This morning, one of TeSTAR’s managers found himself greeted by an unexpected new “family member.”
“–Mundae’s not feeling well, so Cheongwoo called a relative. Apparently you’re almost like family.”
‘Family joining the schedule...’
He’d always been known for working by the book and never spoiled TeSTAR with unreasonable demands, so he couldn’t exactly refuse. If the company wanted this rare favor granted, he had to comply.
“Sigh...”
Resigned, he went out to meet the members—prepared for a complicated day caring for someone he didn’t even really know, while nominally acting as “day-manager.”
Finally, he met that “relative”...
“Hello. I’m Ryu Geon woo.”
“Oh, yes.”
He looked like someone who’d been locked in a library for five years and fed nothing but vegetables—handsome, and obviously a “relative.”
Surprising, but not strange.
“I’ve finished head count—no member has any special issues. I’ve already informed the company about Mundae.”
“Oh, yes.”
That’s when things got odd.
This guy... was so efficient.
“Wow~ Nice to work with you, hyung~”
“Oh.”
“Um—would you like something to drink while we go...?”
“Thanks.”
The members treated him like an old friend. You’d think they’d been through seven years of hardships together.
Question marks filled the manager’s head, but his body simply moved on auto-pilot to follow the day’s schedule.
When they reached the car, Ryu Geon woo raised his hand.
“Shall I drive?”
Drive?
Normally the least experienced person does the heavy lifting, but this case was different.
The manager hesitated, then nodded.
“Oh, um... yes. Thank you.”
“Of course. Thank you.”
Rather than risk an awkward scuffle, he let Geon woo take the wheel. The company was just nearby—he’d punch it into the GPS and let the schedule take care of itself.
‘After a few hiccups, he’ll hand the seat back—’
But Ryu Geon woo slid into the driver’s seat and, without asking, expertly set the navigation.
“...?”
“Let’s head to the company first.”
“Oh, yes.”
He checked the rest of the schedule as they drove off.
“This morning we’ve got a meeting, then a shop visit, then consultations—should wrap by 1 PM. Lunch? Let me know where you want to go.”
“I want chicken!”
“We’ll vote. Anyone object? ...Alright. But since we’re right before promo, let’s go boiled.”
The manager in the passenger seat suddenly got an unearned break.
“...?”
Ryu Geon woo glanced in the rear-view mirror and offered another tip.
“Rae bin, your hair.”
“Oh—thanks!”
He looked like a cross between a veteran kindergarten teacher and a seasoned manager—and it somehow worked.
The manager blurted out, “Wh-what do you normally do?”
“Oh, I’m a civil servant in administration.”
“...?!”
Before they knew it, the car pulled up at the company. Without asking, Geon woo tapped his ID card and breezed inside, then confirmed the members were all in.
“So... you’re not coming in?”
“...? I need to get coffee. As the newbie.”
How did he know that?
“I’ll get it at the discount café nearby. Four iced decaf Americanos, two chamomiles, one hot chocolate.”
“.......”
“I ordered as soon as we got out of the car. What does the director want?”
The manager gave up trying to think it through.
“I feel like I’m going to die.”
“Aw, you’ll be fine.”
Lee Sejin laughed as he passed a water bottle. Park Mundae gripped it and gulped.
[eek!]
It was a brutal marathon. Park Mundae hadn’t lied—there was no schedule more nerve-racking than live-radio. TeSTAR’s comeback recording and pre-content shoots were already done, so there was no real strain—except the training schedule... and the management schedule!
‘I don’t even know where I am....’
Meeting room, salon, vocal training room, bone-setting clinic—he raced around so fast he was handed interview questions on the move.
“You don’t need to read them. Not for today.”
That pop-up came from Geon woo—Park Mundae inside him.
But being told he could skip them didn’t mean he got a break. Five minutes later, the car stopped again at the company.
The destination was the B1 dance studio.
“The bridge section you mentioned has been tweaked, but it’s tricky. You okay?”
“Yep~”
“Always reliable.”
Their choreographer had combined seven drafts into the final pick and would run it for forty minutes. Geon woo gently announced a special note.
“Mundae is excused from practice today due to injury.”
They’d agreed on that—Mundae couldn’t be expected to do moves he’d never learned.
“Oh, right. I’ll step out then.”
Without missing a beat, the revision demo started and “Park Mundae” was sidelined.
‘Wow...’
Park Mundae—not really himself—slumped into a chair, unsure whether to be relieved or bewildered.
And then promptly forgot everything.
‘Amazing.’
Just repeating the bridge part up close showed its power. Knowing it was an unreleased song made his hands tremble.
When he glanced over...
“...!”
