A little later.

A middle-aged woman visited Spark’s dorm.

“Long time no see, everyone. Is this the new kid I haven’t seen yet, Iwol?”

It was Jeong Seongbin’s mother.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Seongbin’s mom.”

She set her bags down in the entryway and held out her hand to me.

I hurried to take it and greeted her.

“Yes, hello.”

I almost tacked on “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” but stopped myself.

I may never have met a friend’s parents before, but even I could tell that kind of phrasing wasn’t normal—just look at Lee Cheonghyeon bouncing around beside Seongbin’s parents.

Sure enough, Seongbin’s mother smiled and said to me,

“My goodness, Iwol is much more proper than what I heard from Seongbin.”

Already? I haven’t even bent my back halfway yet.

If I’d gone as far as “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” she might have said, “This kid is very proper and squared-up.”

More than that, what exactly did Jeong Seongbin tell his mother about me?

I was uneasy, but I didn’t really want to know. So instead of grilling Seongbin, I decided to carry his mother’s bags.

“Please let me take the bags. Make yourself comfortable.”

“No, no. I’ll put them in the fridge.”

With that, she picked up the big shopping bag she’d set down.

Only after a brief, polite tug-of-war did I receive the bag and head to the kitchen.

The shopping bag was crammed with airtight containers. She must have come light on her own things because there was so much food.

Seeing that, Jeong Seongbin said,

“You brought side dishes again? You’re busy with work.”

“It’s not like I come often. This much is quick to make. Giyeon, Cheonghyeon! Can you two put these out on the balcony?”

At her instruction, Kang Giyeon and Lee Cheonghyeon moved briskly.

The way everyone snapped into motion, it looked like this wasn’t a once-in-a-while thing.

Then the doorbell rang again.

Seongbin’s mother, still intent on unloading the bag, lifted her head and said,

“Oh. That must be your dad.”

“Dad came too? He didn’t go to work today?”

“He took a day off. When I said I was coming to see you, he insisted on coming too.”

Hearing it was probably Seongbin’s father, I hurried to the door.

When I opened it, a man who looked very much like Jeong Seongbin was standing there.

He was holding grocery totes twice the size of what Mom had brought.

“Huh? A face I haven’t seen. Are you Iwol?”

“Yes, hello!”

I’ve seen plenty of men around his age.

At the convenience store, or when I was doing delivery gigs, and so on.

Even so, there was no avoiding that odd awkwardness that comes from “a coworker’s father” standing in front of you.

Thanks to that, I had to break out the “answer loudly” technique I used inside UA.

And this time I successfully split his load and headed to the kitchen with him.

Right then, his mother’s scolding came down.

“Why are you making the kid carry that? I told you there’s fruit in there—it’s heavy!”

“Oh dear, I forgot.”

“It’s really not that heavy, ma’am!”

Afraid I’d end up a little shrimp caught between whales, I rushed to explain.

When Seongbin and I opened the totes, out came another mountain of colorful plastic containers.

“Iwol, is there anything you don’t eat? I tried to pack a variety, but I’m worried there won’t be anything you like.”

“Please don’t worry, ma’am. I eat everything!”

“He basically only eats jjolmyeon, but he eats all the veggies in it!”

Thanks to my memories of Hanpyeong Industries—where if a superior handed it to you, you drank it even if it was straight liquor—my answer came out automatically... and then Lee Cheonghyeon had to ruin it.

I have no idea why he’s so obsessed with my taste buds.

“You like jjolmyeon, Iwol?”

“Ha ha, a little!”

Looks like once these two go home, I’ll be having a long talk with Lee Cheonghyeon in our room.

Just you wait. I’ll give you a scolding you won’t forget.

Only after we finished sorting the contents of all three gigantic totes did we finally gather in the living room.

While the kids chatted with the adults, I decided to make tea.

I’ve spent years serving guests; sitting still and making others do it would hurt my pride.

Doing this kind of thing makes it feel like I’m back in the break room, which is a weird feeling.

Before any moldy memories could bubble up, I loaded seven cups of warm Solomon’s seal tea and one cup of lukewarm water for myself onto a tray and headed to the living room.

Noticing only my drink was clear, Park Juu asked,

“...Why are you just drinking water?”

“To prevent tooth staining.”

If I can’t do anything about my face, I can at least stay neat.

Despite my efforts to improve the group’s average visuals, the looks the kids gave me were nothing if not complicated.

They don’t need to stare at me like that. I’m perfectly aware of my shortcomings; no need to underline them with your eyes.

While I was taking the heat from my members’ gazes, Seongbin’s parents checked on each member one by one.

“Giyeon, I heard you sprained your ankle last time. Is it all better?”

