FITDSLR | Chapter 1

For the most part, Go Gyeol had lived an extraordinarily unlucky life.

Born as the youngest child of the family, he lost both parents in an accident at the age of seven. His much older brother, already an adult by then, became his guardian.

Their inheritance was pitifully small. His brother, a recessive omega, had no stable skills to rely on, and the two survived in a cramped one-room apartment on whatever meager income he could scrape together from part-time jobs.

The following year, eight-year-old Go Gyeol was approached on the street by a scout from LM Entertainment, one of the biggest entertainment agencies in the country.

“What’s a scout?”

“Can you give me your guardian’s phone number? …Actually, never mind. Just take this business card home.”

At that age, Gyeol understood nothing about the entertainment industry. He only nodded obediently when his brother, after hearing the explanation, told him it would be good for him to do it.

That was how he began living in the company dorms as a trainee.

For twelve whole years.

“Hyung, it’s me, Gyeol. You’ve been doing okay, right?”

—Yeah… haa… Gyeol-ah. Sorry, but your brother is— ah…

“…Seungho hyung’s there again?”

—No, not Seungho, Jungwoo… ah, sorry. I’ll call you later.

By the time he turned fourteen, Gyeol had figured out why his brother had been so eager to send him away as a trainee.

LM covered all living expenses. Food, housing, clothing—everything. In a household already struggling to survive, sending Gyeol away meant one less mouth to feed.

As for the revolving door of lovers his brother changed every week—men who disliked the idea of dating an omega with a child in tow—Gyeol deliberately pretended not to notice.

Trainee life was exhausting.

Go Gyeol was decent at both singing and dancing, but he never seemed to have any luck when it came to debuting. Every time a debut lineup was finalized, he was pushed out at the last moment.

“The concept doesn’t suit you.”

“You’ll fit the next opportunity better.”

The excuses were always the same.

“Sorry, Gyeol-ah. Let’s debut together next time.”

At twenty years old, Go Gyeol finally debuted as the leader of the idol group SAVE ME.

The hope lasted only briefly.

Right after the debut, one of the members was arrested on drug charges. As if misfortune never arrived alone, their title track was immediately hit with plagiarism accusations.

After the disastrous debut, the group reorganized with a new member and tried to recover.

But the world still refused to take Go Gyeol’s side.

“Gyeol-ah, this is bad. Yoonsu’s pregnant.”

Before they could even step back onto the stage, another member returned with a pregnancy scandal. The agency didn’t even have time to quietly bury the issue before paparazzi exposed photos of the member entering and leaving an OB-GYN clinic.

Perhaps he realized the ship was sinking.

The group’s most popular member—the one Go Gyeol trusted the most—vanished overnight, leaving the group without a word.

Around that time, the CEO of LM Entertainment approached him with a suggestion.

“Gyeol-ah… how about trying acting instead?”

It was practically a declaration that the company had given up on the failed idol group.

Still, considering the twelve years Go Gyeol had spent as a trainee under them, this was the company’s version of loyalty.

He began taking minor supporting roles.

Surprisingly, his acting—something he’d never seriously studied—received favorable reviews. The amount of dialogue he was given gradually increased.

He went from nameless extra to recognizable supporting actor, and before long, he started receiving offers for credited supporting roles.

Hyung, you’re not answering your phone, so I’m texting. I got cast in a supporting role for a drama this time.

By then, it had become difficult to contact his older brother.

Considering the man spread his legs for any alpha who showed interest, Gyeol occasionally worried that something might have happened to him.

But what could he do?

Gyeol was busy. Exhausted. His brother was already well into his thirties—surely old enough to take care of himself.

It was a painfully naive assumption.

With only a month left before filming for his new drama began, disaster struck again.

A catastrophe impossible to resist.

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t think I can do the drama anymore.”

With a devastated expression, Go Gyeol declined the role.

“What? Why? Don’t you like the character?”

“No… It’s just that… for the time being, I don’t think I’ll be able to work at all.”

“What?”

An irreversible disaster had descended upon Go Gyeol.

Pheromone Island.

A vast emerald sea stretched beneath dazzling sunlight. Lush greenery covered the beautiful island where eight alphas and omegas would gather to search for love.

This small private island belonged to an anonymous billionaire and was opened only once a year for the cast of Alpha-O Connect.

At the center of the island stood the magnificent Ivory Mansion. Its luxurious interior rivaled a penthouse suite, while the infinity pool overlooked breathtaking ocean scenery.

The contestants would live together on the uninhabited island, and if they fulfilled certain conditions, couples would earn the right to spend private time together inside the mansion.

