Darren's decision to disappear had turned into fuel for the anger—not only for those who felt abandoned, but also for a fandom growing more divided by the day. Darren still refused to respond to anything. The hatred he received felt like something he deserved. But he shouldn't have.
Yet the world never accepted silence as a form of self-protection. To them, silence was guilt. And Darren was branded a coward hiding behind the word "Mental Health."
On social media, theories and public assumptions continued to spiral after DC Entertainment posted a thread on Twitter about Darren's disappearance from the public eye.
["We respect the choices of all our former artists, including Darren, who has chosen to step away from the spotlight. However, we cannot guarantee the validity of any rumors arising from his absence."]
It wasn't only Korean netizens flooding the comment section. People from across the world joined in, voicing their disappointment in Darren. But there were also a few fans who blamed the agency for failing to protect their artist. Very few. Most had been consumed by fake news—never once questioning the sources. They simply demanded Darren to speak.
Meanwhile, behind the scenes, tension among the former members continued to mount. Kim Kyun Bin—the leader who once believed wholeheartedly in the group's main vocalist—was now shattered, powerless. He still believed the rumors were true, and Darren's silence was nothing but cruelty.
Jung Chan Hee, through an Instagram Story, wrote:
["Some disappear because think everyone's the enemy, when really, he just can't face their own mistakes."]
Choi Jae Min, who once planned to call Darren, deleted the idea entirely. In his eyes, Darren simply no longer cared about Dream Night. It was as if he believed Darren had left them to crumble alone—and had chosen to run away.
Darren's vanishing act had become the ignition of everyone's fury. Not only for those who loved him once, but for a fandom now dangerously split.
***
In Gangneung, Darren read everything quietly—from news articles to fanbase accounts he still followed in secret.
He knew the public was burning him alive.
He knew his former members were silently blaming him for everything that went wrong.
And for the first time…
he began to wonder if he truly deserved to come back.
"If everyone's mad because I left…"
"…maybe they never needed me at all?" Darren muttered, staring at the waves crashing in the distance. In his mind, the storm raged louder than the wind outside.
There was no spotlight now, no fans smiling up at him while he sang a solo track from Dream Night's last album.
That night, Darren sat on the wooden floor of a small, empty bedroom, letting the ocean breeze bite into him through the open window. But he no longer felt anything.
His phone had been vibrating since morning. But he didn't have the strength to respond. Not to one message. Not to one comment.
He no longer knew which mistakes were his, and which were fabrications spun by the media.
He began to feel… maybe it was all his fault after all.
Because he left.
Because he stayed silent.
And in a world like this, silence kills faster than a lie ever could.
A message arrived from Kyun Bin.
No greeting. No pause.
["Thanks for ruining everything even more. It's clear now—you're the one who doesn't want to come back. Good luck in America. Alone."]
Those words pierced deeper than any hate comment.
Deeper than any headline.
Deeper than anything DC Media ever put out.
Because they came from someone who used to… hug him before performances. Calm him when he was nervous. Hold his hand when Darren began losing confidence on stage. Someone who once believed in Darren's vocals—who reminded him he wasn't just Dream Night's main vocalist. He was their inspiration.
Someone who once said:
["No matter what happens, we stay together, okay?"]
Darren threw his phone onto the bed.
He stood up, opened the front door, and stepped out.
The sea breeze lashed his skin. But he didn't care.
He walked toward the water, letting the waves touch his bare feet. Cold. But real.
For the first time, he said to himself,
"What's the point of defending myself if no one's willing to listen? Do I have to die first before they believe I wasn't the enemy?"
His chest had been tight for days. The weight of everything was still there.
There was no space left—no room to simply breathe without fear.
His body trembled. Not from the weather—but from helplessness.
Darren didn't want to give up. But he no longer knew what he was fighting for.
There was no good name left to clear.
No future to return to.
No dream still burning in the ash-colored sky ahead.
He looked down at his feet—bare, sinking slowly into the wet sand—between the crashing waves demanding a statement.
And his tears finally fell.
Not because he was weak.
But because he had held them back… far too long.
***
Day ten of Darren's disappearance.
The sky over Gangneung was overcast again—mirroring the gray void inside his chest. He stayed indoors all day, only going outside for air or to watch the ocean in silence.
His phone remained untouched.
But that night, after what felt like forever… he opened his old email account—the one he used before debut. A place he had nearly forgotten.
One new message.
Subject: "To you, who might be tired of fighting alone."
At first, he thought it was spam.
But once he opened it… something inside his chest was hit—not by pain, but by something far more unfamiliar: recognition… and warmth.
[Dear Darren Hwang,
I don't know if you'll read this. But if you do, please—hold on just a little longer.
I'm just a small fan. You probably never even noticed me, sitting in the very back row during Dream Night's fanmeeting last year.
But I saw your smile. Not the one for the cameras—
The tired smile you gave when you thought no one was watching.
And I knew… you were carrying something heavy, all on your own.
The world might be angry at you.
Your friends might not believe you.
But not everyone has stopped standing with you, Darren.
You're allowed to disappear.
You're allowed to stay silent.
But please—don't fade out.
Because if you give up…
it's not just your dream that dies.
It's also every small hope you once lit in our hearts.
Sincerely,
Someone who still believes in you—even when the world doesn't.]
Darren stared at the screen for a long time, heart struck by that strange, warm pain.
His eyes—dry for days—were wet again.
But this time, not from grief.
This time, he cried because someone… saw him. Not as an idol. Not as a rumor. But as a human being.
He clutched the phone as if it held life itself—afraid the message might vanish.
And for the first time since the disbandment… he wanted to respond. Even if he didn't know to whom.
Outside, the rain began to fall. But for Darren…for the first time in a very long while, it didn't feel like judgment.
It felt like… healing.
***