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Ni-ki doesn’t like himself in I-land.
It’s not like he doesn’t like himself. It’s just that… he doesn’t like himself in I-land.
Almost every day, the newly finalized Enhypen gets a chance to just settle down and relax from their loaded schedule. They finish training, and they take their selcas for SNS. It’s time like this where they all bundle together into one room in the dorm, TV turned on and an I-land episode playing on the screen.
While Ni-ki was in I-land, the fact that he was going to be on actual television didn’t really… register. He would do whatever he needed to debut, regardless of what was going to be aired. It wasn’t like many people were going to watch the program anyways. He had a goal: to debut, and he was going to do everything he could to achieve it.
It was only when the global votes started actually mattering did Ni-ki become aware of what an audience the show had. And even then, he hadn’t truly realized.
Right now, with Ni-ki pressed against Jay and Sunoo, it finally sinks in.
First, it was something “little”, with Ni-ki voting Taki off in the first episode. At the time, Ni-ki hadn’t thought much about it. Well, he had thought a lot about the decision, but in the end, he thought it was the most logical decision at the time. Taki wasn’t at the same level as some of the other participants in I-land, and he was certain that if Taki went to Ground and worked hard to get out, then he’d show greater improvement than being at I-land from the start.
But right now, it feels wrong. Ni-ki fidgets, digging his toes into the soft material of the couch, and he tries to justify it to himself again, but it feels weaker. Now, with the screen playing on the highest volume and the voiceover ringing though his ears, it feels selfish. Desperate. It feels like betrayal.
But Ni-ki shoves the feeling away and keeps watching. The first episode ends, and they decide to stop there. After all, it had only been a day since the debut lineup was finalized.
The second episode comes. It’s still a little sad to see all of their friends on the screen, clamoring for a dream only the seven of them would reach, but Ni-ki lets his members comfort each other. Heeseung has his arm wrapped around Jake's shoulders. Jungwon and Sunghoon both squeeze him into the corner of the couch, and he can catch them smiling and scooting closer to him sometimes. So, he lets himself smile at all those little scenes, of the freestyling—his heart twisting at the sound of Daniel’s beatboxing—and chuckling hard at the Grounders’ shenanigans.
Jay’s R.A.S. scene comes next. Ni-ki had laughed before, in that grassy field with the projected screen behind the I-land building, but now, it feels inappropriate. From the corner of his eye, he sees Jay’s jaw tense up a bit, and he catches the older boy’s eye in an attempt to make him feel better. Jay smiles back, but it’s clear that he’s still a little embarrassed.
The next scene is Heeseung teaching a modified move, and Ni-ki and some other I-landers taking issue with it. Ni-ki's chest suddenly rolls, and he’s suddenly afraid of looking in Heeseung’s direction. On the screen, him and K stand in the green room, and he doesn’t have to watch it to know what happens next.
Ni-ki forces himself to watch it anyways.
On screen, Heeseung suggests watching each of the I-landers’ performances individually to give them tips. Some of the I-landers express their discomfort with the method in private. After that, K, Seon, and him gather some I-landers. Heeseung is removed from the center, and Ni-ki replaces him.
In the midterm evaluation, Ni-ki's singing falls off mark. The I-landers assemble again to decide what will happen next. Ni-ki remains center, despite his poor singing skills and intonation problems.
The I-landers perform. They get a low score. Six out of twelve I-landers will be sent to Ground.
The episode ends.
And Ni-ki watches.
He can’t think. When it finally ends, he stumbles out of the room and tells the members he’s going to the bathroom. Immediately, he grabs a spare iPad and types into the search bar “I-land episode 2 reviews".
He reads every comment he can, and his heart sinks. Not because he’s indignant at all of the comments but because he finds himself agreeing with them. All of them.
Ni-ki sets the iPad onto the ground. He curls his knees to his chest, and he thinks. He thinks about all that he could’ve done, and he thinks about all that he shouldn't have done.
He knows he shouldn’t. “There’s no use dwelling on the past,” are the words his team repeats over and over to themselves. They are in the debut lineup. They were the ones that made it to the end, to their dreams. They all worked hard to get there.
But right now, Ni-ki can’t stop thinking. Because they just watched episode two, and this isn’t just what happened back there. This isn’t just talking behind Heeseung’s back or removing him from center or being partially responsible for a low average score that might’ve shifted the gears of the show.
This is what aired. This was his "true self".
