Baek Du-Ho (3)

The doctor looked Mr. Jeong dead in the eye.

"Activities should be limited for the next few weeks." She explained, "He's deficient in basically every vitamin and it appears he's just simply exhausted." She was serious, with concern plastered all over her face.

Mr. Jeong huffed. "Weeks? For simple exhaustion?" 

A passing nurse glanced over to the manager at his harsh words. The nurse exchanged a long tired glance with the doctor, clearly annoyed.

"It's not 'simple' exhaustion, his body has been severely damaged and his ability to retain energy is severely strained. It's a miracle he's been able to even perform over the last couple days." She explained with urgency. "Seriously, I don't recommend any physical activity for at least three weeks. Photo and ad shoots are… fine, but strain on his body is very dangerous."

Mr. Jeong grimaced, he sighed and placed his hands on his hip in thought. "Please understand that he's an idol with contractual demands. Is there any medicine that can keep him active?" 

The doctor looked Mr. Jeong up and down like he was crazy. 

"No…" The doctor cleared her throat, "There's a low chance he'll even be up by tonight." 

Mr Jeong clicked his tongue. 

"I'm just not understanding. His group members are completely fine, so why is he so weak?" He questioned. Dead serious.

If the doctor was able to snap at someone, it would be at this ignorant manager. She recalled catching a glimpse at the eye candy ASCEND members, worried and waiting for their bandmate. Maybe it was just their anxiety, but they looked anything but fine, let alone completely. But Baek Du-Ho's state was a milestone of poor health. It was surprising that he wasn't taken sooner. The idol industry, she sighed, was it always going to be so toxic?

"He's not weak. Everyone's bodies are different, Sir. And a malnourished body like his is bound to be more vulnerable to these types of episodes." She explained patiently, but it was running thin by each minute. 

"Malnourished." Mr Jeong chuckled, "Him?"

The doctor nodded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, because it was. Baek Du-Ho was too pale and too bony. While most idols were, some bodies had grown accustomed to such malnutrition, Du-Ho hadn't.

The doctor nodded, just wanting this goddamn conversation to end. She turned to the door, "If the members want to come visit him, they can now." 

Mr Jeong shook his head, "It's better if they don't. They'll be too shaken for their schedules if they see him now." 

The doctor tried to recall the company name that ASCEND was from. She had heard of them from her daughters, though she really only knew Joon-woo and Reggie's face. Seeing them in real life, the doctor wasn't sure if she could ever boast this to her daughter. She knew she wouldn't for the better of her job and her daughter's fantasy of the group. Did she have to report this to the labor union?

"...okay then." She replied, "We'll notify you when he wakes up." 

Mr. Jeong made a humming sound and strolled away a calm man. 

The doctor recalled the ASCEND posters, her daughter's collection Joon-woo and Reggie photocards. She also recalled just how tired they seemed in the waiting room just minutes before. She made a note to talk to her higher up about the manager…

–+–

"Carre, is that how idols usually end up?" Kite questioned the other, as they both stared down at Baek Du-Ho's unconscious body. 

Even Carre seemed a little shaken, her tail low at the site of the pale boy below her. "I happened to sponsor a Producer, not an idol for seven years, birdy." She paused, "But Park Jangsoo happened to do a few programs with idols… and I would say about yes." 

Kite frowned, "Is there anything we can do?" He asked, his feathers ruffled in concern.

"Not a thing. We exist to moderate our transmigrator, and that's all." She replied, "Don't get your purpose twisted." 

Kite got a closer position to Baek Du-Ho and stared into his gaunt cheeks, "But aren't we supposed to regulate them too? What if Joon-woo ends up like this?" 

Carre took a long and annoyed sigh, "He won't. That's why they pick from the pros." 

Kite seemed unsure, "I don't know… Joon-woo seems pretty unstable for a pro–"

"And what do you know?" Carre snapped, "Joon-woo is your first. Go through a few more and you'll see "unstable"." She replied. "All of you newbies are clueless." She hissed.

