"LUMINA'S WUHAO CAN'T SING."
"LUMINA'S WUHAO UNDER FIRE FOR VOCALS AFTER RECENT AWARD SHOW PERFORMANCE."
"LUMINA LIP-SYNCING SCANDAL: WUHAO CAUGHT LIP-SYNCING LIVE AS MUSIC CUTS OUT DURING A RECENT LIVE PERFORMANCE."
"LUMINA'S WUHAO FACES BACKLASH FOR LIP-SYNCING IN SOLO ACT."
"If he didn't want to sing, then why wear the microphone at all? We know he can dance, just stick to that. There was no need to pretend you can sing."
"This is exactly why I stood my ground against those who insisted he was the second-best vocalist in LUMINA. I'm relieved that the truth is finally coming out."
"I feel for my Prince. The amount of hate he's about to receive is overwhelming. Maybe Wuhao should just consider leaving the group altogether."
"I've never quite understood the hype surrounding him. I mean, debuting after just 6 months of training? That's not impressive—it's a clear sign of being undertrained."
"Haruto, Woo-Bin, Ha-Neul, Jay. So many genuinely talented individuals are now being unfairly dragged into this mess because that overrated shit can't even handle a live show."
"I'm glad that the backlash is primarily focused on Wuhao. The other members are innocent in this. He should take the hint and leave the group."
"He contributes nothing to the group. He's clearly the worst singer and is so stiff. I've seen a cactus with better dance moves."
"I felt so much satisfaction when the audience began booing him, urging him to leave the stage. In my opinion, it was the only justified incident for a black ocean. And those crocodile tears afterward? He really thought we wouldn't see through his act. To top it all off, this happened right before Prince's performance. I can't help but feel sorry for him."
"A staff member leaked a recording of Wuhao speaking with the sound engineer before the performance. Allegedly, he had requested to use pre-recorded vocals to mislead fans into thinking he was on par with the other members. What a disgrace. He should just vanish from the spotlight. How dare he try to prove he's better than the others? This is what happens when fame goes to your head."
"Isn't this entire situation a bit overblown? I mean, why would an idol go out of their way to ask a sound engineer to use pre-recorded vocals when they've rehearsed live? It feels like this is spiraling out of control. It's not like other idols haven't resorted to lip-syncing at times."
"Did you or did you not speak with the sound engineer?" Jay asked, gripping the tablet showing Wuhao's leaked recording in one hand while clutching Wuhao's shoulder tightly with the other. His voice lowered dangerously, and his grip tightened with each passing moment, causing pain. Wuhao remained silent, tears streaming down his face. However, instead of receiving support, the tension in the room only intensified, and some already seemed to believe the leaked recording over Wuhao.
"Let him speak for himself, Jay," Eui-Jin interjected, attempting to ease the mounting pressure on Wuhao. Yet, Jay remained unyielding. Haruto, Woo-Bin, and Ha-Neul stood silently, fully aware that they couldn't interject while Jay was on the warpath; they didn't want to defend Wuhao, either, given the circumstances.
"Stay out of this, Hyung," Jay snapped, shoving Eui-Jin aside as he seized Wuhao by the collar. "Tell me while I'm asking nicely," he growled, lifting Wuhao off the ground. "Did you or did you not see the sound engineer alone?" Wuhao bit his lip, gasping for air as he surveyed the room for anyone willing to back him up, but their eyes all darted away, avoiding his gaze. He realized he was trapped with no escape. "Answer me, damn it!"
"I did," Wuhao finally blurted out as Jay hurled him backward, releasing his grip just as Wuhao collided with the wall. In a fit of rage, Jay smashed the tablet beside him. He lifted his hand, ready to strike, but Eui-Jin intervened, stopping him in time. "Trust is the only thing I wanted from you, Wuhao!" Jay yelled as he tried to break free, but Eui-Jin wasn't letting go. "That's it. Call your uncle. You can't stay here." He declared sternly, walking out with Eui-Jin on his back.
"He should've just been transparent with us," Woo-Bin mumbled to Haruto, his voice laced with a tone of indifference that hinted at his annoyance. "What would have happened if he'd just chosen not to wear his mic? I really can't understand his need to prove that he's better than you." As if in response to Woo-Bin's words, Haruto nudged him, glancing over to see Wuhao struggling to compose himself. Immediately, Ha-Neul, with a frown of concern on his face, scolded Woo-Bin as he noticed Wuhao wincing in pain, his foot clearly injured. Without missing a beat, he signaled for Haruto to take Woo-Bin away while he moved to assist Wuhao, whose distress was palpable.
