09. Faith

In the early hours of the morning, neither of them slept. Not because they didn't want to—but even closing their eyes felt like a heavy task. The manipulative news echoed in their minds like ghosts that refused to leave. Occasionally, Darren would shut his eyes, only to be welcomed by nightmares.

The apartment felt eerily quiet, hollow—empty. It was as if life itself had paused in sync with the ticking clock on the wall. In his room, Darren remained awake. He sat on the floor, leaning against his bed, staring out the window at the fourth-floor view from the modest apartment he had moved into three months before the news of the disbandment broke.

He had tried everything to rest—even Chan Hee had given him space. But what was the point of resting if your mind was breaking apart?

Darren unlocked his phone, staring at a photo of himself and Dream Night after their first concert in Seoul—followed by the Asian Tour titled "Dream Come True." That had been the most meaningful moment of his life.

A moment that reminded him who he was, and why he sang.

But now, venomous comments shot like arrows forged by a cruel master, piercing straight into his heart.

Unlike before, his mind was consumed by a whirlwind of fear about what would happen once he chose to fight back. He knew who he was up against. This wasn't something that could be handled without extreme caution. DC had plenty of weapons to drag him deeper into the abyss.

After betraying Darren, DC wouldn't hesitate to erase him from the K-pop industry entirely.

"If the accusations aren't true, then I shouldn't be afraid to speak the truth, right?" Darren muttered, as if talking to another version of himself.

At one in the morning, with the oppressive silence pressing in, Chan Hee sat frozen in the living room. His eyes were locked on the screen of his phone. A video—two minutes and thirty-eight seconds long—played slowly. It had been sent by an anonymous number.

The footage showed their old practice room. Darren and Kyun Bin could be heard—but not like usual. They were arguing. Loudly. Harshly. Like they hated each other.

But the loudest voice in the clip was Kyun Bin's. In the middle of the video, Chan Hee could be seen raising his voice to mediate. Jae Min pulled Darren out of the makeup room. A staff member even told a cameraman to cut the cameras. It looked real.

Darren, who had unintentionally left his room after hearing the noise from Chan Hee's phone, walked over, heart pounding.

He stood behind Chan Hee, leaned forward, and froze at what he saw and heard.

"This… this isn't in the right order," Darren said.

"They cut the video, Hyung."

"Why did they turn my words into a monster?!" Darren's voice trembled. Chan Hee covered his face with both hands.

"I remember... this video was from 2021. I remember we were all exhausted that day after filming two shows back-to-back. We all exploded," Darren added, his face painted with dread.

But we apologized afterward. We even clarified it publicly. The fans understood back then. They didn't blame us," Chan Hee replied.

"Turns out DC didn't release it then for a reason. They saved it for now—to use against us. They're using our old fights as ammo to destroy us now," He said while harshly running his fingers through his blond hair. The 23-year-old cursed repeatedly, turning his face away from the toxic video still playing.

Darren realized something. He quickly opened his social media—and there it was. The video had already been posted minutes before Chan Hee received it.

And the rain came again. Not from the sky, but from social media. Pouring onto Darren's already broken heart. Again and again. His reputation sank even lower. Old accusations resurfaced. Even Darren, who had once believed in himself, began to doubt.

He returned to his room, while Chan Hee stared at the tightly closed door. Guilt consumed him.

"I'm sorry… if only I'd asked the staff to delete that video back then," He muttered under his breath.

But before the sadness consumed him further, a message popped up on his phone—from Nam Yeon Ju, the independent journalist helping them.

["We need to make a clarification video. Not to defend, but to speak the truth and clear Darren's name. The media will believe you if you're honest."]

02:15 KST

Chan Hee paused, then typed his reply :

["How can we speak out when the accusations are this insane? We don't even have enough evidence to deny everything DC said—especially about Darren."]

02:18 KST

Send.

It didn't take long for the phone to buzz again, with another reply :

["The public only wants Darren to speak. After that, it's up to them whether to believe him or not. You two still have the most important task in this fight."]

02:20 KST

["Good luck. I'll always support Dream Night—as a fan, just like before."]

02:21 KST

Chan Hee bit his lower lip. His mind raced. The ticking clock sounded like the thump of his own heart. Silence wrapped around him like a blanket. The main room was dark—lit only by the light from his phone, his laptop, and the city lights beyond the open curtain. Like a stage whose curtain hadn't been drawn. Chan Hee didn't want it closed.

He stood, walked to Darren's locked door, and knocked softly.

"Renno-ya… If you still believe in Dream Night, then it's time to speak. Not for the ones who've hated you without mercy—but for yourself. As Darren Hwang." His voice was soft, but clear enough to reach Darren inside.

Silence.

A few moments passed. Then, the sound of the door unlocking echoed quietly in the stillness.

***