s perspective, he could ask Jackson’s opinion on the spot, he was a very different kind of audience compared to his grandmother, in age and in taste, and he was harder to please.

“Yes. I do."

He didn’t even ask if Jackson had other plans. He would have said it already, right ? He wouldn’t have offered to stay. 

They sat on the couch again, Jinyoung’s grandmother between the two of them. It only took a minute of watching the show, before Jackson’s first comment.

“Who’s that ?" he frowned, pointing at one of the celebrity guests

“A singer. He was pretty popular ten years ago. I have no idea where he’s at these days." Jinyoung replied without thinking too much about it

The show felt quite dated, but it wasn’t exactly surprising, the episode was eight years old now. 

An hour later, Jackson excused himself to the kitchen, to prepare the lunch he had brought. Jinyoung didn’t tear his eyes away from the screen.

“What a sweet boy." his grandmother sighed, nudging him

Jinyoung chuckled, still not glancing away from the show.

“Sweeter than Doctor Yoo ?’’

“He’s more handsome than Doctor Yoo ! And he can cook."

The laugh that escaped Jinyoung’s lips was a little louder this time.

“Please don’t get a crush on my friend" he joked. “That’s even more awkward than the doctor."

“I know, I know."

Not long after, Jackson was back with a plate of food for everybody.

Jinyoung looked away from the screen a second to smile at his friend, who was pouring a glass of water for his grandmother.

He was quite lucky, really.

“She looks good." Jackson commented when they both stepped outside, later that evening

It was dark, the chill of the wind was making Jinyoung shiver. Jackson had spent the whole day with them in the end, Jinyoung was glad, he had taken many notes of his friend’s comments about the show. Now, they had decided to go for a walk. Technically, it was Jackson who had dragged him out, saying it wasn’t good to stay inside the whole day.

“She’s been eating and sleeping well." Jinyoung hummed. “The doctor says she could go back to Jinhae sooner than we expected."

Jinyoung’s neighbourhood wasn’t the liveliest. The nearest convenience store was a few blocks away, and there weren’t any bars. It was quiet. The two of them walked side by side, hands in their pockets to protect them from the last shivers of winter, their shoulders knocking from time to time.

“Your parents must be happy to hear that."

Jinyoung grimaced.

“Haven’t told them yet."

Jackson looked up at him with wide, soft eyes.

“I won’t tell them until it’s a hundred percent confirmed." Jinyoung added. “I’m not trying to take them on a rollercoaster."

Jackson nodded. He took his hand out of his pocket to hook his arm with Jinyoung’s, bringing their shoulders together.

“You’re doing great."

Jinyoung bit back a sad smile at those words. He wasn’t, actually. It was natural. He was only trying his best.

He had taken in his grandmother around a year ago. He had been the one to suggest it when his parents had told him about the battery of treatments she would have to undergo. He lived close to a reputable hospital, it would spare his parents the constant commute and worry. Plus, he wasn’t against the company, he got along well with his grandmother and he knew she didn’t enjoy feeling like a slot in other people’s timetables. 

“Am I ?" he whispered, although only Jackson would have heard him if he had spoken out loud. “Is that why they’re feeding me to two of my senior producers ?"

“Yeah. They wouldn’t gamble with their chances if you weren’t the best card in their stack."

Yes. That made sense. 

It did, right ?

Jinyoung stopped in his tracks, bringing Jackson to a halt as well through their connected arms. He looked at his friend in the eyes.

Jackson’s face was peaceful. There was no cloud of concern, no question in his eyes. Just calm, balanced patience. He was looking at Jinyoung like one looks at the traffic lights, waiting for the green to appear knowing it would invariably happen. 

But before Jinyoung could think of words to put on the restless buzzing in the back of his head, his phone pinged with a text notification.

“It’s Jiwon." he told Jackson after checking

“She stopped ghosting you ?"

“It’s intermittent, but she’s trying."

