자영 🌂🐸

Jiseok takes one look at the crumbling house before him and gulps.

It's not their first time investigating an abandoned building. Ever since that first ghost hunting video - a Halloween joke, mostly - blew up on his channel, the five of them have ended up in some obscure and terrifying places. Old prisons, abandoned hospitals, creepy old bridges and plenty of murder houses. But this one in particular is making his skin crawl.

Maybe it's because of how modern the house is, he thinks, as he makes sure to capture some good b-roll for the voice over segments. As always, the courtyard and exterior walls are covered in graffiti and the windows are boarded up, shattered glass still crunching beneath their feet in the wilting weeds that sprout up through the gravel. The gate to the courtyard is broken and lopsided from years of kids climbing over, daring each other to go into the haunted house. It must've given under the weight, and now a pathetic bundle of chains keeps the gates closed. But you can just duck under it anyway.

Jiseok doesn't like to do that. His channel, their ghost hunting, is different. It's ethical, he hopes. They always try to be respectful of the entities they're searching for. Jiseok tries to be nice and kind, no matter how scary it gets, because nothing is scarier than dying, right? They must've been scared too. And it mustn't be nice for some strangers to walk around your home like they own the place.

They're not the first ghost hunting team to have permission to investigate and film here, the owners finally relenting after years of reports about the paranormal activity. The people who own this lot actually live next door, and when they met to talk about the reports - all on camera for the show, of course - they recalled the night of the murder in terrible detail.

The couple, then around their sixties, had never had their own children, but they were close with the boy next door, babysitting him as he grew up, taking care of him as his parents worked, or watching him play in the garden. He was a little simple, they said, but a lovely, bright boy. Oh, he'd never dream of hurting anyone. It's just horrific, what they did to him.

Jiseok takes a step back from where he cranes his neck up at the house and bumps into Jungsu, who is getting a shot of the whole place from a low angle, making the already creepy building look even more imposing.

“Watch it,” Jungsu mumbles, a little annoyed at having to repeat the shot. “Don't want any scares before we even get in, right?” He rolls his eyes fondly and Jiseok sighs.

No matter how long they've been doing this, Jungsu still resolutely believes nothing they've encountered is paranormal. He has an explanation for all of it, even if his logic has to get more far-fetched than just admitting ghosts are real. Whilst it's good banter and fun for the viewers to watch their different reactions, sometimes it kind of hurts Jiseok's feelings that he doesn't believe them.

Gunil is filming close-ups of some graffiti scratched into the bricks. “I hate this,” he says, lowering his camcorder. He has a pensive look on his face as he so often does when they come to these places with traceable tragic history. “A child was killed here, and idiots are carving their names instead. Do they have no respect?”

"Maybe some do,” Seungmin speaks up from where he lurks in a corner of the yard. There seems to be a small memorial for the boy, one that hasn't been added to in some time, the elderly couple unable to keep up with maintenance. A carved stone with a bronze plaque commemorates him, and a myriad of objects surround it. There's quite a few dirty, rotting bunny plushies and a board with a few Go pieces scattered on the ground around it, as well as maybe some old books. It's hard to tell.

“We should leave something too,” Seungmin says quietly. “Clean this up for him.” He brushes some dead leaves and cobwebs off the plaque and Jiseok leans over to read it.

in loving memory of Han Hyeongjun

It's the first time in his career as mentor that Keunil has been dragged up to interviews on opening night. Usually, it's reserved for the most popular Victors or the mentors of who made the biggest splash. But this year, those happen to converge. Jooyeon is the most popular Victor right now, and Hyeongjun is the tribute who made a splash. The only reason Keunil is here is because Ode made waves of his own, and now all three tributes are tangled in a doomed alliance.

Keunil feels sick, but he smiles placidly at the live audience, lifting a hand in a little wave to some swooning woman who has bright orange skin - one of his diehard sponsors. He's bad at names.

Most of the crowd is here for Jooyeon's words, not his, Keunil knows. Surveying the stage reveals Augustus Flickerman beaming in his red and gold suit and Jooyeon sitting at the other end of the couch, his legs crossed and lounging back casually. Compared to Gunil who is far too stiff for his own liking, those two were made for stage.

“It was far,” Hyeongjun murmurs, his voice incredibly deep and husky with sleep. It's incredibly attractive, and Ode has the brief image of waking up to that morning voice saying his name softly - his Hanguk name. He flushes deeply, and he's glad the fire light isn't enough to make it obvious. “If I hadta guess, the Careers are huntin’,” he mumbles groggily. “Or else, there's some beasts in this forest.”