Chapter Text
Before was when they never fought, never even squabbled.
Before was when they were trainees who trusted each other with their lives.
Sangwon enters his first practice of the month.
He’s been a trainee of a mid-sized agency for a little over two years now, so he’s not that much of a rookie compared to half of the other boys he trains with. He’s used to the rigor of trainee life by now, understanding that the stress was tantamount to the skills he’d learn and the fatigue was only fleeting in the greater scheme of things.
Like every other month, a mentor brings out a boy who would be joining their growing pool of aspiring idols. This time, the new trainee was tanned, with his long hair curling in front of his eyes and his mouth settled into a straight line.
He certainly doesn’t look like many of the other trainees Sangwon’s worked with. He was more distinct, not only because of his sharp features, but because of his stoic demeanor. Sangwon perceives he could be a grounded idol if he put himself into it.
“Come on, introduce yourself, kid.”
The mentor is a tad impatient, perhaps because they were losing daylight by making everyone wait for a simple introduction. Still, it’s rude to pressure a newbie like that, in Sangwon’s humble opinion.
“Hello. My name is Lee Leo. I’m from Sydney, and I like to sing and rap. I also play the drums.”
His Korean is surprisingly good, much better than that of other foreigners whom he’s trained with for months. His stoicness remains an unusual trait for a trainee on their first day — they were typically more bubbly and wide-eyed when grueling practice sessions hadn’t hardened them yet. And from what he’s seen with the new kid’s demeanor when he entered the practice room, the Leo guy was certainly aloof. Cool in a way that wasn’t practiced, albeit making him seem more intimidating.
Maybe people from Sydney were just like that.
“He needs a buddy to get him to catch up before the month ends. He’ll be joining evaluations by then.”
Murmurs break out in the room, with trainees trying, unsubtly, to gauge if he’d be worth taking under their wing. Sangwon can understand everyone’s caution with these kinds of things. It’s always difficult to let go of someone who’s bound to leave the trainee program, especially when everyone has their own evaluations to worry about.
“Anyone?”
The murmurs fade into silence. None of the trainees meet the mentors’ eyes, with most looking down at their shoes or straight ahead at the walls.
No one wanted to pick him.
Sangwon’s no master of reading emotions, but he could tell the new kid was bothered by no one wanting him on their team, even when his only indication was bushy brows tilted a quarter of an inch down.
Before he knows it, Sangwon’s hand raises ever-so-slightly, almost imperceptibly, from the back end of the practice room.
“Lee Sangwon?” Their mentor asks, not bothering to mask her surprise. “You want to take him?”
The tone is scathing, almost as if the brand new trainee were a nuisance rather than a human being who moved thousands of miles away to pursue his dreams.
“Y-yes,” he coughs out his reply.
Lee Leo’s eyes widen, no longer the lazy lines etched on his face. He does an unceremonious bow, hair flopping wildly as he gets back up.
“Thank you!”
He hastily says, either unaware or uncaring of the snickers emanating from the other trainees. Sangwon’s sure he’s red from the half-Australian’s unexpected sincerity, but he gives a low ‘you’re welcome’ as not to appear rude.
The mentor makes Leo stand next to him in line, telling him about Sangwon’s history in the company. Out of the ones in the room, he’s a part of those who’ve trained the longest, yet still one of the youngest. Leo holds onto every word, nodding at the factoids launched at him.
As the day unfolds, Sangwon thinks Leo isn’t as indifferent as he initially thought. Not when he visibly fidgets next to the more experienced trainee, and especially when he stutters trying to introduce himself more fully to him.
“T-thank you again for earlier, sunbae,” Leo scrambles to catch up with Sangwon as the other walks to the room’s exit. “You’re a really good dancer.”
Sangwon blinks at the compliment. He didn’t think Leo noticed him when he entered the room, nor did he believe he was that good to merit the praise.
“No need to thank me, Leo-ssi, or to call me sunbae,” he smiles. “Congratulations on making it through your first day, too.”
The boy scratches the back of his neck, “I guess… What should I call you then?”
“How old are you?”
“I’m 17. You?”
“I’m a year younger than you. You’re my hyung.”
Leo averts his gaze, the tips of his ears turning the lightest shade of pink. “O-oh. You should be the baby then.”
Sangwon laughs, a hearty one he doesn’t let out often in the confines of the practice room. “Maybe.”
The elder boy’s nose scrunches, seemingly thinking something over for a few seconds. “Do you know where I could get good tteokbokki around here?”
“Why?”
“Let me be a good hyung and buy you food for taking me in.”
“Oh,” he feels lighter with the topic not being about training. He’s not the type to make friends very easily because he was as timid as could be. He doesn’t even think he would’ve talked to Leo for months had it not been Sangwon’s job to orient him in the company.
But he’s grateful he got this new acquaintance now, especially that he likes tteokbokki, one of Sangwon’s favorite foods, too.
“Sure, hyung. I know a place.”