Jinyoung hadn’t exactly meant for Jackson to find out, if he was perfectly honest. His friends and colleagues knew about his grandmother, either because they had visited or because Jinyoung had excused himself from a gathering at some point to meet her. However, he hadn’t planned to share the rest of the things on his mind. Because it wasn’t typical of him. 

But Jackson had a tendency to be there when he was wavering. It was almost as if he had an alarm that went off when Jinyoung’s stress levels reached a certain threshold.

That day, Jinyoung had downed four cups of coffee in the blink of an eye. His hands were shaking, he had locked himself in an empty editing room, with the pretext that he had to check the spelling of some captions for the last episode of the season.

Jackson had found him on the floor, his knees to his chest, while the episode played loudly on the editing monitors. Why was he here, so far from his own side of the building, Jinyoung hadn’t even thought to ask. Instead, he had opened his arms and allowed his friend to engulf him in a quiet hug. No one else had to know. 

That day, Jackson had brought him home. He hadn’t even pressed. Jinyoung just poured out all the answers without being prompted, knowing that it was a matter of time before Jackson would interrogate him. 

He had told him how he was sick to his stomach, waiting for his sister to pick up his calls or text him back. How she had just been dumped by someone she had been in a relationship with for twelve years, how they had moved in together long ago but the apartment wasn’t hers, how he had called his parents to know if she was with them but they said she hadn’t visited in weeks. He had cried, and Jackson had wiped every single one of his tears without a word. Then, he had asked him to stay the night because he just couldn’t stand the silence. Jackson had said yes.

That night, Jiwon had finally called back. And Jackson had held him before he tripped over himself trying to grab his phone as quickly as possible.

“Are you gonna be in time to catch your bus ?" Jinyoung asked as he opened his sister’s message

“Yes, don’t worry, it’s not that late."

Jinyoung nodded. 

“Will you be back tomorrow ?"

The corner of Jackson’s lip lifted up ever so slightly. Jinyoung braced for the teasing.

“Do you need me to ?"

That question again.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for Busan ?"

“I still have two weeks."

Two weeks… 

This wasn’t Jackson’s longest trip to date —he had once been sent to the US for three months— nor was it the one that would bring him the farthest away, and yet Jinyoung felt a twinge in his heart at the reminder of the countdown ahead of them. Two weeks.

The idea of putting his thoughts into words sent shivers down his spine. 

“Then yeah, I need you tomorrow." he said instead

Jinyoung emerged from the weekend with a cloudy, pounding heart. 

He couldn’t finish watching all the tapes in two days, that would have been absolutely impossible even if he had sacrificed all his meals and hours of sleep. This meant he now had to manage his day at work between his duties to his team and his new, daunting mission.

When the elevator doors opened, announcing he had reached the twelfth floor, Jinyoung caught a glimpse of an obnoxiously red fleece jacket —one he had seen on screen enough times in the past two days to give him a headache.

Shit. Choi Gyuri was right there, with her back turned to him. There was no way he could cross the hall and get to his office without bumping into her. 

Now. Jinyoung was a producer. He had earned his stripes, right ? She was a senior, but Jinyoung could go up to her, smile politely, greet her and make small talk… right ?

No. He dashed the other way. Guess he would have to pay Jaebeom a visit first.

“Is this your way of reminding me I still owe you nine coffees ?" his colleague joked

It really wasn’t, but Jinyoung didn’t mention that.

“Alright, what did you guys find out ?"

For his first meeting of the week, he had called a Type B. Bambam had some errands to run at the consulate, so Jinyoung had taken advantage of his absence to gather Mark, Eunji and Yugyeom in his office.

“Not much…" Eunji sighed, looking at her notebook page that only had a few scribbles on it. “People only know about the plans through the second quarter, that’s too short a notice for us to pitch something."

Jinyoung nodded. That was true, they’d be lucky if they managed to pitch for this year actually, he would have to tell Bambam to set his sights on the next one.

“Yeah." Mark shook his head. “I also didn’t hear anything new."

