Beep-boop, beep-boop, beep-boop-beep!
Dri-ring!
With frantic fingers pounding the keypad at the front door, In young burst inside, hair disheveled.
It was finally Seon Ah hyun, returning from the fishing boat shoot.
She must have seen the rapid-fire messages—“Cha Yoo jin collapsed, woke up, discharged, under observation, wait his memories changed”—and come running in a total panic.
“Hey, guys, I’m....”
“.......”
“.......”
“Uh, Ah hyun?”
“Welcome back, Ah hyun. You must be exhausted....”
But the dorm’s atmosphere was a complete wreck—like a wake where pouring raw soju would hardly seem out of place. There wasn’t a drop of alcohol on the table, but if anyone offered to dash out and buy a bottle, no one would stop them. It was utter chaos.
“Y-Yoo jin...?”
“......hm.”
And Yoo jin wasn’t here. The Steer version of Cha Yoo jin had, after announcing he had nothing more to say, retreated to what he claimed was his room.
—That’s all I’ve got to say.
‘Damn it.’
It was a total no-go.
“Ah hyun, take a seat and rest. You must’ve been scared.”
“Y-yes...”
I cleared a chair for Seon Ah hyun, then downed another glass of cold water in silence.
Cha Yoo jin’s roommate was still the same as in the old dorm: Bae Sejin. Damn it.
“Thirty days... that’s what it is, right? If we do things right over that time... it should work.”
She nodded as if fully aware of the situation’s gravity, but she didn’t know the real problem.
‘He thinks you’re a drug dealer....’
Bae Sejin, ignorant of that massive misunderstanding, simply resolved as the eldest brother to look after the youngest until his memories returned.
“Yeah. Sejin’s right.”
He wasn’t. It’d be a miracle if I didn’t end up grabbing him by the collar.
I pressed my temple.
‘Why did those “update” pop-ups suddenly restore the Steer memories in him? And why did he run off in there?’
Time to revise the plan.
‘First, clear up Bae Sejin’s misunderstanding....’
But would he believe me? Even if he did, that meant admitting his group’s career was wrecked by a false drug stigma.
‘And meanwhile, we get lucky he’s not a drug dealer here....’
That comparison made me even angrier—he might refuse to cooperate.
‘Sigh....’
I heard Bae Sejin mutter beside me.
“Maybe it’s only natural.”
“.......”
“From Yoo jin’s perspective... waking up somewhere unfamiliar...”
“Right...”
Then Big Sejin—who’d been quietly observing—shrugged and spoke up.
“Well... I don’t think you have to worry that much, do you?”
“...??”
“Sejin hyung?”
“Even if he had a different experience... Yoo jin is still Yoo jin, right? So until about age nineteen, he grew up exactly the same.”
“And?”
“So his preferences probably haven’t changed much in a few years.”
Big Sejin glanced at the brownies and cookies Bae Sejin and Kim Rae bin had fetched.
“...!”
Knock-knock-knock.
“Mind if I come in?”
Ryu Cheong woo spoke quietly but firmly, then, seconds later, opened the door Yoo jin had gone through.
Creak.
Inside, among half-unpacked bags, Cha Yoo jin lay sprawled on his bed. He covered his face with one arm, then spoke without moving.
“...Now that’s going too far.”
“Huh?”
“I said I’m not answering. Twice.”
He lowered his arm, revealing his eyes, then looked directly at me.
“He knows you too—ask him.”
All eyes turned to me.
Hmm.
I crossed my arms. Big Sejin cheerfully stepped into the room.
“Wait, Yoo jin. I’m not here to ask you again. I just want to talk.”
“A talk?”
“Yeah~ We live in the same house now, so we should at least introduce ourselves—so you feel comfortable. You need to know what’s going on, right?”
Big Sejin sat on the floor with a grin. Yoo jin tilted his head slightly.
“I don’t need that.”
“See? I thought you might wonder how long you have to stay here—just my thought!”
Without waiting for Yoo jin’s reply, Big Sejin calmly summarized: what I’d told him, plus the bizarre events we’d all experienced.
“...So, we figured you’d only need to stay about thirty days.”
“.......”
Yoo jin said nothing, but after listening fully, his expression darkened.
“That’s really....”
“You were going to call me a nerd, right? Classic Yoo jin~.”
“.......”
Yoo jin stared at Big Sejin for a moment—then burst out laughing.
“Hey,”
“Yeah?”
“The Yoo jin you know isn’t me. Speaking like that isn’t polite, in my view.”
“...!”
Kim Rae bin flinched at the rebuke.
“Is that so?”
Big Sejin remained unfazed.
“Then let’s just agree on our boundaries.”
“Sure. [Nice phrase. Don’t cross the line.]”
Yoo jin, still smiling faintly, tried to lie back—yet Big Sejin wasn’t done.
“You know boundaries are mutual respect, right? I’m asking you. After all, we did participate in together, so we have a connection~”
“.......”
Yoo jin paused. Ryu Cheong woo held out his hand.
“Right. We just want basic courtesy and respect.”
“.......”
“Yoo jin.”
Yoo jin got up and looked each of us in the eye—perhaps sizing us up.
‘Connection.’
