Since that argument that day, the atmosphere in the broadcasting room had been as cold as the Siberian plains.
It was Thursday, just two days before the festival. The entire broadcasting club had scattered to handle the auditorium stage sound and the outdoor booth equipment setup, so once again it was just the two of them left in the third-floor studio. But the mood was completely different from that night a few days ago, with its ticklish sound of rain.
Wonbin kept acting like someone who had buried his gaze deep in the floorboards.
Even when they exchanged the lunch broadcast cue sheets, he only grabbed the edge of the papers and took them away without letting even a fingertip brush against his.
Was my confession-that-wasn’t-a-confession, that I had never once been joking, such a huge burden that made Wonbin want to run away?
"This is the final version of the live booth cue sheet for festival day."
When I set the paper down on the console, Wonbin gave only a short nod.
"Checked it. Sunbae, after the first part of the announcing is done, you can go straight over to the student council interview.
"I’ll open with the intro using the three-minute track I mixed."
His tone was still drawing a line, but there was no strength at all in his voice.
Looking more closely, I saw dark circles settled heavily under his eyes, and his lips were dried out.
It was obvious how much he must have been worn down every night, stuck between his parents and his homeroom teacher over the practical music department entrance exam issue.
After silently watching that precarious 모습, I took out the small thing I’d been fidgeting with in my school-uniform pocket and set it down on the console with a light tap.
The white wired earphones Wonbin had left behind, and a strawberry milk I’d bought at the convenience store.
Wonbin flinched and looked up.
"This... is my earphones."
"Because I keep having to think of you whenever I have it, I’m returning it."
Wonbin’s pupils wavered, unable to settle.
"And drink the milk. You skipped dinner again, didn’t you? You’re already so skinny you’ll be nothing but bones."
"Sunbae, don’t keep giving me stuff like this..."
"If you didn’t look like you needed it, I wouldn’t."
I let out a long sigh, dragged the chair opposite him over, and plopped down.
"Wonbin. I know I make you uncomfortable.
I’m sorry, too, for pushing my way into your wavering heart just because I wanted to.
But I really like your music. That opening song for the festival, the one you made by yourself, all through the night...
I want all the kids at school to hear it and know how amazing you are."
Wonbin bit down hard on his lip and couldn’t say anything back.
But the fingers clutching the strawberry milk tightened, and the carton dented slightly.
"Even if you push me away, I’m not running from the festival broadcast, so you trust your music and hold down the booth tomorrow too, okay?"
Without waiting for an answer, I stood up.
If I came any closer than this, it felt like Wonbin might just kick the broadcasting room door open and storm out.
But the moment I reached for the doorknob, I felt a careful tug at the back of my clothes.
When I turned around, Wonbin was hanging his head low, gripping the hem of my school shirt with his fingers.
His ears were red all the way to the tips.
"...Sunbae."
"Yeah?"
"Tomorrow... in the middle of the opening song."
Wonbin slowly raised his head.
His expression was still complicated, but the sharp, bristling look in his eyes had been replaced by the same honest, wavering gaze I’d seen in the dark a few days ago.
"Around 2:15, when the bass solo drops, the interlude section comes in."
"Oh, I remember. The part that gets really quiet."
"There... you should do the talking."
"Me? The script says it’s just supposed to be music playing."
Wonbin let go of my shirt hem and, staring off into space, muttered in a tiny voice.
"...I just think it’ll feel complete if it’s you.
With no script, with a comment that really hits from the heart, from you."
"Wonbin."
"Go on, then. I have to send the final mixing file to the auditorium server, so don’t get in my way."
Wonbin hurriedly stuck the strawberry milk straw in, took a sip, then spun his chair around and glared only at the monitor. But his reddened ears and the toes of his feet, fidgeting nonstop, gave away everything in his roiling heart.
As I came out through the closed door, a dry laugh slipped out before I could stop it.
Tomorrow’s festival live booth. In the middle of everyone at school watching, my turn was finally coming.
