The doors of KOVA Entertainment opened slowly.
A faint sound—barely audible—yet enough to announce the return of the company's star.
Park Min-su stepped inside.
His footsteps were heavy and unsteady. His shoulders sagged slightly, as though an invisible weight were pressing down on him without mercy.
His face was pale.
And his eyes, as always, looked broken.
It wasn't mere exhaustion.
It was something far deeper.
He paused at the entrance for a moment, as though trying to gather what remained of himself, before continuing toward the practice room.
Music filled the air.
Bodies moved in perfect synchronization before the mirrors...
Then the door opened.
Choi Hyun-woo was the first to stop.
Then, one by one, the movements slowed...
Until silence swallowed the room whole.
Every eye turned toward him.
Lee Jun-ho clenched his jaw.
Park Ji-hoon looked at him with obvious concern.
As for Jung Soo-jin, he took a small step forward, as though intending to approach—
but hesitated.
Min-su said nothing.
He passed by them quietly without raising his head and walked straight to his usual spot.
For several minutes, he observed the new choreography, trying to follow along with the team.
At last, Hyun-woo spoke, his voice low but firm.
"You finally came back."
No response.
Jun-ho added, in a tone that concealed more than it revealed,
"We've been practicing for days...
without you."
Ji-hoon spoke gently.
"We were worried about you."
For a brief moment, Min-su looked up.
Just a glance.
Yet it was enough.
Exhaustion.
A silent apology.
And something else...
Something none of them could quite understand.
"I'm here now," he said quietly.
Then he added,
"Let's begin."
The members exchanged quick looks.
Resentment.
Concern.
Dependence.
Because he was the heart of the group.
The writer behind their lyrics.
The composer behind their biggest hits.
And the voice that, despite its remarkable singing ability, had chosen to be known primarily as a rapper.
The music resumed.
And practice began.
Everyone moved in harmony.
Except him.
His steps lagged half a second behind.
His movements were heavier.
His breaths shorter.
Finally, Jun-ho snapped.
"If you're sick, then get treatment!"
The music stopped.
His voice was laced with suppressed frustration.
"We all have problems!
Nobody's living in paradise.
We're barely surviving in this hell ourselves."
Then he looked directly at him.
"Take some responsibility for once."
Tension spread through the room.
Jun-ho continued, more sharply this time.
"The performance is coming up.
At this rate, we'll become the talk of the entire industry."
Ji-hoon immediately stepped in.
"He didn't mean—"
But Soo-jin interrupted gently.
"We're just worried about you, Hyung."
Min-su didn't answer.
He simply nodded faintly and forced his body to continue practicing.
He knew they were carrying extra burdens because of his absence.
But what was he supposed to do?
Even breathing had become painful.
Suddenly, the door opened.
The manager entered.
Han Se-ra.
Silence fell instantly.
She looked at all of them before her gaze settled on Min-su.
A long, steady look.
Impossible to decipher.
Then she spoke in her usual professional tone.
"I have an announcement."
Hyun-woo sighed.
"Please don't tell me the schedule changed again."
Without preamble, she said,
"The departure date has been moved up. You're leaving the day after tomorrow."
The protests erupted immediately.
"What?!"
"The day after tomorrow?!"
"That's impossible!"
"We need at least a few more days!"
Han Se-ra watched them calmly before replying,
"We need a perfect performance.
As always."
Then she allowed them to drown in their frustration.
Finally, her gaze returned to Min-su.
A brief silence.
"Park Min-su.
See me after practice."
She turned and left.
Hyun-woo and Jun-ho exchanged a quick glance.
Silent.
Yet full of understanding.
Despite their exhaustion and complaints, practice resumed.
Time had become too precious to waste.
But Min-su's body could no longer keep up.
Every movement was a battle.
Every breath—
a burden.
After practice ended, Min-su stood before the manager's office.
He hesitated for several moments.
Then knocked.
"Come in."
He entered slowly.
Han Se-ra sat behind her desk, straight-backed as always, her stern features difficult to read.
And yet...
Her eyes were not entirely cold this time.
"Sit down."
He sat silently.
A brief silence passed before she asked,
"How is your health?"
He looked at her with mild surprise.
She continued.
"Your absences have become more frequent."
A pause.
"And you don't look well today."
He didn't answer.
She sighed softly.
"Yesterday's interview was very successful."
Her gaze lifted to meet his.
"You told me you weren't ready."
A brief pause.
"And I was the one who pressured you."
He remained silent.
"Since the day you joined this group, we had an agreement."
Her voice softened slightly.
"That I wouldn't force you into interviews."
She lowered her gaze.
"I never asked why."
Then she looked back at him.
"And I gave you a place to hide."
Something in those words struck him deeply.
As though she had touched a wound he had buried years ago.
A thought surfaced in his mind.
Did she find out?
His eyes trembled despite his efforts to remain composed.
He watched her silently, waiting.
Then she said plainly,
"There are rumors."
His heartbeat accelerated.
His fingers suddenly felt cold.
"What kind of rumors?"
Han Se-ra exhaled slowly, as though releasing a weight from her chest.
Then she said,
"They're saying...
that you're using drugs."
He froze.
Even his breathing disappeared for a moment.
"And that's not something we can ignore."
His voice dropped, stunned.
"What...?"
Slowly, he raised his head.
"Manager...
do you hear yourself?"
A short, hollow laugh escaped him.
"Me?
Using drugs?"
She cut him off firmly.
"You're going to take a blood test."
He swallowed hard and shifted uneasily in his seat.
"No."
Silence.
One eyebrow lifted.
"No?"
His fists tightened.
"I'm tired of rumors."
His voice became colder.
"Is there even a single piece of evidence?"
She watched him for a long moment.
"You're nervous, Min-su."
A pause.
"Is there something I should know?"
His voice hardened without rising.
"I'm not an addict."
Several seconds passed before she spoke again, more quietly.
"Then what are you hiding?"
He didn't answer.
His hand only tightened further.
Yet the only words that escaped him were:
"Nothing."
She stared at him for a long time.
As though she knew that particular word carried more weight than the truth itself.
Finally, she said,
"Be honest with me.
And I'll protect you."
Then she added quietly,
"I trust you."
He looked up at her.
Despair shone clearly in his eyes.
"I'm really not an addict."
"Then tell me what's happening.
A rumor like this could destroy everything if it becomes public."
He opened his mouth hesitantly.
"I...
I..."
But she interrupted him.
"For now, the rumor is still confined within the company."
She straightened slightly.
"And I'll make sure it's buried before it spreads."
She exhaled slowly and folded her hands atop the desk.
Then she said,
"We don't want a repeat of what happened three years ago."
His expression froze.
Then something dark ignited within his eyes.
Slowly, he rose to his feet.
He stared at her for a long moment.
When he spoke, his voice was heavier than before.
"Did you really have to bring that up?"
A bitter silence followed.
"You know very well that it bothers me."