Chapter Text
It starts very minor.
Really, it’s almost nothing, Zhang Hao tried to reason with himself. But for all his talents he’s never been good at lying, especially to himself. Something was… off, about the situation, and it was only getting worse and worse.
Being officially put in the group meant a sudden whirlwind of names and faces to meet and remember. In the midst of the sudden transition from Boys Planet contestant to actual, debuted idol they were suddenly moving into a dorm, being pushed and pulled into PR meetings for some hasty media-training, and attempting to learn their songs and choreography.
For the most part the members of their new staff were friendly and enthusiastic, even if they quickly started to look as harried as the members themselves were feeling with all the abrupt changes. However, there were a few… exceptions.
One of the makeup-noonas was already notorious for her rough hands and rougher words; their new dance instructor could be short-tempered and unfair. Nothing too egregious, and Hanbin had quickly rallied them into sending each other knowing looks and eyerolls behind their backs instead of taking it to heart; said staff’s misbehavior turned into a bit of team-bonding through Hanbin’s deft hand at handling social situations and his unrelenting positivity.
The older boys ran interference when they could and life continued on.
On the other hand, the managers were quickly becoming like family as well. It often felt like they were down in the trenches with the members rather than the outsider (both positive and negative) forces the other staff felt like.
Gunwook and Jiwoong in particular seemed to appreciate the steady presence of their four managers. Gunwook is so young and tries so hard, and unlike Yujin he didn’t have the luck to debut with someone like Gyuvin who was, at this point, functionally the maknae’s older brother. Meanwhile, Jiwoong is happy to have some people he describes as closer to his age and ‘y’know, actual adults’ around to help manage the younger ones as he settles into his new role as oldest.
Hao’s light-hearted attempt to point out to Jiwoong he is only a few years younger is met with awkward fondness and a ruffling of his hair that doesn’t feel like Jiwoong believed him at all. Gunwook is his roommate and Hao is learning how to take care of him but figuring out the right balance of supportive-but-not-overbearing takes time.
Hao tries his best to bridge the gap-- they all do-- but between the constant changes it gets shuffled down the priority line. So, Gunwook and Jiwoong get closer to the managers than the others, in particular a man named Park Mujin.
This normally wouldn’t be a problem. In fact, it was probably a good thing for some of the members to have someone outside the members to feel safe and comfortable with. Jiwoong had someone who felt more like a peer and Gunwook had his own pseudo-brother to rely on. Zhang Hao was truly happy for them to find people to rely on.
If only it had been anyone else.
Because Park Mujin did not like Zhang Hao.
And that was fine! Though honestly not used to being disliked, it had happened before. Despite what Jiwoong said, Hao was an adult and could deal with being treated less kindly than his members. And at first, that’s all it was! Mujin scowling or cutting him off when Hao entered the conversation or conveniently ‘forgetting’ to get Hao the coffee he requested despite remembering everyone else’s absurdly complicated order. It’s honestly not even as bad as that one makeup noona, so Hao shrugs it off and continues onward.
Then came the weird barbs against his nationality.
Hao had kind of expected this, if he was being perfectly honest. Hao wasn’t an idiot; he knew he had got the center spot against the wishes of some of the group-makers. He had lived in Korea for a few years now, and he was no stranger to comments foreigners could get. He had dealt with snotty and passive-aggressive to outright hostile remarks made to himself and the other foreign Yuehua trainees. So, while this is frustrating and disappointing, it’s not unexpected.
Hao mentally promises to keep a close eye on Ricky and Matthew (just in case) when they had to interact with Mujin, but unless the manager said or did something to one of them in front of Hao, it didn’t seem worth it to bring up to Hanbin. The younger man was already feeling such incredible pressure as he was thrust into leadership, the last thing Hao wanted was to cause any additional worries for him.
When Hao tried to subtly broach the subject with Ricky on a break during practice, vaguely asking if anyone was giving him trouble, Ricky had seemed confused.
“I mean, as always, Gyuvin is giving me shit,” Ricky had said with a laugh, loudly enough for said boy to overhear and squawk indignantly. Hao tried to smile along with the others, but his worry wouldn’t settle until he was sure Ricky was fine.
“But that’s it?” Hao pressed, trying to keep his tone light and casual. Ricky narrowed his eyes in concern and Hao tried to hide a wince. He obviously hadn’t been as subtle as he hoped.