And Ni-ki doesn’t like himself in I-land. He feels a little stupid now, for being immature enough to talk about Heeseung in the way that he did or staying in center position even though everybody knew that he wasn’t fit for it.
Ni-ki feels so incredibly stupid.
This isn’t something to cry over, not at all, but Ni-ki finds himself burying his head in his knees, trying to hug as much of his body to his chest as possible. A deep pit sits in his chest, something he can't rub away or erase. He doesn't want to go outside. He doesn't want to leave this space and see them, judging him for something he did months ago and being right.
He doesn’t hear the footsteps outside the bathroom or the sound the door makes when it softly clicks open.
Before Ni-ki knows it, he’s being embraced by a pair of tight, warm arms circling around his shoulders. He can tell which member it is by the scent of his body wash, and it only makes him feel guiltier. Heeseung pats his back, and it’s a little awkward, but Ni-ki unconsciously leans into the touch.
“I’m sorry,” he says, body tight and uncomfortable. He hears Heeseung heave a sigh, and the older body lifts his Ni-ki’s head, letting their gazes connect.
“You know Mnet isn’t telling the whole story,” Heeseung says firmly, “I don’t begrudge you for it, and I wouldn’t have back then.”
Ni-ki doesn't reply, only staring at the ground.
“I’m not excusing what you said,” Heeseung replies, not unkindly. “But you know that I cried for you when you left. And I know that what you said back then doesn’t reflect what you feel now.”
“But me being the center… Half of us got eliminated. And maybe if you were center instead, then things would’ve turned out differently! Maybe you…” Ni-ki purses his lips. “Maybe you would’ve debuted with someone else.”
Then, Heeseung claps his hands around his cheeks and forces him to look back at him. His eyes widen a little bit; it isn’t like Heeseung to be so… authoritative. But his oldest hyung’s eyes look fierce yet gentle at the same time, and Ni-ki swallows.
“‘There’s no use dwelling on the past’, isn’t that what we’ve been telling ourselves until now?” Heeseung says, all while squeezing Ni-ki’s face into some sort of puffer fish thing. “What’s done is done, we can’t change the past. You don’t take sole responsibility for Into the I-land. We were all less than we could’ve been, and it was all of our decisions combined that led to now. It wasn’t your fault.”
“But—” Ni-ki tries to interject, but Heeseung cuts him off.
“There’s no one I’d rather be in a team with,” he says firmly. “You’re an amazing dancer. Your singing is getting better with every lesson. You always work hard and teach your hyungs in practice, but you always prank us once we get out," Heeseung breathes, "You’re my friend, and you’re our maknae.”
Ni-ki visibly flushes at that, and he swats Heeseung’s hands away. “Okay, okay! Just stop talking already! I get it!” He looks into Heeseung's eyes, and there’s an unmistakable glint of mischief in it, and suddenly, all of Enhypen pours into that tiny bathroom and crowds Ni-ki into a tight hug. He yells, but it’s no use, with everyone shouting praises and things that make Ni-ki’s face get even redder. “We’re in a bathroom the size of our I-land dressing rooms! Let me out!” He wheezes.
Slowly, every member detangles themselves from each other, some looking pouty while others look smug. He shoves them all out of the room before he can collect himself alone.
Ni-ki touches his chest and breathes in and out. The iPad lays on the floor, and he exits out of the tab with all the reviews. Slowly, he pats down his clothes again, more for the self-collection than the actual need.
He steps out, and all of Enhypen is there, waiting. Ni-ki suddenly feels a little too bare, a little too unsure. He clears his throat.
“So are you guys really… am I… okay?” He asks, voice smaller than he wants it to be. Memories of what he did in I-land all come flooding back to him now, and Ni-ki winces with everything he did that was slightly out of line. Suddenly, someone claps a hand onto his shoulder, and he looks up to see Jay, smiling in that way of his.
“We know you. We love you. We’re a team, Ni-ki, and we have each others’ backs,” he says, and Ni-ki finally feels the weight being lifted off his chest. He breathes out, and he finally feels like he can relax.
“Yeah, we love you, Ni-ki!” Jake pipes up, grinning.
“We love you super duper lots!” Sunoo joins in, smirking. Ni-ki’s face heats again.
“Ah, be quiet!”
But he lets himself be led back to the couch and to be buried between a few warm, sweaty bodies. He lets himself laugh and joke with his members about all the funnier moments in the new episode. He lets himself smile.
He's okay. He'll be okay.