And then it came down to two.
"And now, Dream Makers, the moment you've been waiting for. Your top two debut members!" Si Woo paused, letting the silence stretch, thick with anticipation. “Kim Min Jun and Andy Kim! Please, both come forward to center stage!"
Andy could barely lift his leaden legs as he descended the risers beside Min Jun. It should’ve been Min Jae. He should bestanding beside Min Jae, not Min Jun, basking in the adoration of the Dream Makers on the Vision Center stage. He was about to debut, a dream he'd spent more than half his life chasing with every ounce of talent, drive, and determination he had. And all he could think about was the absence of the moon orbiting his sun. It should’ve been Min Jae.
Min Jun took Andy’s hand with a gentle squeeze. “You’ve got this, hyung,” he whispered.
Andy nodded as he scanned the sea of blank faces spread before him, landing on the spot where Min Jae sat.There’s nothing more that I want than to finish this by your side.
“You’re both about to debut as members of Pr1ze,” Si Woo continued. “But only one of you reached the number one spot. Only one of you will be the center. With an astounding 10,389,201 votes from our global Dream Makers–” He paused, letting the echo of his booming voice bounce through the hall. “–the Dream Boy debuting at the number one spot, the future center of Pr1ze is–” Another pause. Andy squeezed Min Jun’s hand. “–Andy Kim!”
He’d won.
The audience exploded in a thunderous riot of cheers, screams, and applause. He’d actually won. Seven bodies surrounded Andy in a congratulatory assault of backslaps, and hugs, the seven other members of Pr1ze, celebrating their debuts and their new center. He’d really won. A river of sweat drenched his back as a trio of spotlights bathed him in their fever heat, the ringing in his ears drowning out every sound but his heaving breath and his thumping heartbeat.
Someone shoved a microphone into Andy’s hand as Si Woo, from a thousand miles away, urged the other members of Pr1ze to give Andy a little space before asking him how he was feeling. Andy lifted the microphone to his lips while he fought the urge to throw up.
“I’m feeling–” Andy paused, licking his too-dry lips,swallowing to force some moisture into his throat. “I’m feeling,” he started and stopped again, his turbulent thoughts refusing to settle into anything he could coherently speak aloud. He’d dreamed of this moment, but had never dared to imagine it really happening. A silly kid from Sacramento, a stranger in his own home town who’d given up practically everything for a chance to become an idol. A stranger in Seoul–an outsider, the American–who’d somehow charmed the fickle hearts of K-pop fans around the world enough to be their number one choice to lead SCG’s newest idol group, Pr1ze. From that moment forward, he was an idol who’d record, perform, and tour the world. It was everything he’d ever wanted. Almost.
“I feel grateful,” Andy finally continued, somehow finding a way to condense the massive volume of his thoughts and feelings into actual words, “for this opportunity. Becoming an idol has been my lifelong dream, and I couldn't have done it without all of you. Thank you for giving me your votes, your support, and your hearts.” He turned to the other seven members of Pr1ze. Leo’s enthusiastic smile. Woo Jin’s begrudging grin. Min Jun’s tears. Tae Woo, Tae Oh, Seo Jin, and Peak, now idols, too. His future group mates, all staring at him in anticipation.
It was all wrong.
Andy turned back to face the Dream Makers, again finding the spot where Min Jae was sitting, willing the lights to dim just enough for them to see one another again. But, no. He’d just have to trust that Min Jae was there.
“But I’m especially thankful,” Andy continued, “for the one who unlocked parts of me that I didn’t know I had. The one who showed me how to make magic.” He paused, letting the tension build as the quiet murmurs in the audience steadily grew louder. He knew he’d get cut off once production realized what he was about to say. He could hardly believe it, himself. But it was the first thing he’d done that felt right all day. “He should be standing here with me. I don’t even want to do this without him. In fact–”A final beat. Was he sure? It wasn’t too late to back out. No. He was sure. “In fact, I won’t do this without him. So, thank you for the opportunity. But, no thanks.”
Andy set the microphone at his feet with a squealing thud, ignoring the shocked gasps and shouts as he turned away from the Dream Makers and walked offstage.
26
Fat,lazy snowflakes slowly drifted past the kitchen window, melting against the steam-fogged glass and blurring the view of the snow-covered courtyard. Outside, the world was silent, muffled by the fresh blanket of white. Inside, the small house was an oven, the air thick with the spicy, savory aroma of his grandmother’s tteokbokki simmering on the stove.
"No, no, not like that," Min Jae's grandmother gently chided Andy, with a fondness so earnest it nearly broke Min Jae’s heart. She took Andy’s hand in her own, guiding the wooden spoon through the thick, bubbling red sauce in the pot. "You must stir gently, from the bottom. Like you’re coaxing a secret from it."
Andy nodded, his brow furrowed in concentration, following her lead. "I'm trying my best, but you should know by now that I’m terrible with secrets."
Min Jae stood by, watching them. Not too long ago, the idea of Andy standing in his grandmother’s tiny kitchen, getting a personal, hands-on lesson in tteokbokki sauce, would have been the punchline to an impossible joke. Now? It felt just right.
"That’s true," Min Jae playfully chimed in. "Just ask Director Choi.”
Andy scoffed. “Ah. Don’t get me started on that ass–” Hecrashed to a halt, probably remembering who he was standing beside.
“You can call him an asshole in front of me,” Min Jae’s grandmother shared. “It’s probably the nicest thing I’d ever say about the idiotic shithead.”
Andy chuckled. “Damn, ma’am. I can see where Min Jae gets his fire from.”
Min Jae’s grandmother quietly tutted, patting Andy’s arm. “Oh, no, young Andy. He gets that from you. He gets his ruthlessness from me.”
Min Jae laughed, knowing that his grandmother was joking, and also not. They could joke and laugh about it now, but the situation had looked a lot more dire when Andy set his mic down and walked away. Min Jae could hardly believe it. At first he was furious, and made sure Andy knew that the moment he stormed into the small backstage breakroom where SCG was only technically not keeping Andy a prisoner. Well, stormed wasn’t exactly the right word, since he was still on crutches and wearing a knee-immobilizer back then.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Min Jae exclaimed as he hobbled to the table where Andy was sitting.
Andy jumped from his seat and rushed to meet Min Jae halfway, nearly tackling him in the process. “I missed you so much,” he gushed as he wrapped his arms around Min Jae.
“I missed you, too,” Min Jae replied, his argument already losing steam. “But, that doesn’t answer my question. You gave up on your chance to debut? On everything? Just like that?”
Andy squeezed Min Jae a little harder. “No, dummy. I didn’t give up shit. I chose the only thing that really matters to me.”