"I don't— I don't understand," Wuhao stammered, each word escaping him in fragmented gasps as Ha-Neul enveloped him in a comforting embrace, desperately trying to soothe his escalating anxiety. "My earpiece was working. I was singing. So why is everyone blaming me for this? Why would someone sabotage me like this?" Ha-Neul listened intently, nodding in support, but just as he was about to inquire about Wuhao's earlier meeting with the sound engineer, his thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the king's ominous words echoing in his mind. "Sabotage." Without hesitation, he sprang to his feet and called for Seok-Hwan, who arrived within five minutes.
Wuhao sat frozen, confusion thickening the air around him, too intimidated to voice his concerns. "Take him to his room," Ha-Neul instructed Seok-Hwan, urgency in his voice. "Make sure he eats something and keep an eye on him." With that, he left to confront the king, placing Wuhao's well-being in Seok-Hwan's hands
"We meet again," Seok-Hwan said with a respectful bow as he bent down to inspect Wuhao's foot. "It appears you have a minor sprain. Can you manage to get up?" Wuhao hesitated, attempting to move only to feel a jolt of pain shoot through him. An involuntary shriek escaped his lips, and Seok-Hwan noted the distressed expression etched across his face. "It's perfectly okay if you're unable to walk. I can carry you," he reassured, his demeanor warm. Wuhao's face flushed with embarrassment as Seok-Hwan effortlessly scooped him up, cradling him in a 'princess carry.' Wuhao's embarrassment was evident, prompting Seok-Hwan to chuckle softly. "Just close your eyes and picture yourself walking; it'll help," he advised lightly.
Taking the suggestion to heart, Wuhao obediently shut his eyes, and before he knew it, they had arrived at the company cafeteria, which was awfully quiet. Seok-Hwan gently set him down on a nearby chair and instructed him to wait while he dashed off to get medicine and something for him to eat. When he returned, he carried relief patches in one hand, which he meticulously wrapped around Wuhao's ankle, topping it with a warm compress for comfort. Following that, he cleaned the streaks on Wuhao's face and hands with water and hand sanitizer before ordering some bread and a milkshake for him, ensuring that he remained attentive while Wuhao ate.
"You're treating me like a child," Wuhao remarked, his voice tinged with mild irritation as Seok-Hwan lifted him back into his arms for the journey back to his room.
"You are a child," Seok-Hwan replied matter-of-factly, with a slight smile dancing on his lips. "I'm treating you according to your age, unlike others who attempt to rush you into adulthood." It struck Wuhao as odd but painfully true: he was indeed still a child—barely eighteen—surrounded by others who were hardened industry veterans. His experience was limited, and he felt woefully unprepared for the weight of public scrutiny that came with being thrust into the harsh world of idol culture. The expectations placed on him as a rookie trainee felt incredibly overwhelming, especially when he was not equipped with the media training that others had readily acquired.
"I'll be just outside," Seok-Hwan said gently as he laid Wuhao on his bed. "Call me if you need anything." Wuhao nodded silently, pulling the blanket up to his chin as Seok-Hwan quietly closed the door behind him, leaving Wuhao to his solitude.
Lying back on his bed, Wuhao ruminated over the chaotic events of the previous night. On some level, he could empathize with Jay's anger, yet a nagging confusion plagued him as to why Jay had chosen to jump to conclusions rather than investigate the situation. "No, Wuhao. Everyone has their own reasons. You can't allow this to consume you," he told himself, gripping the blanket tightly. During moments of high anxiety, he often sought refuge in the cramped space of his closet, closing the door behind him until the world outside became a distant echo. "Jay's just upset. He'll calm down soon enough. He wouldn't actually kick me out," he reassured himself, placing a hand over his chest, attempting to quell the increasing tightness in his chest.
However, a wave of panic surged through him. His chest tightened. Unable to breathe, he flung open the closet door, collapsing onto the floor as he struggled to catch his breath. Knowing that a mountain of online opinions awaited him, he fought with the urge to open his phone but ultimately yielded. A tidal wave of degrading articles surged before him—insults and slurs littering the comments, urging him to disappear. Each scroll brought forth a deeper sense of despair as he realized even those attempting to defend him did so with condescension. "It's okay, Wuhao. You will survive this. Mr. Eui-Jin will protect you," he whispered to himself, praying that his company would be his sanctuary. But his hope crumbled as he read the latest statement released by them.
"LUMINA'S WUHAO PUT ON INDEFINITE HIATUS AS COMPANY HINTS AT HIS REMOVAL DUE TO FANS' OUTRAGE."
At that moment, Wuhao felt his world shatter. Officially, he was isolated and abandoned. Suddenly, his thoughts raced back to his uncle's final words ringing in his ears: "I promised your mother that I would take care of you until you learn to care for yourself. I believe that now I've fulfilled my promise. I want to enjoy my life. I hope you understand." All doors were closed for him. There was no exit except one.
