Kang-joon pulled his hoodie tight, his face hidden behind a black mask and a low-brimmed cap. In this outfit, he looked like any other twenty-something hiding from the world, but the weight in his chest was anything but ordinary.
He checked his phone. No messages from the other trainees. No "Are you okay?" from Jae-hyun. Even Gun-woo, who usually had something to say about everything, was silent. It shouldn't have hurt—he had lived ninety-six lives where he was nobody—but this time, he had allowed himself to believe he was part of a team.
Being erased was a quiet, suffocating process.
"Kim Sang-hoon," he muttered, the name tasting like ash.