“That’s it, ge. But is something going on with you?” Ricky volleyed back.
“Something’s going on with Hao?” Taerae asked in concern. Jiwoong and Hanbin started to look worried as they wandered over to join their conversation.
“No! No, things are fine. Really!” Hao says, too loud in his desperation for this not to become a whole thing to be believable. Hanbin tilted his head with his serious-leader-look that Hao had been trying his utmost to avoid causing.
“Really,” Hao reiterates firmly, trying to project the reassuring unflappable confidence he typically wore around the younger Yuehua trainees.
No one looked especially reassured and Hanbin in particular shot Hao a look, but it was enough for them to back off as their break ended and they resumed practice.
The occasional barb became a near constant commentary on Hao’s mastery of Korean from Mujin. Now, Hao knew he had room to improve. He had never backed down from a challenge and wanted to speak as well as a native. But he also knew he wasn’t in any way bad at Korean, especially considering the timeline he had been learning on.
“Hao!” Mujin had snapped when he saw Hao alone in the practice room, lingering over a book while he stalled on joining his members, hopefully giving Gunwook time to take a shower before he got home.
Hao looked up, surprised.
“Yes?” He asked politely, closing the TOPIK study book he had been diligently pouring over and bracing himself for whatever comment the manager was about to make. Sure enough:
“Why aren’t you back at the dorms with the others?” Before Hao had a chance to explain, Mujin continued. “Whatever. I needed to talk to you anyway. You’re falling behind on your Korean. I heard you at the PR training meeting and Ricky and Matthew talked circles around you. I can barely understand what you’re talking about half the time. Why don’t you take studying seriously? Think because you got first you’re above that?”
Hao almost laughed incredulously at being scolded for not taking studying seriously while his studying was currently being interrupted but managed to stifle it. His silence must have gone on a bit too long while he struggled not to laugh, because after a few seconds Mujin slammed a fist into the mirror next to where he was standing, above Hao’s head.
Hao flinched wildly, shocked at this unexpected display. Mujin had been bitchy and mean-spirited but this was the first time he had been anything even close to violent.
Wide-eyed, Hao looked up and met Mujin’s eyes. The man looked furious, the contempt that normally simmered in the back of gaze at the forefront of his glare. Dread pooled into Hao’s stomach as he frantically thought of a way to defuse this situation, but his mind was frustratingly blank.
Before he could even begin to formulate a response, a tentative “Hyung?” rang out from the open door.
Mujin and Hao both whipped their gazes to a hesitant Gunwook lurking in the doorway, who had apparently not gotten a headstart on his shower like Hao had hoped.
Before Hao could process any of the last few seconds Mujin’s entire demeanor drastically changed and he smiled so big and fondly that Hao had trouble recognizing him.
“Gunwook! Hey, kiddo. What do you need?” The manager asked, sounding friendly and relaxed.
Gunwook smiled back. “Oh, I thought I heard a noise when I was about to head out, and I was worried something might’ve happened to Hao-hyung.”
Mujin made a dismissive noise. “Not at all! Right, Hao-yah?”
Hao yet again took an extra beat to answer and Gunwook’s brow began to furrow in concern but he managed to pull it together enough to reassure the younger that he was fine. Mujin brushed forward, throwing an arm around Gunwook and leading him out of the practice room without a backwards glance at Hao.
“You must be hungry! How about hyung treats you to dinner? You’ve been working so hard.” Mujin said.
“Oh, that sounds great.” Gunwook said tiredly. “What about Hao-hyung? Isn’t he hungry?”
“No, no, he told me he wasn’t hungry at all. Come on, tell me about vocal practice?” Successfully distracted, Mujin led a chattering Gunwook towards the exit.
Hao just blinks again, this time letting out his incredulous laugh. That had felt surreal and he wasn’t entirely sure how to process it. The way Mujin had completely switched off his anger, not letting Gunwook see even a hint of it felt insidious and unnerving. While Hao was glad Gunwook hadn’t witnessed the scene, it didn’t bode well for future interactions with Mujin. What if that flip switched when he was with one of the kids?
This was big enough that Hao felt he was no longer justified in not bringing it to Hanbin. With a grimace Hao stood and stretched as he considered how to best have a talk that he really, really didn’t want to.
Hao was a problem-solver, always had been, and thus decided that if he was going to trouble Hanbin about this he’d do it properly. This meant making sure that he had truly tried as many avenues as possible to solve this on his own as possible.