Kite glared at Carre. 

"Yeah, and how experienced are you?" He asked, gesturing an angry feather. 

"Fifty transmigrators and counting." Carre boasted, "Not including Joon-woo." Kite was silenced for a moment, Carre bathed in it, proudly looking at him with the boast high in his eyes.  

"But is it still so wrong to want to help them? We can, you know." Kite reasoned. 

"We're not human, Kite." Carre replied, "We're not even living, so act like it."

–+–

The van was silent the whole drive back. 

Reggie leaned against Joon-woo asleep, his blond hair tickling down Joon-woo's neck. Reggie had a habit of doing so and Joon-woo had long learned to just accept it because Reggie was too heavy to push off. Though, the softened, calm expression on Reggie's snoring face was endearing. Or maybe it was the way Joon-woo had missed it. They had all been tired lately. 

Mi Yong and Ryeo Hyun slept knees to their chests in deep snores, so it was only Jung Hyun-Ok, Joon-woo, and Mr. Jeong awake. The sky was nightly but pale growing with the 3 A.M. time. They all seemed tired, eyebags long and heavy as rocks. 

Joon-woo's phone buzzed in his pocket. 

Jung Hyun-Ok (Co-Worker): Are you okay?

Joon-woo looked up from Reggie's face and made eye contact with Jung Hyun-Ok who sat in the front seat.  

Joon-woo: Yeah.

Jung Hyun-Ok (Co-Worker): One more week of promotion left 🎉

Joon-woo smiled at the message. 

–+–

Reggie scribbled listlessly, his signature, onto probably the hundredth album that day. He looked up and smiled at a blurry faced fan girl. "Hmm… I really enjoyed dancing to WildBoyz's Thunderous." He replied to the hundredth question he had been asked all day. 

Wearing a pink cutesy dog-eared headband, Reggie slid another fan-made bracelet onto his candied wrists. If there was exhaustion in him from the chaotic night before, it was gone. Fansigns were always a good mood booster. 

"I've been rooting for you since Producer10, I was one of the Noona's that voted for you!" The blurry faced fan exclaimed, taking the signed album into her hand with a larger than life grin. 

Reggie's heart warmed at the remark. Most of ASCEND's popularity growth occurred after Joon-woo and Reggie had begun their BGP, not to say it didn't exist on Producer10, because damn well it did. But Producer10 was a small factor into their rapid growth.

"Thank you so much for your support!" Reggie replied, "I was able to place high thanks to you." 

The fan might've fainted right there. Reggie was so handsome!

"Yes, yes! I will continue to support you." She replied, as a security guard instructed her to move on to who was next. 

It was Joon-woo. He wore black cat ears and had bracelets that outnumbered Reggie's. Though Joon-woo's smiles always seemed more worn, she couldn't help but feel like a squid next to Joon-woo. There were many gift bags and boxes building up behind him, but Joon-woo pretended as if it was her and only her in front of him in that moment. 

She handed him the album and shyly asked, "Can you sign this?" She held it out and bowed to her bias-wrecker. 

At first she wasn't the biggest fan of Joon-woo, especially in Producer10. He was always on screen and the producers loved Joon-woo like a son. But as Reggie and Joon-woo became closer associated throughout the show, she couldn't help but fall in love. Joon-woo really only seemed to lack dance. His visual and vocals were on top, and perhaps she was only jealous that Reggie didn't have such main vocal potential. 

But looking at the thin boy in front of her, she couldn't help but notice how flawless Joon-woo wore the androgynous look. 

"I can." Joon-woo replied with a smile. He took the album into his hand and quickly signed it with his signature. She always thought it was a cute signature as it had a small cat in one of the "O"'s. "So you're a Reggie fan?" He asked with genuine curiosity. 

She nodded, "Y-yes…" 

"Me too." He chuckled, "Do you wanna know a secret about him?" 

