@rkevent
A staff member leads you down Royal’s winding hallways to So Jiseob’s office, then opens the door and leads you inside, where the CEO awaits, sitting at his desk. He doesn’t look up as you enter; he’s too preoccupied with paperwork in front of him. Seated across from his desk, next to an empty chair, is a company lawyer whom you recognize from before; she’d been present when you signed your initial company contract. The staff member directs you to take the empty chair next to the lawyer and then leaves. You hear the door close and the latch click back into place just as your CEO finally looks up and offers the tiniest hint of a smile.
He folds his hands on the desk in front of him, eyes settling on yours. “When trainees first sign a contract with a company, they are devoting themselves to at least two years of training. They usually don’t expect the time to pass so quickly, but it does,” he ruminates mildly. “Years of training and hopes leads to one dream usually: debut.”
“But, you’re no ordinary trainee. Since our pre-debut project started in August, you’ve been groomed to be a member of DE:CODE, a debut group I have incredibly high hopes for. Since then, I’ve seen you grow a lot in your training. You’ve had your ups and downs, plenty of both good and bad.” He pauses, and diverts his attention back to his desk, where he shuffles paperwork until he sets one singular sheet of paper in front of him. “You are quite a threat in talent. I’ve been proud of your growth here, and I trust you to do your best to continue to improve, even after debut. This, here,” he says, motioning towards the document, “is a contract exclusive to DE:CODE and will tie you to this group, and to Royal Entertainment, for the next six years.”
He finally becomes a little less stoic, and shows the glimpse of a real smile as he slides the contract toward you and hands you a pen. “If we share the same vision of making DE:CODE one of the top boy groups in all of Korea, and you wish to be a part of this journey, you know what to do.”
when he’s taken to the ceo’s office, he’s scared. it’s not because hongjoong thinks he’s in trouble; he knows he’s done nothing recently that would warrant a summoning to seo jisub’s office. what scares him is the fact that he knows what’s coming next: a contract. it’s one he still doesn’t know if he wants to sign.
he wishes he has someone to talk to. to ask if he should sign his life away for this long, but the only person he wants to ask - hyun - is far too busy dealing with his own worries, his own scandal, everything that’s been worrying him too since it all unraveled. hyun doesn’t have the time for him; he’s not sure when the last time he had time for him really even was. and in the end, it only makes him worry more: does he really want to go into a world that blows up at even the most basic human experiences? does hongjoong really want to leave his family for this?
while he listens to seo jisub speak, he’s passive. it’s strange, because usually hongjoong is a beacon of smiles and light, but lately he’s been dimming. he wonders if his coaches noticed it. if they hadn’t, there’s no way his ceo would. they don’t interact remotely enough for him to know what hongjoong is like outside of this office, even though part of him wishes that he did. because if he did, then he could talk to him - really talk to him and ask him what to do. but in the end, there’s no way he could ask seo jisub if this is really the right thing. his family couldn’t even tell hongjoong that. and so it all comes down to his decision in the end. making one has never been harder.
is this really the right thing?
hongjoong listens, but he’s sure he doesn’t look as thrilled as seo jisub would expect at the prospect of a debut contract - or at least, being talked to about one. he doesn’t look unhappy, but he doesn’t look happy either: in fact, hongjoong is pretty sure his face doesn’t betray anything he’s thinking at all. at least, not until he hears it: the pause, and the compliment.
you are a threat in talent.
he cries. it’s the first time that he’s heard anything that sounded remotely like a compliment from the head of his company - true, seo jisub has claimed pride in his progress, but that’s nothing close to hearing him outright say he’s a talented threat. it reminds hongjoong then, that this is what he worked hard for: to be able to make people smile, for them to see the work he’s put in to be able to do just that. he’s talented. to throw it away now would be such a waste.
this is a dream that he’s had since he was a child, one he shared with his twin until seongwoo’s began to change. there have been a lot of bumps on the road, and he’s missed home more times than he can count. he’s questioned it all and been scared of the industry more than once; he’s seen the way people have tried to tear apart his best friend and had to smile through it. no one asked him if he was okay. there will be more of that.
but picking up the pen and signing his name to the paper slid to him with tears in his eyes means that hongjoong will only become stronger. he has to make sure that this is the right thing, because it’s always been the right thing. always.