Right beside the mirror, Ryu Geon woo—Park Mundae’s body—rapidly scanned the choreography with his eyes.
‘You’re memorizing it visually.’
Same body, different inhabitant. Proof that first-person matters.
And... it was supposed to be Geon woo practicing this body right now.
“.......”
‘This won’t do.’
As the status-window entity, Park Mundae took pride in his achievements—he’d only helped his hyung so far. Now he was the one holding things up!
‘This isn’t right.’
So when the next schedule appeared...
“It’s PT at the training room at 9:10.”
—Here we go!
“Hyung!”
“Hmm?”
Geon woo, leaning against the wall, turned at Park Mundae’s call.
“Can’t I just skip the PT? The body’s the same!”
“Hmm....”
“Want to try it? It’s pretty fun.”
Geon woo readily agreed.
Bolstered by that reaction, Park Mundae resolved to join the PT!
“Yes!”
He shouldn’t have.
He should’ve checked Geon woo’s expression...
But lacking a 340° eagle’s vision, Park Mundae now lay sprawled on the training-room floor, dazed.
...Advanced-level courses are no joke.
After torturous effort, he finally felt reprieve—only because his muscles remembered enough to keep him alive.
‘Hah....’
He drank the water from Lee Sejin like a life potion.
But the break ended immediately.
“Time to move!”
[eek!]
Right—idol prep-season schedules leave rest to the minute.
At that moment, someone reached down to help him up.
“...!”
Bae Sejin!
“Oh, thanks.”
“No problem.”
Sejin murmured, then hesitated before adding, “It’s normal to struggle your first time, so don’t overthink it.”
“...! Thanks!”
He nodded once and walked off. Park Mundae realized Sejin truly was kind. In fact, most of TeSTAR was.
Despite the crazy pace, no one treated the stranger in the group with suspicion or mockery. Outgoing members even checked in as they passed.
“Hey.”
“Huh? Yes?”
By the time schedules wound down and night fell, the car pulled up at the dorm.
Cha Yoo jin spoke up.
“Talk casually with me! I’m younger, it’s fine!”
“Ah—um, sure.”
Exhausted, Park Mundae relaxed and let his guard down.
Ryu Geon woo checked from the driver’s seat as the two chatted.
‘Not bad.’
I nodded. Mundae had suffered, but everything was wrapping up smoothly.
“Ahem, good work today.”
“Not at all. Thank you.”
I exchanged polite farewells with the manager. As soon as Lee Sejin and Ryu Geon woo vouched for him, Ryu Geon woo’s day-manager “interview” passed in record time.
‘Family ties are everything.’
With Mundae ill and no direct relatives, Geon woo’s excuse—bringing in his cousin—had worked.
The company staff must’ve thought the dazed, sunny “Mundae version” in Geon woo’s body looked unwell—so Geon woo smoothly took charge of “mental care.”
And driving... after a few nighttime rides, he’d gotten the hang of it.
‘Thanks to Geon woo having his own car.’
He’d even offered, “Hyung, /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ maybe you should take your driver’s test again—this is a shame.”
‘Anyway, it’s been a while.’
Fortunately the car hummed through Seoul without issues all day. As a one-off family helper rotating at the wheel for no pay, he got no harsh treatment.
After reviewing the day, I nodded.
‘No loose ends.’
I planned to head straight inside and crash—when Yoo jin called out.
“Hyung Mundae!”
“.......”
Hey.
Yoo jin quickly corrected.
“Oh! Geon woo hyung! Let’s get ice cream! Me, Rae bin, and BM!”
“BM?”
[He said “Big Moon” is a special nickname, so we made it hip.]
‘Big Moon?’
I couldn’t follow that logic. Still, Park Mundae—er, Geon woo—brightened at the offer.
Rae bin leaned in and whispered seriously.
“Hyung, given the circumstances, it might be safest to head straight inside....”
“Nooo! Rae bin betrayed me! The one who said he wanted ice cream is gone!”
“...Betrayal? Saying you want it doesn’t mean you’ll buy it! Yoo jin’s leaping in logic!”
“Okay, okay.”
Rae bin was right—going back to the dorm would be best, but...
‘Gotta sweeten the deal.’
After eyeing the manager, I switched seats and took the wheel.
He’d handle the guys; I’d tag along here.
“Shall we? There’s a convenience store right ahead.”
“Yeah!”
“Oh—sure!”
“Mask on.”
I drove a few seconds, parked, and stayed outside while they went in.
“Hyung! Aren’t you coming?”
“I’m tired. You two pick.”
“OK~”
I watched the door close, then turned my gaze to the street.
That taxi.
“....”
Actually, I’d just seen it tail us.
‘Of all times....’
In industry lingo, a sasaeng—stalker.
