Warning: Song contains strong language
Myung drove us straight to a parking garage at the edge of the city where we swapped cars, allowing a chauffeur to take us the rest of the way to a private studio. There, the other members waited patiently inside, makeup and hair done and sporting outfits with matching color schemes—pristine white pants with blue shirts varying in shade.
Chung-Ae, clearly displeased by this, wrinkled his nose in distaste as he glared down at his distressed skinny jeans. Compared to Sunni and Jae, his dark eyeliner and spiked hair gave him an edgier appearance regardless of the pale tank-top he had on, but to him, it still wasn't enough. Jae, on the other hand, was perfectly content with his button-down shirt and dress pants, and Sunni's t-shirt said he couldn't care less.
"Pali-pali!" Chung-Ae snapped once we entered the building, and I narrowly avoided colliding into Myung, Sang, and Joonie as the three of them rushed past me to get ready for their shoot.
For once, I didn't need a translation. Having been yelled at by Min-Soo hundreds of times already with those very same words during our practices, I knew Chung-Ae was telling them to hurry up.
Speaking of Min-Soo, I'm a little surprised to see him here. I had assumed he was going to stay back at the hotel because of his condition this morning, but maybe he's not as hungover as I thought. But just to be sure, I wandered over to him to see if he needed my assistance.
"Hey," I mumbled with a timid wave—like I totally hadn't just committed a felony. Which is technically true, but I probably fall under the "accomplice" category in this case.
Min-Soo leaned with his back against the wall for support, raising his eyes up to mine sluggishly from his position huddled on the floor. Even with the colored contacts in, I could tell his gaze was unfocused and somewhat distant, as if he was watching a movie in a far-off room.
Present in body, absent in mind and everything else.
"Are you okay?" I asked, furrowing my brows in concern. Aside from the slight narrowing of his eyes, he didn't do much in the way of answering or even acknowledging that I had spoken. He simply kept staring. "Min-Soo, you okay?" I repeated, wondering if he just hadn't been paying attention before. I zone out a lot too, so I figured I'd double check to be sure.
"Aniyo," he exhaled in a faint, nearly inaudible whisper—no.
His body registered its feeble return to reality almost instantly, shaking and shuddering like someone had cast him out into a cold sea without so much as a jacket on. Worry flooded my features and took the form of a deep frown as he clenched his jaw to stop the unpleasant chattering of his perfect teeth to no avail. I could see the sweat dotting his forehead again, goosebumps rising along his eerily greyish arms.
"Are you sick?" I whispered, kneeling down in front of him and reaching out to check his sticky skin for signs of a fever. Min-Soo flinched away and shook his head.
"Aniyo, aniyo," he murmured again, squeezing his eyes shut in dizzying defeat. Hesitating briefly, he continued, "dress. Get dress. Do shoot." With that, he hung his head and curled in on himself, concentrating on resisting the rigors controlling his frail figure. A depressed whimper escaped his quivering lips, his body shifting away from me instinctively to hide his obvious pain.
What's wrong with you, Min-Soo?
"Pali-pali!" Chung-Ae shouted out across the studio again, scowling at me from behind the beer in his hand. I didn't have a choice.
There was nothing I despised more than feeling useless, so I was willing to do anything to help, even if it meant posing beside Sunni and the rest of the IDOLZ7 in Min-Soo's shoes. Biting my lip in helpless frustration, I rose to my feet and hurried off to comply with his wishes, thinking that at least once this is over, we can finally travel to Korea and get him the help he desperately needs.
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