"Raising your hand and kicking him out—are you out of your mind!?" Eui-Jin shouted, his voice laced with frustration as he confronted Jay, whose actions had left an indelible mark on their already fragile situation. "Our brand image is built on authenticity and connection with our fans," Jay countered vehemently, his eyes narrowing in determination. "Sincerity is key to winning an audience, and Wuhao has shattered that trust. If we want our fans to remain loyal, we must publicly acknowledge that this isn't who we are. It's a mistake, and we need to correct it. That's the only way to protect those who are innocent in this mess."
Eui-Jin rolled his eyes at Jay's relentless perspective. He realized, with a pang of regret, that Jay was viewing the situation solely through a business lens, neglecting the emotional depth and responsibilities of being LUMINA's leader. At that moment, Eui-Jin regretted relinquishing full control of his beloved group to Jay, who seemed more like a corporate partner than a compassionate leader.
"He's a human being, a child! He's bound to make mistakes," Eui-Jin passionately defended Wuhao, his voice rising with indignation. "We should be guiding him—not punishing him. Issuing that statement without consulting the rest of us was incredibly unprofessional. We haven't even investigated the matter thoroughly. Wuhao might have been misunderstood; he could have meant to discuss anything other than what the media is making it out to be." Eui-Jin's perspective was undoubtedly rational and heartfelt, but Jay remained unmoved by his logic. He understood, perhaps too well, that no matter the efforts they made to sway public opinion, they were caught in a precarious situation. The viral recording lacked sound, and even if they invited the sound engineer to provide testimony, he'd be met with allegations of bribery. The scenario was a lose-lose, and the best course of action was to wait it out, hoping the storm would subside on its own.
"Still, putting him on hiatus feels too harsh," Eui-Jin continued, his frustration simmering under the surface. "We should be standing behind him, supporting him—especially with LUMINA's comeback scheduled for next month." Despite all the turmoil, he held fast to his belief that bullying Wuhao was unacceptable, yet Jay was unmoved.
"We can have a comeback without him, and we can always push it back," Jay snapped back, his tone devoid of empathy. "He needs to face the reality of his actions; this world won't coddle him, and neither will we. He's nearly an adult now. It's time for him to learn that there are consequences. I would have handled this the same way even if he were innocent. We have to ensure this doesn't happen again. It'll serve as a lesson to everyone and demonstrate to our fans our commitment to them. I'm making him write an apology letter too." Jay's demeanor was coldly professional, lacking any semblance of empathy—until an interruption changed the atmosphere.
"Mr. Han! Mr. Hwang!" Eui-Jin's secretary burst in, breathless and frantic, calling out their names as if the world depended on it. Jay rolled his eyes, fully aware that any news coming through would likely be another hit piece targeting Wuhao and LUMINA. He didn't even bother to listen as Eui-Jin rushed to open his phone, his hands trembling with anticipation. When the screen filled with shocking headlines, his phone slipped through his fingers, crashing to the floor as disbelief washed over his face. "He..."
"That poor kid. He doesn't deserve any of this," the King said somberly, switching off the TV while glancing at his watch. "He'll be here any minute." Just then, the cacophony of footsteps echoed outside, causing a smile to break through the king's worried expression. "At least my son's future will be filled with some form of noise."
The door flung open, and Ha-Neul stormed in, fury radiating from him as he locked eyes with his father. The king met him with a grave expression, sensing that this confrontation would not be easy. Struggling to keep his cool, Ha-Neul had a torrent of emotions to express, yet the King's demeanor suggested either ignorance of the situation or deep regret for his actions.
"I didn't release the video," the King began, attempting to clarify himself as he settled into his chair. To his relief, Ha-Neul kept silent, giving him a chance to explain. "I did hire someone to watch over the members, but I never instructed them to record anything. I believe those I hired conspired to sell their information and run away," he continued, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "My team is actively searching for them." He motioned for Ha-Neul to sit, and after a moment's hesitation, he complied, taking a seat across from him. "Once we locate them, I'll ensure they apologize and release the video again with the audio intact. Until then, I'm requesting you to ask the other members to remain calm. This will blow over. And please, bring Mr. Xeng to me. I want to apologize to him personally." The king's words had a calming effect on Ha-Neul, but the gravity of the situation was far from over.
Suddenly, the royal guard rushed in, bowing deeply as he interrupted their discussion. The king, taken aback, urged him to let the guest time, but the guard insisted they needed to hear the latest news. Reluctantly, the king picked up the remote and turned on the TV, his expression morphing into one of horror as he absorbed the headline flashing across the screen. At that very moment, Ha-Neul's world shattered before his eyes. Overwhelmed by disbelief, he stood up in a daze, unable to process the devastating news, before collapsing in a faint.
"LUMINA'S YOUNGEST MEMBER, 17-YEAR-OLD WUHAO COMMITS SUICIDE AFTER FACING IMMENSE BACKLASH DUE TO LIP-SYNCING SCANDAL."