Offstage Secrets: Friendship
Friendship Route – Shuaibo
From the beginning, Shuaibo naturally takes on the role of an older brother in AHOF. He’s the one making sure everyone eats properly, gets enough rest, and doesn’t overwork themselves. JL quickly finds himself gravitating toward Shuaibo, both of them shouldering responsibilities in different ways—JL striving to prove himself despite debuting at the same time as Shuaibo, and Shuaibo navigating the industry’s ups and downs even in his relatively short time.
One night, after an intense practice session, JL trudges into the dorm’s kitchen, hoping to grab a quick drink before heading to bed. He pauses when he spots Shuaibo sitting at the small dining table, phone in hand, eyes clouded with something unreadable. The usual energy that Shuaibo carries, the effortless charisma that makes him seem untouchable on stage, is nowhere to be found.
JL hesitates for a moment before stepping closer. “Everything okay?”
Shuaibo exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Just some family stuff…” He sets his phone down with a quiet thud. “My parents want me to come home more, but I don’t have the time. They don’t understand this life.” His voice is low, laced with frustration.
JL pulls out a chair and sits across from him, fingers tracing the condensation on his water bottle. “Yeah… I get that.”
Shuaibo glances up, searching JL’s expression. “Your family, too?”
JL nods. “They support me, but sometimes I can tell they don’t really get why I’m doing this—why I work myself to exhaustion for something so uncertain. They ask why I don’t visit more, why I can’t just ‘take a break’ like a normal job.” He lets out a small, humorless laugh. “I don’t think they’ll ever really understand, but… I don’t blame them.”
Shuaibo leans back in his chair, his features softening. “Yeah. It’s not their fault. It just sucks.”
For a while, they sit in comfortable silence, the only sound the soft hum of the refrigerator. It’s rare for moments like this to happen—stripped of expectations, cameras, and the weight of always having to be “on.”
After a while, JL speaks again, quieter this time. “How do you deal with it?”
Shuaibo shrugs. “I try to remind myself why I’m here. Why I chose this path. It helps, sometimes.” He looks at JL, something like understanding in his gaze. “It’s hard now, but you’ll figure out your own way, too.”
JL doesn’t know what to say to that, but he appreciates it. The group’s big brother, always the one taking care of others, for once allowing himself to be vulnerable. It makes JL feel a little less alone.
As JL stands to leave, Shuaibo offers a small, tired smile. “You’re going to do well here, JL. Just don’t forget to take care of yourself, too.”
JL nods, and for the first time in a while, he believes it.
And from that day on, their bond grew stronger—two people leaning on each other, finding quiet support in shared struggles, and navigating the weight of their responsibilities together.
THE END.