T: Gasp!

/Im Taewoong wakes up on the floor of apartment 2-34, where he had been lying prone on a sleeping bag. It’s January of 2010. Despite the cold, he had thrown off his duvet and is covered in sweat, as if he’d just had a terrible dream. The floor around him is littered with laver packets, used tissues, and beer bottles, as if there had been a celebration./

/He gets up and looks around. Beside him is Myungie’s decorative mat, his sheets and pillow neatly arranged on top. It is unclear how long he had been gone./

/Taewoong scratches his head groggily as he makes his way to the lobby. A calendar behind him counts down the days to some undisclosed event. In the passthrough window, someone had left behind an open envelope. The contents had been removed and there is nothing to see now./

/In the front of house, several people are moving their belongings out into the hallway using a dolly - his and Myungie’s stuff. Taewoong sees that their superintendent is there, and the super notices him too, but quickly averts his gaze./

/One of the managers pulls down his mask and explains to Taewoong what’s happening. We cannot hear what they are saying. But Taewoong’s eyes tell everything./

/Soon, Taewoong is out on the streets, running, bag slung over one shoulder, his breath ragged. Today, he is also not wearing gloves. The wind and snow is so severe, that unprotected skin could become frostnipped in minutes. In these conditions he is dashing to headquarters, bypassing the rush hour traffic, nearly colliding with other pedestrians. He doesn’t understand…/

/At the company building, inside the lobby, there is a row of flatscreens prominently displaying the day’s headline: a surprise debut from Summit Music Corps. Lee Myungyong is being launched as a solo artist./

/People - staff, visitors, other trainees - are congregating around the screens and murmuring to one another. Taewoong simply stands there./

/Amidst the hubbub, which appears to include a television crew, Taewoong follows one of the assistant producers to the boardroom, where the bigwigs are holding an emergency meeting. Behind a mahogany desk, their CEO stands up to greet him, a severe look crossing his face. Sitting across from the CEO, an elderly manager, who gives Taewoong an almost pitying expression. In the background, a promotional poster of APL Boys had one member’s face crossed out./

/Taewoong’s eyes scan the rest of the room and he sees the 5 remaining “Boys”. No words are said, but their eyes are turned towards him, and radiating enmity…/

/The past gives way to the present, and we can see that Taewoong is shaking with fear. Almost as if he was reliving that dark day all over again./

/That had been the moment he realized that he would have to do everything on his own - that Myungie would not be there to support him. And that aloneness, that sense of peril, has never left./

T: When did you stop telling me the truth

And just pretend to?

Were you ever real with me?

/Myungie looks away, scoffing. His expression is difficult - conflicted./

M: Taewoong…!

You know, 

Sometimes…reality changes!

/We are immediately placed inside Myungie’s perspective from that same night in 2010. The mysterious “ghost” of the apartment bellows out in the darkness - with a sonorous CLANG!!/

M: Gasp!

/Myungie wakes up, covered in sweat. Unlike Taewoong, what ails him is not a mystery. He sits there in the dark for several minutes, bleary-eyed and breathing rapidly. Beside him, his flip phone is glowing, having just received a message from a mysterious sender:/

“Time’s almost up, tick tock! Hey, you sleeping? 

Take the contract with you like a good little boy. Don’t sign it with a pencil, yeah? Put your seal on it, and we’ll take care of the rest.

You’ll never get another chance,

I promise you that!”

/Myungie’s lack of reaction suggests, perhaps, that he had been expecting this message. He processes it silently. A shape behind him rustles, and he is momentarily jolted -/

/- But Taewoong had not woken up. In fact he appears to be sleeping quite soundly, his hands clasped together as if in prayer, the tiniest smile gracing his face. Perhaps he is dreaming of debuting tomorrow. Perhaps what premonitions disturbed his sleep, had not yet visited him./

/In the presence of Taewoong’s innocent sleeping form, Myungie clutches his head in despair, as if he is being struck with thousands of mallets. Always, always, he is aware of Taewoong, as fate and the hands of the wall clock hang over him./

/Myungie’s thumb trembles as it slides over the keyboard. Beads of sweat glisten on his brow. Soon, the light of morning will shine. The subway lines will open, and he will have to make the decision that will change everything - to go to Summit, or not?/

/After an eternity, he types a simple “OK” back, and -/

/The screen splinters under the weight of his thumb. Reality itself gives way - the floor opens up - and he falls...falls...falls…into a stadium that reverberates with the ecstatic screams of a myriad indistinct faces./

/The roar of the imagined crowd intermingles with the roar of the apartment as it whirrs and clangs, and we are back in the present again. Before Myungie could fall too deeply into the recesses of his own mind, Taewoong had caught him - lunged forward and put his arms around him - keeping him from the darkness./

/The proverbial sky falls on Taewoong and Myungie, shattering across their bodies./

/Myungie could feel Taewoong’s hands clenching together, encircling the small of his back, refusing to let him go. They remain like this for who knows how long…then Taewoong says to the ground, in a small voice,/

T: You know what the worst part is…

Even now,

I wonder

if I should have given you more of me. 

If I had told you - told you, in actual words, how I felt, 

Things might have been different…

…And you wouldn’t have…

/A hand flies up and covers Taewoong’s wrist, seizing on the moment./

M: What do you mean, 

How you felt? 

/They stare at each other with identical looks of surprise./

/After a moment of hesitation, Taewoong continues,/

T: …

But, you were right. We all make choices. 

I did, too.

They didn't turn out so badly, either. 

Some of those guys, I eventually levelled with. 

And some, I got even with.

/He huffs indignantly at the recollection of those rogues that he used to call groupmates. But it doesn’t seem serious, as almost a second later, he is holding back laughter./

T: And we did have some fans. 

Well, a few…

/Before Taewoong could ramble anymore about the good ol’ days, however, Myungie puts both hands firmly on Taewoong’s shoulders, and gives them a shake!/

M: Taewoong!

Focus!

T: ?!

What’s with you…

/As Taewoong attempts to shimmy his brain back into the right orientation, Myungie pulls back, putting a finger to his lip - as if embarrassed at his own emotional outburst. For the first time today, it looks like he is genuinely at a loss for what to do. Eventually, he explains, in a halting voice,/

M: …You know, at some point, 

you changed your number. 

Even your email.

Maybe you were tired of getting messages from that life…I thought.

/Flashback: Crowds of APL fans holding up lightsticks that look like…you guessed it…horse heads!/

M: But then I remembered, I still had Seungho’s number. 

You gave it to me, 

because you wanted Seungie to have a second emergency contact 

For when you were at rehearsals,

who wasn’t part of your deadbeat family.

/Flashback: a montage of young Myungie playing with Seungho at the park near APL’s office - holding the little tyke’s arm as he skips lightly over the stones -  bandaging the same arm when Seungho inevitably trips and falls, transforming into a mess of tears and snot - waiting impatiently with Seungho on a park bench just outside of APL’s gates for their favourite person to finish dance practice. When Taewoong finally emerges, Seungho immediately leaps up and gives him a running hug! Myungie, exhausted and with sweat dribbling down his face from the late afternoon sun, can only give Taewoong a weak smile. So many days passed like this, in the heat of summer./

M: I couldn’t stop thinking about that. 

At one point, you trusted me with the most important person

In your life.

/Before Taewoong could say anything, Myungie’s hand had grasped his…/