Their idol

your fault

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, but there were no signs of Amy. The police gave up because every lead hit a dead end; the center was still empty. Amy’s mother, buried in sorrow and grief, couldn’t face life without the only reason she had to keep going — the day ended with her, and the sun never rose.

Meanwhile, Jae-min’s career was at its peak after his new single hit number one on Billboards national and international; his face was everywhere, with fans flooding Twitter, f*******:, and i********:, streaming, making dance challenges, and commenting, “Blessed are those who gaze upon his angelic face.” It was announced he would go live on Weverse.

Ji-hoon barked, “Can you please hurry up? You have to go live.” As if he didn’t hear, Jae-min kept puffing, smoke thick enough to make the staff cough, then hissed and sucked it back in, leaning against the wall with one hand on his narrow waist and a look of disgust.

“There was no need to hire a bunch of them,” he said. “It’s just a live.” He dropped his cigarette, ground it out hard, and whispered, “Is she scared I might say something she doesn’t want them to know?” His eyes widened. “Don’t worry, I won’t say a thing,” he added with a sheepish smile for the makeup artist.

Ji-hoon, sweating, excused himself and muttered, “s**t!!” gripping his hair so hard it hurt — but it hurt less than the guilt eating him alive. Jae-min had become a living ghost in his career.

There was no salt to chase him away. Like a hawk, his claws were sunk too deep to pull out.

"He knows a lot," he sighed. "Indeed. He knows more than any solo singer under the company should. That’s why we keep him close and happy." He recalled the command from his madam.

"Mr. Park Ji-hoon." Ji-hoon startled, not at the name, but at the way Jae-min looked at him. Studying him. Mocking him. That irritating, sheepish smile.

"What! What! What?" Ji-hoon yelled.

"What, what," Jae-min smiled back. "We’re waiting for you, sir," he said, adjusting Ji-hoon's wig.

"Stop touching my hair." Ji-hoon faked a pout.

"I just couldn’t stand the thought of it falling. I’m not a fan of your bald head." Jae-min bent to Ji-hoon’s height, cupped his cheeks, and Ji-hoon frowned innocently.

"I like you cute and forever young," Jae-min mocked. He stood to his full height. Intimidating, but not as much as his endless sarcasm.

Ji-hoon followed Jae-min into the room. Handsomely decorated, walls covered in anime posters. He was the Gojo boy.

Ji-hoon's phone buzzed. The message: "No need to guard the boy." He sighed and told the staff to leave. No need to check on Jae-min. As they left, Jae-min peeked through the window. "Bye bye," he said with a sassy laugh, hand over his mouth.

He sat on his bed with the black Gojo cover, opened Weverse, and started the live.

"Hi, I’m Jae-min." Thousands of viewers flooded in by the second, like they’d been waiting.

He scanned the comments.

"Oppa, do you like Gojo Satoru?"

Jae-min smiled like the question hit home. "I’ve been a fan for years. I kinda look like him." He winked. "Yah! You’re even the same height," a fan replied, resting his face in his palm. "Maybe I’m the next reincarnation of Gojo, just with black hair." He smacked his red lips. "Mmmh, my lips are dry," he said, reaching for lip balm. "Can you show us your room, please?"

He brushed his hair back. "Why not," he smiled.

_This was clearly the room of someone obsessed with Jujutsu Kaisen and clean cyberpunk aesthetics. You can tell he built this space around Gojo specifically: his face on the ultrawide monitor, inside the PC, the whole cyan glow matching his eyes._

_*, love, was everywhere too. On the vertical display, on the PC fans. Probably his favorite kanji. The katanas, bonsai tree, and anime figures showed he was deep into Japanese culture, not just gaming._

_With the streamer mixer, mic plushies, and that custom Aorus PC, he wasn’t just playing casually. Every light, cable, and figurine had intent. Less of a bedroom, more of a shrine that happened to be a high-end streaming setup._

"Wow, that’s my dream room." "Oppa, I can’t study." He tilted his head, bangs parting. "Go to sleep and... oh! Wake up later." He nodded.

"Oppa, if you were a character, who would you choose?" He paused like he was digging deep. "A very powerful villain, obsessed with flowers." He smiled.

"They say serial killers love flowers." He pouted, then grinned. "Well... maybe I am a serial killer. I’ll kill y’all with my melodious voice." His eyes widened.

