Work Text:
Kang Kiyeon was not a stranger to failure.
Being a trainee for so long meant that he has gone through numerous monthly evaluations. They all start and end the same way…disappointment. Not from those around him, no, because for reasons he couldn't truly understand, the people who supported him never faltered in their belief that he can do well. They think Kang Kiyeon will surely debut and become a successful idol. That he will live the happy and fulfilling life of performing on stage that he has always dreamt of.
He wishes that that was the truth. But after placing last over, and over, and over again…he was starting to think that maybe this dream of his was nothing but a product of his naivety. For every failure, he has to put in more and more effort each time just to strengthen his resolve. He sometimes thinks about giving up but then he remembers how much his parents have already spent on his training fees, and the joy on his best friend’s face whenever they talked about debuting together.
So what can he do other than to wipe the tears off of his face, catch his breath, and stand up once again. Sure, it’s what he’s done for years now but what's one more time?
Just one more time.
One more.
Because next time, he’ll do great. He’ll finally be able to show off the skills that everyone says he has. He won’t be on the bottom of the list again. He won't.
‘Right?’
But here’s the thing he was utterly familiar with…the difficult part about failing wasn’t the fact that it happened.
Or even that it can happen again.
It’s the fact that what little trust he had in himself got smaller and smaller each time it happened.
Until he forgot how it even felt to be confident.
To be free from anxiety.
To love himself.
The difficult part about failing was that each time it happened, his hatred for himself grew and grew…
And it was only a matter of time until it consumed him completely.
Because Kang Kiyeon was not a stranger to failure.
He wanted to believe that the next evaluation would be different. He practiced even harder. Spent more hours in the practice room than he ever did before. Devoted his energy to perfecting all his moves.
But the failures from before have already damaged the trust he once had for himself.
His name being called sounded muffled but loud at the same time. Once he was facing the people carrying out the evaluations, everything he practiced seemed like a distant memory.
Every time he took a step it felt like the ground was unstable beneath his feet. Each jump, each twirl, each kick…they all felt foreign to him.
He hated the anxiety he felt but he hated the feeling of not being able to move his body the way he wants to, the way he knew he can, even more so.
It doesn’t even surprise him anymore. It has happened often enough that he thinks he should be desensitized at this point. But he wasn’t. He still felt everything vividly.
‘Can I really do this?’
He has asked himself the same question many times now. He’s asked his friend this question less times but the answer he receives is always the same.
“Of course you can!”
And it was an answer that’s filled with such conviction and belief that he himself had a hard time trying to refute it. Lee Cheonghyeon was always so bright and headstrong. Kiyeon wants to be like him someday, but for now all he can do is believe in his friend’s words.
He can do this. He once was able to do this.
Because Kang Kiyeon was not a stranger to success either; all the time he spent performing on stage and doing well way before he was even a trainee was not a lie. They were results of his hard work. Of all the hours he put in for each and every move.
So despite all his failures he knew he had the right to hope.
The hope he has is now a slowly dying flame but he’ll hold on for as long as he needs to. He’ll dance until his feet bled and he’ll sing until his voice is gone if that’s what it took. Because he knew miracles are not simply born from hope. The flames don’t grow brighter just because you acknowledge its existence.
Kang Kiyeon once thought that it was him and him alone who had the responsibility to keep his fire from going out. But he was proven wrong.
A scary hyung was introduced to them. At first, he was worried; the debut lineup was already confirmed wasn’t it? Was this UA’s way of silently telling him to put in more work? That he can be replaced anytime? It surely didn’t help that the hyung was as good looking as everyone else was despite how intimidating he was.
Even though he was worried that his spot was in danger, he and his other hyungs did their best to help Kim Iwol adjust to being a trainee. The fear didn’t last long. He soon realized that the scary hyung didn’t really have any experience. At all.
‘Was he only scouted based on his looks?’
Kiyeon shook his head and felt guilty, thinking badly about his hyung wasn’t something he meant to do. They all have to start somewhere; it’s inevitable that the hyung would fail at something he’s never done before. Kiyeon understands that better than anyone.
What he doesn’t understand is how quickly the new hyung pointed out his injury.
‘How…? No one noticed. Not even Cheonghyeon.’
It wasn’t even a serious injury. He just stepped on it wrong during one of his practice sessions. Really. The awkward movements he exhibited was probably only due to the fact that they’ve been practicing for hours. He was fine.
But everyone made a fuss about him going to the hospital and getting it checked out. Seriously, he didn’t have time for this. He had to practice, he needed to practice. The next evaluation is coming up soon. But after Kim Iwol expressed his concerns, Kiyeon couldn’t really say anything else. His new hyung seemed truly worried for him; as if he already saw the worst case scenario and didn’t want there to be any chances of it being Kiyeon’s reality.
It was weird.
His new hyung was very weird.
A slowly dying flame…that was all Kiyeon had to keep his fears and anxiety from completely consuming him.
But Kiyeon felt hopeful, suddenly.
“Iwol-hyung…”
He wasn’t sure what reaching out for help from someone who was far less experienced than he was would do… but he wanted to try everything. His hyung, despite it being the first time he was evaluated, performed incredibly well. Kiyeon knew that if they had the same amount of training, his hyung would be higher in the rankings than he was. Kang Kiyeon refused to acknowledge how much that hurt his pride.
He was scared of asking for help; that wasn’t something that he was used to doing. He and the others have been trainees for a while but, well, the atmosphere has never been the best. He’s thankful, at least, that he had Cheonghyeon with him because it always felt like there was a wall between the rest of them.
But his Iwol-hyung has already shown that he cares about him!
‘So, it should be fine…’
And it was. It wasn’t anything special; Kiyeon didn’t improve dramatically fast nor did his fears go away. But he was still getting better.
He went through intensive training with his hyung who was scarily good at acting the part of a judge. So much so that when evaluation day came around, Kiyeon didn’t feel as bothered by the panel’s stares as he used to.
It was strange. His hyung truly was strange.
He was the one who asked for help but he doesn’t understand why Kim Iwol would be so dedicated and put in as much effort as he did for someone he barely even knows. At most, Kang Kiyeon expected his hyung to give him some verbal advice for dealing with stage fright but he didn’t.
Kiyeon learned that his hyung is not the type to take the easy way out. And by extension, he was not allowed to take the easy way out. Not that he ever felt like he could, of course.
But it was fine. Strangely enough, he felt lighter than ever before.
And when the debut lineup was finally, finally, made official. It was the happiest he’s ever felt.
He was incredibly pleased to learn that his new hyung was part of the group. There was a small part of him that was worried Kim Iwol was gonna be saved for a later debut; he was a brand new trainee after all, but he’s glad that it didn’t happen. They celebrated with cake that day.
For once, he found it easy to hope.
He was still a bit scared but now that the dark wasn’t as suffocating as it once was, he felt like he was no longer fighting just to keep his flame from going out; he was fighting to see just how much brighter it could get.
And with his hyung’s guiding hands, he finally came to realize that he wasn’t alone. It was him and his members — his Spark, who was fighting to make their flames burn the brightest.
Kang Kiyeon was never one to believe in miracles.
‘But meeting Iwol-hyung sure felt like one.’