"What's wrong, baby?" The mother's voice suddenly became tense, "Are you feeling uncomfortable somewhere?"
"No..." Ouyang stared at himself in the mirror. His blond hair was particularly dazzling under the dim light in the bathroom. "People from SM Entertainment came to us today... They wanted to sign me as a trainee."
There was a sudden silence on the other end of the line. After a few seconds, my father's voice rang out: "Do you agree?"
"Not yet. I have an interview tomorrow." Ouyang Guang's throat tightened. "They gave me a special A-level contract and said I could go to Seoul International High School..."
"How much is the penalty for breach of contract?" Dad interrupted him directly.
Ouyang Guang's eyes fell on the pile of documents outside the door: "300 million won... It is said that it can be exempted through additional clauses."
I heard my mother gasp from the other end of the line, followed by a burst of noise, as if the phone had been snatched away.
"Guangguang," my mother's voice was trembling, "Do you know how much 300 million won is?"
"About 200 million RMB." Ouyang Guang answered mechanically. He had calculated this number countless times in his mind.
"You're less than 14 years old!" Mom suddenly raised her voice, then immediately lowered it, "How could those people... Do you know what kind of life those trainees lead? Mom just checked, they sleep less than four hours a day, take diet pills, and get injections..."
"Mom!" Ouyang Guang interrupted her, "I'm not that stupid. I recorded everything Director Jin said today."
The other end of the line fell silent again. Ouyang Guang could hear the background sound of midnight radio on the TV and his father's heavy breathing.
"Do you really want to go?" Dad finally asked.
Ouyang Guang looked at himself in the mirror. The boy who played drums in the campus band and the blond boy in the T-shirt seemed to be two different people.
"I want to... at least try the interview tomorrow." His voice was light, "If I pass, can you come to Seoul to see the school environment?"
The mother's suppressed sobs came from the other end of the phone. Dad was silent for a long time, so long that Ouyangguang thought the call was disconnected.
"Your mom and I will buy the earliest flight for tomorrow," Dad said finally. "Don't sign anything until we get there."
After hanging up the phone, Ouyang Guang realized that his hands were shaking. There was a layer of mist on the bathroom mirror, and he subconsciously drew a drum pattern on it.
When I came out of the bathroom, He Zilin had woken up at some point and was leaning against the window reading a contract. The moonlight cast a cold glow on his gold-rimmed glasses.
"Don't mom and dad like it?" he asked softly.
Ouyang Guang shook his head: "They will fly over tomorrow."
Outside the window, an ambulance whizzed by, with red and blue lights flashing on the hotel walls. Ouyang Guang suddenly remembered the clause in the contract that "the company will bear 70% of the medical expenses for injuries and illnesses."
"A Guang," He Zilin suddenly said seriously, "Think carefully, is it for the stage or to escape from something?"
This question hit Ouyang in the heart like a club. He looked out the window. There were no stars in the night sky of Seoul, only neon lights that never went out.
"I don't know." He finally said honestly, "When I stood at the concert, I felt for the first time..." His fingers tapped the window frame unconsciously, which was the rhythm of the prelude to "Numb", "alive."
He Zilin didn't say anything else, just patted his shoulder. The two of them looked silently at the outline of Jamsil Gymnasium in the distance, where a fantastic performance had just ended, and tomorrow, there would be a more cruel selection.
Ouyang Guang's phone screen lit up again. It was the flight information sent by his father. Take-off time: 6:20 in the morning. He stroked the screen gently and suddenly realized that no matter how the interview tomorrow turned out, tonight would be an important watershed in his life.
Just like the deep breath before the drum solo, every subsequent beat will be composed by him.
The Seoul Tower outside the window suddenly turned off some of its lights and entered late night mode. Ouyang Guang counted Chen Zheng's snoring and rehearsed tomorrow's interview repeatedly in his mind. The rhythm of the drums, the dance moves, and the prepared answers - all spun like a lantern.
What he didn't know was that at this moment, in an office in the SM building, Director Jin was putting a folder marked "No. 01" on the top of the list of tomorrow's interviews. In addition to basic information, the folder also contained a photo secretly taken from the VIP area of the concert: Ouyang Guang was looking up at the stage, her amber eyes full of stars.
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