Chapter 14
Min Jae’s feet pounded the treadmill like he was running from a pack of demons. In a way, he probably was. He’d been running from them his whole fucking life. Maybe that’s why he was so fast. But his demons were relentless. The day he stopped running, they’d for sure catch him. But not today.
Today, Min Jae was still riding the high from his team’s landslide victory.
The voting advantage would certainly keep him in the top ten, if not his current number two rank.
Strangely no one had mentioned who the top vote-getting performer was.
Was there an issue with the vote? Were the producers saving that for the elimination?
No matter. That person was almost certainly him or Andy, meaning that he’d most likely either stay at number two, if Andy won, or take over the number one rank once again.
Either would be fine. But being the number one Dream Boy would be better.
Andy’s time as number one had served him well.
But Min Jae might argue that it had served him better.
Andy pushing for the two of them to inject a lot more fire into their killing part duet had been the exact right call.
The live audience had eaten it up. And Min Jae had no doubt that the K-netizens were all about it, too.
He imagined the thousands of posts and threads on every social media platform from Korea and around the world.
The furious back-and-forth about whether or not the Thieves of Heart had taken things too far.
As if that were even possible. The showrunners had final say on whatever was shown on their stage, and they’d seen the dress rehearsal.
No, if they’d allowed it, then it was exactly what they wanted.
And so, everybody wins. The show, the audience, Andy, and Min Jae.
Especially him. Never in a million years had he seriously considered using his other finely honed talents on stage like that.
His ability to command the attention of a lover.
Knowing just exactly how to stare, pout, snarl, and moan to drive his clients wild.
If it worked so well on an audience of one–or, two, that one time–then it would also work on an audience of thousands.
If only it hadn't worked so well on him, too.
That was the price. Getting so close to the one person he’d sworn to avoid.
The one person who always managed to get under his skin.
The one person he’d almost kissed. Even their shared embrace offstage, congratulating one another, felt different than it had before.
Andy’s charm and attention–not to mention his chest, arms, thighs, and everything else–had melted Min Jae’s walls in a way he’d been powerless to prevent.
There was always a cost to that sort of intimacy on stage.
But being Andy’s dance partner had worked out so much better for Min Jae than being his rival.
If he had to stuff his feelings down a little further, it was a price he’d gladly pay to debut as an idol.
By the time Min Jae had finished in the fitness center, showered, and eaten, most of the guys had gathered in the auditorium for the morning’s filming session.
No one had announced what they’d be filming, but Min Jae assumed it was probably another viewing party.
That, or more games. He hoped it was the former. He wasn’t in the mood for games.
Min Jae smiled as he followed Woo Jin into the auditorium, the fifty remaining contestants settling into their chairs in a murmur of low, anxious chatter. Chairs meant no games. He found a spot next to Woo Jin close to the middle in the back and waited.
Si Woo strode onto the stage, dressed in a pair of artfully distressed designer jeans, a simple but perfectly cut white t-shirt, and a loose-fitting, olive green silk bomber jacket. He was still a star, but today he was playing the part of the cool, approachable hyung.
“Hello, Dream Boys,” Si Woo said, his voice warm and easy, as he stood before the gently pulsing Dream Boy Project logo on the screen behind him.
“I hope you’re all well-rested after last night’s show.
” He smiled at the whoops and cheers that rippled through the room.
“Well, we’ve got a treat for you today: a special viewing session!
” More cheers, including Min Jae, who was still happy there weren’t any games.
“We thought it would be fun to take a look at some of the online buzz about your last performances to show you how the Dream Makers are reacting to your incredible hard work.”
The logo disappeared as the first clips played, a rapid-fire montage of powerful moments from the other teams. Team Six during their breathtaking performance, with Choi Hyun Woo at the center, his movements full of a raw, heartbreaking vulnerability.
It immediately cut to a video of a fan in France, tears streaming down her face, saying in subtitled French, "His emotion was so real. He has to debut."
"Hyun Woo's team really killed it," Woo Jin murmured beside him.