Jinyoung turned to Yugyeom, but his gaze was already starting to get lost in a spiral of his own thoughts. Should he tell them about Beomjun and Gyuri ? They were bound to find out, the rumour mill had somehow managed to keep quiet so far but it was only Monday morning.

“I asked again about the travel show." Yugyeom said, with a proud smile. “I was right, they’re pulling it out of after school until the end of the summer, and then it’s rumoured it won’t get renewed for the fall."

Jinyoung bit his lip. 

Yep. That was information he also got wind of.

“How much notice will they give them ?" Mark frowned. “If they’re supposed to air again in September, when will they have time to prep and shoot ?"

Mark’s job was to carry most of their shoot preparations, it made sense he would be the one to bring that up.

“They’re not getting renewed." Eunji realised out loud, her eyes growing as they landed on Jinyoung, who was doing his best at channeling the emotional range of a washboard. “They wouldn’t renew a show for a graveyard shift, so if they still didn’t give any news…"

Jinyoung nodded slowly. 

“They could give them a last minute notice." Yugyeom reasoned. “It has happened before."

“Not for an after school show. They need to secure advertisers."

There were three shows on the cutting board. Jinyoung had been given the task to save two of them. It didn’t take a genius to guess which of the three was getting cancelled. The move to a graveyard shift was akin to a slow, anticlimactic death sentence in this industry. 

“If we pitched a show for that same slot…" Eunji was drawing on her notepad as she spoke, as if she needed a visual explanation for the thoughts she was only starting to form in her head. “Wouldn’t that precipitate their fate ?"

Jinyoung held his breath.

The power at the tip of his tongue, the might of his own hand… Eunji was right. He had information on three crucial slots and he was responsible in part for the fate of two of them. If he wanted to, he could just tell Dongseok he had a way to save the ratings, by pitching his own show. Bambam was a goldmine for the network, they’d probably say yes over any renewal option for his seniors’ shows. He had the power to take anything he wanted away from them.

He shuddered. That earned his some confused stares from his teammates.

Should he say anything ? He couldn’t brush off the information they had brought to him —though it wasn’t any news to him— they would immediately be suspicious if he acted like it wasn’t a pressing matter.

“I’ll talk to Bambam." he decided instead. “There’s still the chance I might convince him to take a holiday to clear his head, so let’s not rush into anything just yet. I’ll call you guys up again if he wants to push through with it."

They all nodded and agreed to see each other again for their production meeting in the early afternoon. Just as easy as that, Jinyoung was alone again.

Well, well. That was not a situation he had signed up for when he had joined the network. 

With great power comes great responsibility sounded a lot cooler when it was about slinging super-teenagers and not a high-stakes crossroad in his career.

He had two options : either convince Bambam to wait until the official decision regarding the fate of their seniors’ shows or put his own interests first and focus their team’s efforts on a new pitch.

This felt like a very twisted question on those internet personality quizzes. 

Wontae and Dongseok cared about ratings, about how well the channel was doing. For them, it was more about shows than about the people running them. A new program helmed by Bambam would appeal to them, but Jinyoung might have to dig deep into his heart to find the most villainous edges of his soul. He had never thought of himself as a kind person, but he wasn’t ruthless. His friends came first, that was obvious, but if there was one thing that never gave him peace of mind, it was the idea that whatever action he might put out in the world would come with a reckoning.

A trickster getting tricked, a cheater getting cheated, a liar being deceived, how the mighty fall. 

What if he did go behind his seniors’ backs and what if life waited patiently to send him his ironic comeuppance in the form of a younger colleague who’d come and steal everything from him ? 

The way he saw it, with two options there could only be two outcomes.

If he went the honest way and put his seniors’ shows first, he would be stuck in a tilting scale trying to find its balance : it could either give his career a hit if he failed, or it could advance his reputation if he succeeded.

However, if he decided to put Bambam and himself first, he’d have the best and the worst in each hand simultaneously : it would critically advance his career and kill his reputation, at the same time.

Am I a good person ? Am I that cruel and selfish that I’m actually sitting here considering both options as equals ?