"I’d turn into a ghost and haunt you with my love Oppa." He covered his cheeks and giggled. "Stop, you’re making me blush."

He sang, "Mmmm I see red, red. I love this song but I don't relate." He chuckled. "Me too." Another fan popped

He frowned. "Guys, I love y'all a lot, but it’s late. I wouldn’t want your sleep curfew ruined by the mighty reincarnation of Gojo with black hair." Fans typed fast: "Please don't go, please."

"I'm so sorry." He ended the live.

"Phew." He sighed. "That was a long one." He headed to the bathroom. After his bath, he stared at his reflection.

"We don’t look the same as before. Can we even smile without feeling like crying?" He wiped steam from the mirror. "Till then, we are immune to guilt." He laughed. Back in his room, he changed into pajamas and hopped onto his bed. No appetite, but his mind was hungry for something else. His phone, on silent, had tons of missed calls from Ji-hoon.

He called back. "What?"

"Did you see the numbers?" Ji-hoon sounded excited.

"Numbers for what?" He rolled his eyes.

"You just broke the Spotify record. Weird, since you didn’t promote the song or mention it on Weverse..."

"Bah, so what?" Jae-min cut him off. "You called me for that in the middle of the night? I don’t care."

"Tomorrow I’m not free. Don’t call or come to my house." Ji-hoon exclaimed. "The Gojo..."

"I SAID I DON’T CARE. BYE." He hung up.

Ji-hoon didn't argue further, he knew what day it was. He was there and he saw Lewis falling from the twentieth floor down to the rough pavement. Blood was everywhere, his face was unrecognizable. As he was rushed to the ambulance he looked at Ji-hoon and smiled. "Finally I'm free." And there was silence.

Jae-min woke up before the sun.

No alarm. No manager. Just 4:17 AM and the blue light from his PC still humming. The room was cold. ******* on every surface like a brand he couldn’t scrub off.

He opened i********:. No PR team. No caption draft. Just a photo — Lewis, laughing, pre-debut. Hair damp from practice.

Caption: *“forever missed”*

Posted.

His phone blew up in 30 seconds.

Fans: _OMG VELIN????_ _WHO IS LEWIS_ _ANGEL REMEMBERING ANGEL 😭_ STILL IN OUR HEARTS _

He didn’t read them. He was already in a cab. Black hoodie, mask, no stylist.

The cemetery was empty. Cheap plastic flowers on most graves. Lewis’s was bare. No one from the company had been here.

Jae-min knelt. The stone said:

*LEWIS KANG*

*2001–2023*

*Beloved son*

He didn’t bring flowers. He brought the only thing Lewis ever asked him for and never got.

He sang. Quiet. No mic. No autotune. Just his real voice, the one fans call “angelic.” The song was _Veil_ — their debut, Lewis’s part, the verses the company gave to Jae-min after.

He sang Lewis’s favorite part in Billie Eilish song illomilo

"Remember not to get too close to the stars they never gonna give you love like ours."

Halfway through, his voice broke. Not on purpose. Not for effect. It just… gave out. Like his throat remembered what those lines meant.

He finished anyway.

"Where did you go, i should know but it's cold and I don't wanna be lonely. So show me the way home, I can’t lose another life." Tears escaped his eyes.

Ji-hoon was standing far from the grave

Jae-min walked past him. “You told him to get through the comeback.”

Ji-hoon flinched like he’d been hit.

“I did,” Jae-min said. “I told him the same thing. The night before.”

Silence. Just wind through the fake flowers on other graves.

Ji-hoon finally spoke. “The post. They’re going to bury you for it.”

Jae-min pulled his hood up. “Good.”

He looked back at the bare grave. “He’s been buried alone long enough.” He smiled. "I would mind to join him." He walked to his car, when he was inside he got out again and walked back to Ji-hoon like he forgot something. "What the f**k are you even doing here." Holding Ji-hoon by his sleeves. "It’s your fault. IT'S YOUR FUCKEN FAULT JI-HOON." Yelling at Ji-hoon who's face was turning pink. "You knew how fragile he was , he told you he doesn't want to go , he didn't want to go arggg!! Dammit." Letting go of Ji-hoon and shoved himself in his car and drove away