Min Jae offered a non-committal nod. “It was a smart concept, especially for the inter-fans.”
The screen shifted to the disastrous performance from Team Four.
The editors had cruelly isolated the moment their vocalist went painfully flat, even adding a comedic "record scratch" sound effect.
It was followed by a compilation of fans cringing in reaction videos.
The showrunners were merciless, turning a guy's worst moment into a running gag for the episode.
Next came a behind-the-scenes clip from their own team's first meeting.
The footage showed the moment Min Jae had nominated Andy as leader, edited with inspiring music to look like a noble gesture of respect.
It cut to a fan comment: "Min Jae is such a great team player!
He knows Andy is the best leader for the Dream Team! "
Woo Jin nudged him, grinning. "See? They love that stuff."
Min Jae smiled, knowing full well that there were probably thousands of posts saying exactly the opposite. That he’d given up his advantage or made a bad call to choose Andy as leader. But he hadn’t done it for the fans. He wanted to win.
Woo Jin gasped as the screen filled with a slow-motion clip of Min Jae and Andy, their faces inches apart during the final pose of their duet.
The hashtag #MinDy exploded on the screen in a burst of animated hearts.
Min Jae’s stomach tightened. A montage of fan-made videos played—their performance reedited and set to a heart-wrenching ballad, compilations of every glance they’d shared on stage, and endless, scrolling comments from fans losing their minds.
The auditorium erupted in whoops and good-natured catcalls.
Several guys turned to grin and give Min Jae a thumbs-up.
Heat blossomed in his cheeks as his mind froze, stuck between shy, humble smile and proud, cheeky grin.
He’d expected a lot of attention. He’d counted on it.
But he’d once again underestimated the Dream Makers, just like he had when they’d voted Andy as number one. They’d shipped him with Andy.
Min Jae turned, his face still frozen in an embarrassed half-smile, and found Andy, already looking at him with the same amused confusion. Then he lazily shrugged, a gesture so classically Andy that it somehow unlocked Min Jae’s stuck brain. Min Jae smiled back as Woo Jin clapped him on the back.
“Damn, hyung,” Woo Jin said as a torrent of #MinDy love poured from the screen. “You guys sold the hell out of that. They’re obsessed.”
Min Jae’s plan had worked beyond his wildest dreams. To achieve that level of viral success was something every idol craved. A trending hashtag meant he was being talked about. It meant that, when it came time for the Dream Makers to vote, they’d be thinking of him.
Andy’s laughter burst from the speakers, a clip of him from the winner’s announcement onstage, followed a moment later by a burst of the real Andy’s laughter a few rows ahead of Min Jae.
But he could hardly tear his eyes from the screen, watching himself standing behind Andy, his face flushed with exhaustion and–something else.
Desire. He couldn’t remember feeling it, but it was there, plain as day.
Damn that boy. And damn his body for betraying him.
Even there, sitting in that auditorium, his cheeks and chest warmed at the thought of Andy’s laugh.
Traitor. There’d be none of that. His relationship with Andy was meant for professional purposes only.
He was there to win, and #MinDy just might be his ticket to a debut spot in Pr1ze.
Whatever his feelings–or his balls–were telling him didn’t matter at all. He was there to win.
Min Jae rode out the remaining footage, deliberately calming himself with something Andy told him.
They were professionals, and they could perform with one another no matter how they felt.
Of course, Andy had meant performing together despite their intense rivalry.
But the sentiment applied just as well for any other inconvenient feelings Min Jae might’ve had.
His bromance–his ship–with Andy was the ticket to his future.
He’d have to submit to it whether he liked it or not if he wanted to reach his larger goal. Hopefully Andy felt the same way.
Si Woo took the stage after the clips had finished, thanking the boys again for their hard work and dedication.
Then he announced what everyone already knew.
They’d be taking a short break from filming to celebrate the Chuseok holiday.
“I expect you all to be well-rested and refreshed when you return,” he added before dismissing them.
He may as well have been dismissing 50 schoolchildren at the end of class.