Maybe that was Jinyoung’s biggest trial at this point of his life : coming to terms with the idea that he was an awful human being.

His phone buzzed, making him quite literally jump out of his thought bubble.

Are you at work now ?

It was a text from his sister. Jinyoung’s muscles relaxed like butter under the sun.

Instead of replying, he opened their conversation and pressed on the call button. 

“Why are you calling, please tell me you’re not at work, I wasn’t trying to disturb you—" Jiwon pretty much shrieked and Jinyoung knew she was half hoping he wouldn’t actually see her text

“Why aren’t you at work ?" he retorted

Silence. 

Ah. Bullseye.

“Did you call in sick ?" he guessed, getting up from his desk to start pacing around his office, as if that would move along his train of thinking

“I asked for my shifts to move later in the day. My new colleague has night lessons so she was okay with it."

Jinyoung hummed.

“Is that because it’s easier to be home alone in the morning ?"

Silence again.

“Fuck you."

Jinyoung’s stomach dropped. He froze, halting his steps.

His sister let out a humourless laugh, that rang like gunfire in Jinyoung’s ears.

“I hate you sometimes…" she whined. “Why can’t you ask about the weather and dance around the subject like Mom and Dad do ?"

Jinyoung breathed out, his heartbeat steadying a bit. He chuckled briefly.

“You wouldn’t call me in the morning on a Monday if you wanted to talk about the weather."

There was another second without a response. Jinyoung hated it. He wanted to see his sister’s face, to read her eyes, but he knew her well enough to not ask to switch to a video call —she would only show him her eyebrows from behind the nearest object she’d find to cover her face. 

“It’s so quiet here…" she said softly, almost in a whisper

Jinyoung nodded, even though she couldn’t see him.

“I’m usually still asleep at this hour." she continued. “But the neighbours were drilling holes in the wall, and now I’m just… walking around the kitchen."

Jinyoung could imagine it. He had never been in the apartment she had managed to find after her breakup, but he remembered how she always used to just… walk in circles… every time she felt like there was too much in her head.

Well… it was also the exact same thing he was doing at the moment. 

“The fridge is full…" her voice sounded distant, as if she meant to be talking to herself but couldn’t stand to hear the sound reverberate in the void. “I don’t even have to go out to buy food. Everything’s clean… I don’t know what to do."

“Switch on the television ?" Jinyoung suggested. “Watch a movie ?"

“The TV isn’t connected yet."

Jinyoung knew where this was going. Jiwon probably didn’t even realise it herself, but she was just about to fill the silence aimlessly until something came up to put her hands at work. She had disappeared on him too many times during the past weeks, so he wasn’t about to hang up in her face, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t see right through her.

“Why don’t you go home for a bit ?" he said

Home. Maybe he shouldn’t have used that word, when she had just lost the place she used to call that. He meant their parents’ house, obviously, but he couldn’t be sure that her mind didn’t jump to a different conclusion at first.

“I can’t." she sighed. “I’m in my thirties, Jinyoung. What do you think they’ll say if I move back with my parents because I got my heart broken ?"

Who’s “they"? Jinyoung wanted to retort but decided against it.

“Can you imagine ?" she scoffed before he could answer her —surely rhetorical— question. “I can hear the neighbours already. Look at that poor girl, thrown out of her house, she wasn’t smart enough to see through that man, she never should have left her own apartment to move in with him…"

Jinyoung closed his eyes, taking a long, slow breath through his nose.

“There’s no shame in seeking comfort" he said, so low he wondered if he had only uttered for himself. “It would be cruel to take that away from you."

“Jinyoung, keyword : I’m in my thirties."

And so what ? Jinyoung wasn’t so far from them as well. If their roles were reversed, would she tell him to suck it up and save face ? 

But if the roles were reversed, wouldn’t Jinyoung have just as much pride ? They were siblings for a reason, wouldn’t he deny himself the help and comfort he needed ?