From his perspective, Bae Sejin had destroyed Steer with drugs, Big Sejin quit the show over school violence, and I hadn’t even debuted. Yet not a word of that.
Instead, he simply raised his hand and shook Ryu Cheong woo’s.
“Understood.”
“Thank you.”
Ryu Cheong woo smiled.
With the friendliest and the calmest members engaged, mission one was complete.
Only then did the room’s tension ease. Bae Sejin signaled, and Kim Rae bin hurriedly offered the bag.
‘Phase two.’
“Yoo jin, you haven’t eaten since morning. Try these!”
“.......”
Brownies and cookies.
Yoo jin peered into the bag and asked in disbelief,
“Brownies? Did Kim Rae bin really buy these in the hospital?”
“...? Yes!”
“Oh.”
At that, Yoo jin let out a light chuckle—like greeting an old friend.
I seized the moment and reached in.
“One.”
“...Yes?”
Without looking, I grabbed a brownie, unwrapped it, and stuffed it into my mouth.
‘...Sweet.’
A performance to prove these were ordinary—no drugs—in the brownies. Ridiculous, but necessary... Kim Rae bin had gone with Bae Sejin, so I had to show they weren’t tampered with.
I swallowed, nodded.
“Tasty.”
“...Mundae hyung says if you like this, odds are it suits your taste.”
“......OK.”
Yoo jin didn’t refuse. He grabbed the bag, inspected the wrappers with a somewhat sour look, then tore them open and devoured brownie and cookie after cookie with gusto.
TeSTAR watched the whole thing.
“.......”
“.......”
‘Feels like feeding raw meat to a wild animal.’
If sweets cheer him up biologically, we’d see some reaction soon. I decided to wait.
A few minutes later.
“Dinner—pizza? Bulgogi pizza?”
“I like ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) that pizza.”
“Okay~”
Surprisingly, this was a brand-new conversation—proof the mood had genuinely softened.
Yoo jin had downed all the brownies and cookies in the bag. When he realized no one would quiz him further about his “group,” he gradually slipped into behavior resembling the Yoo jin we’d known.
‘Though the conversation level is... low.’
Still, it was progress.
“Cola.”
“Oh, thanks.”
“Any questions about our situation or us, feel free to ask.”
“Got it.”
Steer Yoo jin finally joined us around the table for pizza and light small talk. He even broached our current predicament.
“Well, we’re wrapping up most of our group activities. Just a few schedules left, right?”
His reply was predictable:
“But I’m not part of this team. I won’t participate.”
“Hm.”
“Okay.”
We couldn’t force him to work. And fortunately, TeSTAR’s group promotions were nearly over anyway—he had only a month’s gap before solo activities, which could be excused for health reasons.
So the issue was clear:
“...What about our reality show...?”
“.......”
The reality program we’d ambitiously prepared was about to fall apart.
‘Damn it.’
How do you film a group reality without one member?
“The shoot can’t be postponed.”
“Yes.”
We’d barely secured the slot. This format couldn’t absorb a missing member—if we cut him, we’d have to insert extra footage later, or risk rumors of discord or members leaving.
So I spoke up:
“...Let’s film anyway.”
“Film?”
“Record it now. In a month, when Yoo jin’s back, we’ll shoot his segments and splice them in. What do you think?”
“.......”
It was our best option. But Kim Rae bin murmured in a low voice:
“When Yoo jin returns, he’ll be mad we filmed fun stuff without him....”
“.......”
“Hey, that’s persuasive, Rae bin.”
“Thank you....”
I covered my face with one hand.
‘Damn it.’
Was it my fault for applying that damned system to the company and causing all this? Yet if we hadn’t, the album might have flopped.
It was maddening. But no point whining—what we needed were solutions.
‘Think....’
I wracked my brain, then spoke after a moment:
“Statistically speaking...”
“......?”
“When Yoo jin returns... there’s a chance he’ll remember what’s happening now.”
Like in the system’s virtual world, memories created there hadn’t vanished. So...
“Having him join the reality shoot now is our best bet.”
“...!”
“But... he said he wouldn’t participate.”
“I’ll at least bring it up.”
This isn’t a stage performance, so if Steer Yoo jin wanted something in return, we could negotiate. And I had more to say.
“Anything else?”
I stepped onto the balcony. Yoo jin, window ajar, stared out the glass with a less-than-welcoming look and then turned to me.
“I need to tell you about your roommate.”
“.......”
He sighed?
[Hey, I’m not an idiot. Of course he’s not involved with drugs.]
“...!”
[You seem to know Steer well—calling that guy your “roommate” proves it. But.]
He spoke dryly:
“I don’t care.”
“.......”
[Since he’s not the person I knew, I won’t treat him carelessly.]
He patted my shoulder.
[But don’t cross my line. You know? You need to keep your boundaries too.]
With that, he walked away from the balcony.
“.......”
I stood by the window. A chill summer breeze blew. I sensed:
‘It didn’t work.’
No matter the deal, talking about TeSTAR wouldn’t have reached him.
“Sigh.”
Better that I didn’t broach it. But nobody expected what came next. His “boundary” would be crossed far sooner than any of us imagined.
