CHAPTER 1 (PT 3) - Equal Grounds

The song ends and darkness falls on the stage as confetti and cheers rain on them. I feel weird as I look at Xuejun. The camera pans on his face —like they do with every ending fairy— and he smiles charmingly as he pants inconspicuously.

Liu Xuejun had always been attractive. Heck, the first time I saw him, it was like I had run into a child celebrity and five years down the road, though he had grown out of the childlike physique and feeling, he was still grudgingly attractive.

In the age of ridiculous hair colours and receding hairline, Xuejun's hair is a natural black and the way the bangs fall on his forehead give an innocent touch to the otherwise mature makeup. His eyes are painted with a bold red eye shadow and his lips are the same colour too. In the close-up, the glitter stuck to his eyes and jawline shines brightly like tiny stars and Xuejun looks so beautiful that I want to punch him.

The next second, the screen cuts back to the comeback interview of Purple Skyes and the six boys stand in a neat line, smiling like happy chicks. So unlike how provocative they had been mere seconds before.

Since I had never gave much attention to Purple Skyes, even though I knew who made the line-up, I did not know who made the final cut. Before I left the agency, the boy group that was to debut next had a nine member-ed lineup but seeing now, it was evident that three of them didn't make the cut.

It's all familiar faces. They were boys I had trained with. Some for three years. With others for two years or less but they are familiar faces nonetheless. A sudden wave of nostalgia chokes me and I grip my fist.

Stop, Winter.

Purple Skyes carry-on with the interview and each one of them holds on to the mic to speak their part. I barely recognise their stage names but I still mouth their real names. Xuejun, Chin-Hae, Dae-Jung, Hyun-ki, Ji-Hun and Tamaki.

They introduce themselves with unmatching stage names that barely make sense. Tamaki is called One. Who even names a human as 'one?' Only Chin-Hae and Ji-Hun use their real names. But as my heart rises to a crescendo, Xuejun's cool voice enters my ears and he huffs mildly.

"Hello everyone," he says, and his strong voice comes out sounding lazy. Lethargic even. My toes curl. He hasn't changed one bit. "I'm Jun. Lead vocalist and lead dancer. Nice to meet you."

Lead vocalist. At this, my heart drops so low that I have to physically catch it but my confusion over the high expectations I still have over this boy is bright and clear. Xuejun was undoubtedly one of the best among the trainees from our time. He was already trained in music, even as a small boy in China. And he had an in-born talent for dancing. If I had to point at prodigies, I definitely would poke at him. With all of my ten fingers. But here he was, saying he was a lead vocalist. That's like the second or third best.

Dae-Jung takes the mic from him and he leans into it with a wide, eye crinkling smile. He licks his lips and I notice a slight tremble in his hands. "H-hi everyone, I'm Victor. Leader, main rapper and dancer," he announces. Leader. I glance at Park Tae Joo and even though he is supposed to be a stoic human pillar, even his eyebrows are slack in shock.

What kind of mess is this? As far as I remembered, Dae-Jung was a shy bean who shrunk his neck like a tortoise every time he met with the slightest discomfort. He was a good kid but he had almost zero leadership qualities and in fact, he used to follow behind Chin-Hae, me and Xuejun like a puppy yapping 'hyung, hyung.' Leave Xuejun, even Chin-Hae was a far better leader candidate than him.

The other boys take their turns introducing themselves and except for Hyun-ki and Tamaki, none of the others' roles suited them. They promote the title song and the album in a practiced, concise manner and soon the allotted time for them is up. With more happy smiles and cute hand gestures, they are out of the stage and I stifle back a sigh.

What even is this?

Oblivious to everything, fanboys Do-Hyun and Ha-Joon continue to excitedly murmur amongst themselves but even with my mind screaming at me to stop caring, and knowing very well that this had nothing to do with me —an ex-trainee of PBS Entertainment— I still can't help but care.

Xuejun is an ace. What is he doing here with barely any lines or screen-time?

The rest of the music show is a blur and I blank out as more boy and girl groups come perform their songs. Everything is almost an identical copy. Same trendy music, same hard to pronounce song names, same lung busting dance moves. For a second, I feel sick to my stomach.

Without intending to, my mouth moves on its own and the words are out. "I'm going to sleep. Tired."

Everyone glances at me but only Mr Park Tae Joo seems to understand. He softly nods at me and I almost scramble out of there in a hurry.

Inside the room that I share with Ryuu, everything is a crowded disaster. The bunk beds are the only free spot and almost everywhere else is littered to the brim with Ryuu's clothes and accessories and shoes and magazines. I sigh, bending down to arrange them and though my hands make quick work, my mind can't help but glaze over Xuejun and everything I had watched today.

The song was nice. But of course it was. PBS wouldn't spend a fortune to buy crappy music. But aside from the song and the tag of 'Purple Skyes from PBS Entertainment,' there was hardly any value for Xuejun. Or the other boys.

And though I should be angry at him and probably be hating him, I can't help but be sad.

My hands tremble and almost out of habit, I subconsciously take out my phone. It's there. Xuejun's number. The call log says that there were thirty six unattended calls from him. From two years ago. I run a finger across the screen. The contact photo is an old one. It was the first selfie we had taken during the initial months of our training. We were barely thirteen and I still had a gap between my teeth. Xuejun was smiling at the camera, all perfect teeth and half moon smile.

Those were fun times.

So why did it have to turn this way?

And though my finger hover over the call option for an extra second, I retract and swallow back the instinct. Maybe after debut, I tell myself. Yeah, after debut.

On equal grounds.