After all, Hao's dedication to mastering Korean etiquette meant that there was still some doubt lingering at the back of his mind: maybe Hao had managed to offend Mujin in some profound way and he just didn’t realize? His mind went round and round as he tried to come up with a way this could be his fault-- and thus solely within his abilities to fix.
So, Hao decided to start there. Really try with Mujin in a way he hadn’t since he began encountering the hostility. Maybe bring Gunkwook around as a buffer and to try and observe just what the younger was doing differently than him to engender such a different reception.
Resolve hardened by the possible non-dramatic solution, Hao squared his shoulders, nodded to himself, and vowed to start first thing tomorrow.
They had practice early the next morning so Hao forced himself out of bed even earlier than usual. Hao was not a morning person, and maybe his lethargic disposition had somehow upset Mujin? Hanbin did a joking triple-take at seeing Hao awake and downing coffee before any of the other had emerged. Hao lazily stuck his tongue out and tried unsuccessfully to blink the sleepiness away as he plopped down in an empty seat at the kitchen table.
It wasn’t long before the others emerged, Gyuvin plastering himself to Hao’s back and making grabby hands at his mug. With an eye-roll, Hao relented and let Gyuvin take a sip. Just as Jiwoong emerged from his room, looking unfairly artfully disheveled as opposed to the bleary mess the rest of them were, Mujin arrived. The manager didn’t bother to knock as he opened the door, eyes scanning over them as he counted them up.
When Mujin’s eyes met Hao’s they turned a few degrees cooler and his mouth turned down into a light sneer.
“Awake on time for once, are we, Hao-yah?” Mujin asked mockingly. Hao did his best to smile placidly back while surreptitiously taking a glance around. Most paid no mind to the interaction, Taerae and Gunwook actively snickering. It technically wasn’t anything Hanbin hadn’t implied earlier, but coming from Mujin it just felt so... mean-spirited. Still, seeing everyone else take it so lightly made Hao’s niggling feeling that he was overreacting return in full force.
“Ah, I’m sorry about that, hyung. I’ll try to be more on time moving forward.” Hao said diplomatically.
Mujin’s gaze, which had left to wander over the others, snapped back to Hao. “See that you do. You don’t want to hold the team back.”
At that Gunwook’s snicker died off and he looked worried for a second as he glanced between Hao and Mujin. Mujin seemed to have caught Gunwook’s shift in expression as well, as his disposition visibly changed into something softer, less angry and he lightly changed the subject to today’s schedule. Gunwook relaxed and joined in the discussion.
As they made their way downstairs, Gunwook grabbed Hao’s arm and kept him back with his brow furrowed, his teeth worrying his lip.
“Hao-hyung, may I talk to you for a second?” Gunwook asked as unfailingly polite as always. Hao and Gunwook shot a glance at Hanbin, who glanced at his watch and gave them the okay, as long as they were down in less than two minutes.
Hao was torn between being extremely touched that Gunwook seemed this concerned over him and guilty for realizing how quickly the younger had caught on to the strange atmosphere. Hao would do his best to reassure him; he honestly already felt better knowing someone else had seen what he saw, enough to presumably check on him or at least ask what was going on.
As the door shut behind the others, Gunwook ran a hand through his hair. “About Mujin-hyung… he’s going through something really stressful right now, so he might be a bit snappy, so try to give him some leeway, yeah? He’s so nice, we should really be there for him.”
Hao blinked. That… wasn’t quite what he expected, but maybe this helped explain what was going on? Before he could respond, Gunwook continued.
“He told us how you don’t like him, and obviously you don’t have to like everyone, but it’d be great if you could try to be nice to him, please? For me?” Gunwook sounded so heartbreakingly young as he asked that Hao had automatically patted his shoulder comfortingly while trying to understand how Gunwook came to the conclusion that Hao was the one who didn’t like Mujin.
Apparently taking his absent-minded pat as agreement, Gunwook smiled sunnily and was out the door. Dazedly, Hao followed. This didn’t really affect his plan to try and reach out to Mujin to fix whatever had happened, but it did solidify his desire to do so quickly. He hadn’t realized that not only had at least one member noticed but they had apparently discussed it with Mujin and decided that he was the problem.
They couldn’t have this kind of internal strife. They were debuting so, so soon.
Hao had to do better.