Was he just a simple player in a mascarade, convinced he was the only one self-aware enough to see through people’s masks ? Did he have too high an opinion of himself ? That wasn’t unlikely.

“I have Subak, that’s enough company for me." she concluded, referring to her two-year old Havanese dog who had separation issues and a tendency to steal people’s shoes 

“Yeah, that’s exactly why you’re calling me right now."

Before Jinyoung could bite his words back, he was smacked in the face by his sister’s silence.

Shit. He hadn’t meant for the words to come out so dry. He wanted to make a light-hearted joke about Subak not being a good listener but he should have just kept his mouth shut.

Stupid, stupid.

“I’m calling you because you always throw a fit when I disappear on you, I didn’t realise you already knew what I want so much better than me."

Jinyoung rubbed his face. He should apologise. He really should—

“But if you want to be fair here" Jiwon continued before Jinyoung could finish his thought, “maybe I’m not the one who needs to go home for a bit. Maybe there’s someone else who hasn’t set one foot anywhere near Jinhae in years, someone who’s too busy with events to leave work even for Christmas. Someone who’s never here and yet takes up every single conversation like he’s a hero in the stars or something."

Jinyoung’s hand jerked. 

He couldn’t cry. He couldn’t show up to his next meeting with red eyes and marked cheeks. 

But right now, all he wanted was to crumble to the floor in so many pieces that he could never be built back up again, dust to be blown away by the cleaning staff and forgotten.

His lip trembled, in search for words to retort.

Sorry ? Fuck you ? What the hell are you talking about ? 

Too many thoughts hurled themselves at him, and yet he couldn’t make sense of any of them, like snow on a television screen.

His finger moved on its own. He pressed the red button on his phone and the room fell silent.

He had hung up in his sister’s face.

His hands were shaking. 

He wanted to turn off his phone completely, or put it on silent, but he couldn’t. He needed to be reachable at all times by any of his colleagues or bosses.

He didn’t want to be at work right now. He didn’t even want to be home. He didn’t want to be. 

If he needed his physical body to host all his thoughts and emotions, then he didn’t want to be incarnate in this instant. He wanted to be air, maybe it would make it easier to breathe. He wanted to be stone, so the cracks could be painless.

Movies had a running theme, red threads that tied everything together onto a deeper layer of meaning. Jinyoung’s life wasn’t a movie, otherwise he would have hit pause and rewind or fast-forward a long time ago, but today’s red thread was that he was a terrible person.

He was selfish and cruel to think of Bambam’s interests when his seniors’ life and career hung over the sea, walking the plank as Jinyoung —ever the ship captain— decided whether to save them or let them jump overboard.

He was selfish and cruel to worry his friends over things so simple as his sleep schedule, his food intake, just because he wasn’t mature and responsible enough to handle those things properly by himself. 

He was selfish and cruel to demand regular updates about his sister —his older sister, who knew so much more than him— when he never gave any besides the occasional report of his grandmother’s wellbeing and medical progress.

He was a selfish and cruel prodigal son.

He was an opportunist who got handed the keys to the kingdom.

For someone who always compared himself to the captain of a pirate ship, he sure had no claim to the title. He might have stolen it from someone for all they knew, he might have cheated it out of its rightful holder, who had been too naive to play a game against Jinyoung’s weighed dices.

And yet, all of this self-deprecation still brought him nowhere near an answer to his problem. 

What should he do ?

Accept that he was just that, selfish and cruel, and lean into it ? Be ruthless, take what he needed to take to advance himself and his team ? Or decide he was better than this, repent and strive to earn his forgiveness by putting his energy into helping others reach their safe ground ? 

Perhaps it spoke to just how terrible of a person he was that he couldn’t decide on one of his two options. 

Jinyoung didn’t dare look up.

All the walls were covered in shiny glass. He didn’t want to see his face. What would it even reflect ? A distorted, tired, hollow set of features ? A mask of dutiful, angelic grace covering rotten malice ? 

If this was a movie, Jinyoung knew what came next. It was painfully predictable.