If she could, Ha-eun would have wanted to erase the two characters Diah from Da-yeon's mind completely.
If only she could.
‘This is the first time I’ve felt this powerless...’
As is often the case when you find yourself thinking, If only I could...,
the thought came because it was something that simply couldn’t be done. Ha-eun was overwhelmed by the bitter reality of facing an issue she couldn’t solve.
No matter how much she wracked her brain, there was no solution.
There was no way to prevent the disaster of Diah’s voice pack playing through Da-yeon’s pristine white earphones.
The fact that Da-yeon would end up owning and enjoying a compilation of Diah’s cute voice lines was already a problem in itself.
But the greater issue was the potential for an even worse disaster to occur.
What if, just what if...
“Hey, Ha-eun... you should listen to this... It’s so cute and soothing...”
If Da-yeon ever said those words and played Diah’s cheerful voice for Ha-eun,
there was no doubt that Ha-eun would be faced with the ultimate humiliation when Da-yeon’s earphones were inserted into her ears.
In the end, all Ha-eun could do was politely decline Da-yeon’s suggestion to also buy Diah’s merchandise.
She had no choice but to fear the disaster that would unfold in the future. The crushing reality was that she was helpless.
Sigh...
Ha-eun couldn’t hold back a groan as she buried her face in her hands.
She slumped her head low.
“Ugh...”
Upon hearing Ha-eun’s sudden change, Da-yeon’s voice, full of confusion, came through.
“What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?”
“...It’s because of you.”
Ha-eun’s response was a whispered thought, hidden behind her now-closed eyes.
She could almost hear a trace of laughter in Da-yeon’s confused voice, though it could have been a momentary misunderstanding.
After a few moments of shuffling around, Da-yeon pulled out her phone again to browse the promotional post for Diah’s merchandise.
“And I’ll put the acrylic stand on my bed’s shelf. The keychain should go on my wallet.”
Right next to Ha-eun, as if to make sure she could hear, Da-yeon murmured a list of the items she intended to buy.
Her voice wasn’t meant for Ha-eun, but the timing made it impossible not to hear.
“Hm, it would’ve been nice if they had character cushions. Why isn’t there a cushion?”
“...Maybe they just didn’t offer it...”
Ha-eun knew she had to keep a poker face no matter what Da-yeon said if she wanted to protect her identity.
But at that moment, the best she could do was show no interest in the Diah merchandise.
Soon, the lunch hour was nearly over.
Ha-eun quickly stood up, citing the excuse that it was time to prepare for her fifth class, and quickly walked away, heading toward her classroom.
And as Ha-eun left, Da-yeon, still sitting on the bench in the hallway, let out a quiet chuckle.
“...Pfft.”
Ha-eun didn’t hear the meaningful laugh, unaware of Da-yeon’s amusement.
***
“Hey, Ha-eun, did something happen at school?”
The moment Ha-eun stepped into Ju Jung-yun’s van, she was greeted with her manager’s curious voice.
In response, Ha-eun muttered vaguely, brushing it off with, “It’s nothing.”
Afterward, she shifted the conversation to the upcoming final recording session for Infinite Challenge Music Festival, scheduled for the following week.
“Next week, do we need to go to the broadcasting station instead of the studio?”
“Yes, and we’ll stop by the makeup shop first.”
The next recording was a final gathering of all the festival participants at the Gocheok Sky Dome before their big performance.
Unlike previous sessions where everyone worked individually with their partners, this time, all the participants would come together at the studio. They’d discuss their expectations and excitement for the performance.
However, as Infinite Challenge was an entertainment show, not a documentary, the day’s recording would also include filming for various mini-games, with rewards related to the performance.
‘I think they said we’d determine the performance order during this session.’
She recalled that among the mini-game prizes was the right to choose the order of the performances.
In other words, to secure her preferred slot, Ha-eun needed to give her best and win the games.
While she wasn’t sure what the mini-games would entail, she was determined to earn the highest score possible, regardless of the challenge.
Caught up in thoughts about the upcoming recording, she soon found herself standing in a familiar practice room.
As she walked inside, she heard a cheerful greeting from Yoon Si-hyuk, who was sitting on the practice room floor waiting for her.
“Hi, Ha-eun!”
“Hello.”
Not long after, they began rehearsing their performance of the song “T.R.E.N.D.”, the piece Ha-eun and Si-hyuk’s team would be performing at the Gocheok Sky Dome.
