by Hans Ethan Carbonilla
When the news broke that Mark Lee was leaving NCT, I was already teary-eyed in an emergency room in Baguio City over an eye infection. But somewhere between the sting in my eyes and the ache in my chest, it became difficult to tell what I was really crying about.
I knew, rationally, that idols leave groups. Contracts expire, priorities shift and ultimately, careers and artistry evolve. It’s the natural rhythm of an industry built on constant reinvention. But reason rarely softens the blow when the people who soundtrack your life begin to disappear, one by one.
I witnessed NCT at its peak in 2020, during what many of us, Czennies, consider the group’s golden era. Back then, expansion felt endless. New units, new members, new music—it seemed as though NCT could only keep growing. Even Resonance, with its refrain of “we’re getting bigger,” embodied that optimism. I never imagined that, years later, the conversations within the fandom would revolve less around new beginnings and more around goodbyes.
Now, every departure feels like another page turning. NCity isn’t disappearing, but it isn’t the same city I first wandered into either.
Right now in NCity, every goodbye makes me anxious. Not because I doubt the members or their choices, but because each one reminds me that time has been moving all along.
Winwin found his footing as an actor in China, where he’s finally receiving the spotlight he deserves. Ten walked away from SM to challenge himself even more without walking away from NCT and WayV. Mark built a label of his own, creating a future where he has more freedom, more control, and perhaps a little more peace. Even Sungchan and Shotaro, whom I used to jokingly call “NCT interns,” have found stability and a new home with RIIZE.
Looking back, I realize none of these stories are really about leaving. If anything, NCT has forced me to confront something I’ve been avoiding: if they’re allowed to grow up, then maybe I have to grow up too.
And perhaps that’s what this season of NCity is asking of its NCTzens, too. I used to think growing up meant outgrowing the things I loved. But I’ve realized that isn’t always true. Some things don’t hold you back as they grow alongside you. That’s what NCT has become for me. They’re no longer just the group that carried me through the uncertainty of the pandemic. They’ve become part of my youth, my first job, my friendships, my travels, and the person I’m still becoming.
This was never just a phase and it isn’t a chapter I’m trying to leave behind. It’s a part of my story that I’ll carry with me no matter how much NCity, or I, continue to change.
Being an idol is a job. Being a fan is a choice. But staying through every comeback, every hiatus, every goodbye, and every new beginning is choosing to love something without asking it to remain unchanged.
So, to my dearest Neos—Dream, 127, WayV and Wish—thank you for giving me a place to get lost when I needed an escape, and for helping me find myself when it was time to come home. Thank you for being there through sleepless nights, celebrations worth remembering, and moments I thought I’d never get through. Thank you for reminding me that home isn’t always a place. Sometimes, it’s a song, a concert or a group of strangers who somehow make the world feel a little less lonely.
That’s what growing up really is. It’s not holding on to the version of NCT I first fell in love with, but learning to love every version that comes after. Not asking this city to stay the same, but finding comfort in knowing that, no matter how its streets change, it will always lead me back to the person I became because of it.
Some places never stop feeling like home. If NCT and NCity keep changing, then maybe I can, too.
*Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not represent the official stance of MYX Global, its affiliates, or its staff.