“Yes, I’m fine now.”

“Jeho, you got taller since I last saw you. How do you grow so fast?”

Their words made it clear they’d been watching the trainees for a long time.

At the same time, for some reason, a scene from a trashy weekend drama kept replaying in my head.

You know, the future mother-in-law telling the female lead, “How tacky. You’re far beneath my son.”

If some nobody suddenly wedged himself into the group her son has been training for years to debut with, I could see why she might think that.

Those side dishes she mentioned might be the real-life version of an envelope “so no one feels slighted.”

If I had a son like Jeong Seongbin and heard he was going to share a boat for seven years with some stray who rolled in from who-knows-where, my worry would punch through the roof too.

After they finished greeting every last one of the kids, my turn finally came.

“Iwol...”

I started running through what might come next.

“What makes you think you can become an idol?”

Or...

“Are you really going to stay at UA all the way until debut?”

Or even,

“Do people tell you a lot that you lack tact?”

The moment my thoughts went that far, I wanted to bolt.

My chest tightened worse than during the pressure interview I saw at Hanpyeong Industries.

I shouldn’t go around doubting another person’s—an elder’s, at that—good intentions.

But it felt like my brain was using all my energy to think bad thoughts.

After a one second that felt like a thousand years, Seongbin’s mother said,

“Is there anything hard about being a trainee?”

“Huh?”

And I was thrown. It was nothing like anything I’d expected.

Who on earth isn’t having a hard time.

There may be the absurd condition called “idol debut” hanging over me, but if I can really save my sister, I have to consider myself lucky to have gotten a chance most people never receive.

And the teammates I have to debut with—accidents aside—are guaranteed in terms of skill.

In this situation, complaining would be a luxury.

I answered with a smile.

“Yes, I’m working hard!”

...and I meant it. Very honestly.

Jeong Seongbin’s parents stayed about an hour and then left.

I asked if they wouldn’t at least stay for dinner, but they firmly declined. They didn’t want to get in the way of the kids resting together.

When I asked Seongbin, he said, surprisingly, they were heading straight home.

In my house, once the adults went out, they wouldn’t come back for about three days.

Still, as I heard more while growing up, it seems in most families everyone gathers at home at night.

In the name of dorm rules, we split the zones and cleaned up the living room after our guests, and Seongbin came over to me with an empty cup.

For the fans who especially loved hands holding a mic, I’d taken charge of the dishes so the boys’ hands wouldn’t get pruned in cold water.

“Is that a cup that needs washing? Leave it next to the sink.”

“No. Um, hyung. I’m sorry about today...”

“Sorry about what? Did you spit in the cup on the way over?”

Manager Nam, when he was in a bad mood, would sometimes spit near my shoes. That’s why I hate people who spit in the street.

But what Seongbin confessed wasn’t that kind of gross story.

“Because my mom and dad came, you must have been really uncomfortable, right?”

“Hm?”

Fidgeting with the handle, he forced himself to continue.

“I know you’re not the type who’s shy with strangers, but it felt like you were a bit tense today.”

Tense? Not “thrown off”?

I just... figured it was a case of being a little overwhelmed by a situation I’d never faced before.

Come to think of it, that logic had holes.

If I were the type who couldn’t adapt to new environments, I would’ve bombed the college entrance exam or crashed and burned at {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} the Hanpyeong Industries interview.

But I didn’t blow the exam, and unfortunately, I didn’t fail the Hanpyeong interview either.

Maybe I was rattled because of an unconscious need to make a good impression. I’ve had plenty of people in my life I needed to impress.

I had like twenty people in college alone I needed to impress, probably.

Which means there’s no reason I should get anxious about wanting to look good.

So there’s only one conclusion.

I was nervous about making a bad impression on a coworker’s parents.

It’s X-embarrassing, but that actually makes sense.

No other explanation really does.

If I’d ever met the family of someone I knew, I wouldn’t have been this clumsy—yet there I was, banging the drum, the gong, and even blowing an ocarina by myself.

At this point it was beyond worrying I might misspeak in front of elders.

I covered my embarrassment with a cough and said,

“I haven’t had many chances to talk with people your parents’ age. I was just not used to it, that’s all. I wasn’t uncomfortable at all.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Both of them took good care of us. So don’t be sorry.”

I answered obliquely to a Seongbin who might as well have had “I’m sorry” written on his forehead.

It wasn’t something he needed to apologize for in the first place. Save apologies for when people like the ones from my family show up.

I briefly imagined that scenario and realized it was a bad idea.

I nearly dropped one of our few glass cups in the sink because of how X-awful that felt.

Just as I was trying to clear my head, a thought landed.

How did Jeong Seongbin pick up on my abnormal psychology so fast?