As emotions swayed like waves upon the sea, the first contestant finally appeared on the beachside set.

“Shin Joon-oh, please enter.”

It was Shin Joon-oh, leader of the famous idol group Moving.

“Looks like I’m first. Hello, I’m idol singer Shin Joon-oh.”

With a refreshing smile, Shin Joon-oh began introducing himself.

He projected the image of a reliable, wholesome young man—positive, sincere, and approachable.

Beloved by audiences regardless of age, gender, or secondary sex, he was equally adored by advertisers and variety producers alike.

“My ideal type is someone with a pretty smile and emotional depth.”

The introductions and interviews continued smoothly.

“I like people I can rely on. Someone willing to open a space beside them for me… and someone I can protect in return.”

Without hesitation, Shin Joon-oh chose the seat directly in the center. Like a veteran entertainer, he showed not the slightest trace of nervousness.

One by one, the remaining contestants appeared.

Alphas and omegas entered in balanced numbers.

Unlike Shin Joon-oh, several contestants clearly struggled with nerves.

“My ideal type is… um… could I maybe have a moment to think?”

Some froze completely under pressure.

“…Sorry, what was the question again?”

Others had to ask for questions to be repeated.

“Hello! I’m Tommy, a YouTuber. I do mukbang content, fitness… um… ah… sorry, I think I sounded really stupid just now. Could we maybe film that again?”

One contestant nearly burst into tears while asking for a retake.

Not everyone was used to variety shows, and Alpha-O Connect was infamous for its intensity. Their reactions weren’t strange at all.

The one who eased the tense atmosphere was Shin Joon-oh.

Every time a new contestant appeared, he led the applause first, greeting them warmly with an easy smile. Thanks to him, the atmosphere quickly relaxed.

Eventually, only the final contestant remained.

One omega.

“Go Gyeol, please enter.”

The cast turned expectantly toward the low hill overlooking the beach, already preparing to applaud as they had for everyone else.

Then Go Gyeol appeared.

And everyone’s minds went blank.

The man walking through the swaying palm leaves wore nothing more than a white shirt and simple cotton slacks. The outfit was so plain it almost looked careless.

But as the saying went, fashion was completed by the face.

Against the vivid blue ocean, Go Gyeol smiled softly.

He was breathtakingly beautiful.

Hair black as ebony. Pale eyes shimmering beneath shattered sunlight. Even the way the sea breeze endlessly tugged at his shirt looked cinematic.

Without realizing it, the camera director instinctively zoomed in until Gyeol’s face filled the screen.

“Please introduce yourself.”

“Hello. I’m actor Go Gyeol.”

Even if he was once part of a failed idol group, he was still an idol.

Among the countless cameras surrounding him, Go Gyeol immediately found the one focused on him.

A smile warm enough to melt everything appeared on his face as he looked directly into the lens.

“What would you say is your charm point?”

“My smile. People tell me I have a pretty smile quite often.”

“And your ideal type?”

“The most important thing to me is someone’s personality.”

As he spoke, Go Gyeol turned to look at the other contestants.

Meeting the eyes of each alpha staring at him as if entranced, he continued calmly,

“Above all, someone trustworthy. Someone strong enough that I can lean on them.”

That was the moment it happened.

Go Gyeol’s eyes met Shin Joon-oh’s.

Gyeol smiled faintly before naturally returning his gaze to the camera.

Only after he finished the interview and began walking toward his seat did everyone finally snap out of their trance and begin applauding.

Giving the group a polite nod, Go Gyeol headed toward the only empty seat remaining.

Thankfully, it was at the very end.

Far away from Shin Joon-oh.

“You two know each other, don’t you?”

The moment he sat down, one of the contestants spoke up. Another omega contestant, Yoon I-ra, immediately brightened with recognition.

“Wait, weren’t you in the same group before? What was the name again?”

“SAVE ME!”

“Right, right!”

It was an uncomfortable topic, but still within Go Gyeol’s expectations.

After all, Shin Joon-oh already knew he would be appearing on Alpha-O Connect.

Without even blinking, Gyeol smiled and delivered the line he had prepared beforehand.

“Ah, that’s right. I’m embarrassed you recognized me.”

Then he looked directly at Shin Joon-oh.

“You’ve been well, right? It’s nice seeing you again after all this time.”

Curious gazes bounced between the two men.

For a moment, Shin Joon-oh said nothing. Then, slowly, he nodded.

“Yeah. I’ve been doing well. It’s good to see you too, Gyeol-ah.”

The next words out of his mouth were completely unexpected.

“I missed you.”

For the bastard who abandoned the group and disappeared, it was absolutely not something he should have been saying eight years later.