Chapter Text
The first thing Seonghyeon noticed wasn't the mirrors.
It was the music.
It spilled through the walls from the practice rooms, different songs overlapping into an indistinguishable rhythm that made the entire building seem alive.
I'm here.
I'm really here.
The thought alone of just standing outside the practice room was enough to set his heart racing. For a moment, he stopped breathing. Deep breaths. Not now.
There would be time to panic later.
Right now. He just needed to walk into the room.
Sneakers squeaked against the polished wooden floors, someone counting beats in a corner while another trainee laughed loud enough to drown out the instructor's voice.
The room itself was larger than he'd imagined. One wall was covered entirely in mirrors, stretching from the floor to the ceiling. Bright fluorescent lights reflected off the floor, exposing every misplaced step, every nervous glance, every slumped shoulder weighed down by hours of relentless practice.
Some trainees were already warming up, stretching in practiced silence, headphones tucked over their ears as they silently mouth lyrics. Others practiced choreography in pairs, their movements clean enough that Seonghyeon instinctively looks away before he can compare himself.
The mirrors made it impossible not to notice everything.
The way someone's turns were steadier.
Someone else's posture was straighter.
The confidence in the way they carry themselves, like they belong here.
Like they've always belonged here.
No one looked nervous.
At least, not as nervous as he felt.
His fingers tightened around the strap of his duffel bag. Focus Seonghyeon.
For a second, he wondered if he walked into the wrong room.
Or maybe—
The wrong dream.
Just months ago, he'd been wandering through an amusement park with his family when a stranger stopped him with a polite smile. She introduced herself as a talent scout, before pressing a small scouting card into his palm that would quietly change the course of his life.
"Have you ever thought about becoming an idol?"
Mrs. Eom had been thrilled when he showed her the scouting card, carefully placing it in her hands as though it was something precious.
His father had only looked at him for a moment before giving a single nod.
"Make the opportunity count."
One scouting card. One audition.
Now, he was here.
Neither of them had warned him that the hardest part would be walking through the door.
So he stands there.
Long enough for the trainees inside to blur into one moving picture.
Long enough to convince himself that if he stays still enough, no one will notice he hasn't moved.
"You know," a voice beside him, "if you keep standing there, they're going to think you're part of the wall."
Seonghyeon blinked and turned.
A boy stood a few feet away, balancing two bottles of water in one hand and a towel over his shoulder like he forgot it was there. He towered over most of the trainees in the room, his broad shoulders making him look a little older than he probably was.
Maybe a year.
Soft brown hair, still slightly damp from practice, fell across his forehead, catching the fluorescent lights in warm streaks. There was nothing particularly flashy about him, yet somehow he stood out anyway.
Not because he was trying to.
He simply did.
Maybe it was the way he carried himself with the easy confidence of someone who already knew the HYBE building by heart.
Or maybe it was the easy smile that never quite left his face.
"You're new, right?" he asked, nodding toward the doorway.
Seonghyeon followed his gaze. It took him a second to realize he'd been standing there in the middle of the doorway.
Heat crept up the back of his neck.
"Oh."
He stepped aside immediately.
"Sorry."
The boy laughed, shaking his head.
"It's okay," he waved a hand dismissively, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I did the same thing my first day."
The knot in Seonghyeon's chest loosened a little.
The boy held out a hand.
"I'm Martin."
The name came with an easy smile.
Oh right.
Names.
Seonghyeon stared at it for half a second longer than he should have.
He blinked.
"…Seonghyeon." He reached for it, a little hesitantly.
When their hands met, he realized Martin's was considerably larger.
Of course it is.
He looks like he could reach the top shelf without trying.
Seonghyeon quickly shoved the thought aside.
"Nice to meet you Seonghyeon."
"Y-yeah. You too."
There was another awkward pause.
Martin watched him patiently. He didn't seem bothered by the silence.
Seonghyeon, on the other hand, was painfully aware of every passing second.
He found himself staring at the polished floor as though it were suddenly fascinating, tracing invisible patterns in the wood as if they held the answer to what he was supposed to say next.
Another silence settled between them.
Seonghyeon was determined to look anywhere except at Martin.
The practice room slipped back into motion around them. Music started up again, conversations drifted through the room, and an instructor counted off another set of eight.
None of it reached Seonghyeon.
"So…" Martin said after a moment.
His voice did, and Seonghyeon finally met his eyes.
Somewhere across the room, someone called out Martin's name.
He glanced over his shoulder. A few of his friends were waving him over, one of them pointing at the two water bottles still clutched in his hands.
Martin lifted one bottle in acknowledgement before turning back to Seonghyeon.
"Hang on a sec. I'll be right back."
He raised the bottles with a sheepish grin. "I promised I'd bring these back before they came looking for me."
Seonghyeon nodded before he could think of anything else to say.
Martin jogged across the room, weaving between trainees with the ease of someone who'd done it a hundred times before.
Seonghyeon watched him disappear into a small group near the mirrors.
One of the boys immediately reached for a bottle.
"Took you long enough."
Martin laughed, tossing him a bottle. "Got held up."
Another trainee followed Martin's gaze toward the doorway.
"Who was that?"
Martin looked back.
The new boy was still standing exactly where he'd left him, duffel bag clutched tightly over one shoulder.
"…Just someone new."
Before anyone could ask another question, an instructor's voice carried across the practice room.
Standing by the wall of mirrors with a clipboard tucked beneath one arm, he scanned the room before calling out,
"Eom Seonghyeon?"
Seonghyeon's head snapped up, "I-I'm here." His voice came out quieter than he'd intended. The instructor gave a short nod before motioning him over, "Come here."
Martin watched as Seonghyeon hurried over, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
The instructor glanced down at the clipboard before looking back up.
"First day here?"
"Yes, sir." Seonghyeon nodded.
"You'll be joining the beginner evaluation today. Leave your bag by the wall and warm up with everyone else."
"…Okay."
"Don't worry about keeping up just yet," the instructor added. "We're only here to see where you're starting."
"Thank you, sir."
Seonghyeon bowed instinctively.
As he turned to set his bag down, his eyes wandered across the room until, for just a moment, they found Martin again.
Martin lifted a hand in a small thumbs-up before one of his friends slung an arm over his shoulder, pulling him back into their conversation.
A small smile found its way onto Seonghyeon's face before he could stop it.
He'd been terrified of simply walking into the room.
Now…
He was smiling.
I'm here.
I'm really here.
This time, the thought didn't make his heart race in a spiral.
It filled him with something that, for the first time that day, felt a little like excitement.
Somehow, his first day didn't feel terrifying anymore.
Maybe…
Just maybe…
He belonged here a little more than he had thought.