She slowly eased into a reply, "I-I, yes–" 

Joon-woo leaned in and whispered into her ear, "He snores when he sleeps…"

She flinched back at the voice that entered her ear. Even his voice sounded nice! Joon-woo winked at her as she moved on to the next member, putting her in a dizzy daze. She regretted ever hating Joon-woo!

The next member was Jung Hyun-Ok, and she swore she might've died then and there from a visual overdose.

–+–

"...and JOON, what was your first impression of Mi-Yo?" A radio interviewer questioned. 

Joon-woo hummed, the cameras rolling in his face, "Hmm… When I first saw Yong Hyung it was when I watched the music video of the song he first debuted with." He replied.

"Really? You were a fan of Winner?" The interviewer asked, his face set on sparking controversy. 

"I liked their music, but Hyung's visuals were really eye-catching in that music video. So when he was announced as a contestant for Producer10 I was really excited but also nervous…" Joon-woo scratched at his cheek. 

"And what about Reggie…?" The interviewer stirred, "It must've been a good one, because of how close you two are to each other." 

With a wall of pressure slammed against Joon-woo's face, he didn't faltar. Some scummy interviewer couldn't do a thing to him. 

"I thought he was a very good dancer." Joon-woo replied, "And he thought I was a good singer, so we helped each other out." He explained.

The interviewer nodded, "Ah so you guys taught each other? How cute!"

Joon-woo nodded. 

"And, though it's unfortunate that he can't be here today, what about Du-Ho?"

–+–

Baek Du-Ho stared listlessly into the ceiling above him. It was white, like a hospital. Baek Du-Ho was in the hospital. 

His nurse stared at him with a frown, "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes." He replied with a fan service smile. 

The nurse only shook her head at the smile, slightly blushing. 

"We just have a… sheet we need you to fill out." She edged, offering a clipboard and pen to him. 

He nodded, taking it gently. "Great. Thank you."

It was at the first sentence he stopped. 

'Have you ever had feelings of wanting to harm yourself or others?'

He looked up to the nurse, shocked by the contents of the whole page. 

"It's protocol…. For people with symptoms like yours." She explained. 

He nodded, slowly. Writing a one in the box that coordinated to the question.  He did that for the next one about eating problems and the one about insecurity. He filled out one for every single one of them, and handed it back with ease. Even if he really did have some of the things in question, he knew as an idol he couldn't be honest about it.

The nurse tried to hide her disappointment when she received the sheet, but it was custom for an idol to know better. Reading a fan's expression was always important for how you were dictated to act around them. Even if this nurse wasn't a fan, she was still someone he had to be careful around. 

"Thank you. We'll have to run a blood test again to check in on your deficiencies in about thirty minutes." She informed, "I'll need to bring some food to you, is there anything you want?" 

Baek Du-Ho stiffened. He was already gaining some weight from lying in bed without moving while eating three meals a day. Even if they were measly excuses, they were harsh about eating enough here.

"Whatever salad they're serving today, without dressing." He replied, wishfully. 

The nurse shook her head, "You're gonna need more sustenance then that. May I put at least some croutons, or some chicken in it?" 

Baek Du-Ho stiffened, but slowly nodded. "Not too much, please."

The nurse replied with a thumbs up before she left.

He could only imagine the stupid amount of food that would be piled upon the plate when she returned. He sighed, his brain fuzzled with everything he didn't have control over. His life, his food, his schedule. 

He felt as inferior as an ant when it came to his bandmates. They could live off of less food and do more things than he could. They could dance better and sing better and do every damn thing better. It annoyed him. He had trained the third longest in ASCEND, yet was always ranked last in popularity, in skill, in everything in every evaluation and fan ranking. 

The pit in his stomach ate at his confidence. 

He wanted to change. He wanted to get better, but no matter the effort he put in, he was helpless. He was far too weak for ASCEND, and on the inside that killed him more than it should've.