They spent considerable time practicing their synchronization with everyone who would share the stage.
As with all their rehearsals since completing “T.R.E.N.D.,” everything went smoothly this time as well.
From practicing their stage movements to perfecting the choreography they’d designed together, they managed to finish without any mistakes.
However, since the rehearsal itself was part of the Infinite Challenge Music Festival broadcast, the breaks between practice sessions were used to film casual conversations with Si-hyuk for additional content.
To put it simply, Ha-eun had no trouble holding her own in these interactions.
Her partner, Yoon Si-hyuk, was not only a veteran entertainer with over ten years of experience but also a longtime fan of hers.
“I’ve been wondering about this for a while. Did you really do all the swordplay scenes yourself?”
“Oh, yes. There weren’t any scenes with a stunt double.”
“So, even that scene where you took out the assassins in the palace? That was all you?”
“Yes.”
“Whoa, I’d better not mess with you!”
The conversation naturally flowed from her previous works, like Moonlight Drawn by Clouds, to her current project.
“Didn’t you mention that your current drama also has action scenes?”
“Yes, lately, we’ve been filming shootouts. The guns are bigger than I expected.”
“Is it different from how it looks in videos?”
“Very different. The weight surprised me too.”
It was clear how Si-hyuk had managed to maintain his position in the entertainment industry for over a decade—his ability to draw out interesting stories was evident.
The last topic of their conversation was Ha-eun’s daily life.
“Isn’t it exhausting having to get up early for school? Back in my day, mornings were the hardest part.”
It was a question similar to the one she’d been asked by cameraman Kwak Eun-sung during the filming of 2 Days & 3 Nights.
Ha-eun was about to give Si-hyuk the same answer she’d given back then when a different thought crossed her mind.
“Ha-eun, your commercial will start airing two weeks before Chuseok. If you have any questions, feel free to reach out.”
‘Oh, right.’
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She remembered the Sears mattress commercial she’d filmed, which was set to air during the peak fall wedding and moving season.
“Well, I used to feel pretty tired before, but after switching to a new mattress, it’s definitely better now.”
Her response, picked up by the microphone clipped to her chest, was slightly different from what she’d said during 2 Days & 3 Nights.
It wasn’t surprising that Si-hyuk’s curiosity was piqued.
“What kind of mattress did you get?”
“Oh, I didn’t buy it. It was part of a sponsorship deal for the commercial I filmed.”
Although she avoided mentioning the brand name due to broadcasting constraints, Ha-eun believed that simply talking about the commercial could positively impact Sears’ sales.
However, she had no idea what kind of ripple effect her mention would have on the furniture industry.
Nor did she realize how her value as a brand ambassador would drastically increase.
Right now, her focus was solely on the upcoming broadcast of Infinite Challenge Music Festival, set to air this Saturday.
As it marked her first appearance on a variety show as a singer rather than an actress, she was most curious about how people would respond.
What made this even more significant was the fact that the festival’s performance footage would air during the Chuseok holidays.
‘...Let’s make this great.’
She wanted her performance to leave an unforgettable impression on viewers relaxing at home during the holiday.
She wanted the name “Lee Ha-eun” to be etched even more clearly into their minds.
This goal hadn’t changed since the day she accepted Lee Jun’s offer to join the festival.
She dreamed of making the Gocheok Sky Dome performance a defining moment in her career as an entertainer.
As Ha-eun organized her thoughts and solidified her vision as a performer, another important message arrived on her phone, signaling a new milestone.
[The sample goods for Illusionary Realm are finished, Ha-eun. They should arrive this week, so let me know when you get them!]
If the Gocheok Sky Dome performance represented a turning point for Ha-eun as an entertainer,
then the release of her first cover song and merchandise marked a significant milestone for her as Diah.
Both moments were crucial to her, and she was determined not to neglect either.
This was why she began meticulously planning how to integrate her streams with the release of her cover song and merchandise, ensuring the best possible outcome for both events.
After much deliberation, Ha-eun finally arrived at a decision: a marathon broadcast.
“It’s better to do it all in one go...”
The release of Diah’s cover song and merchandise were both monumental events for the Noeulis.
Both events had enough weight to draw their full attention.
Instead of spreading the broadcasts across multiple days and diluting their interest, Ha-eun decided to consolidate everything into a single extended session, maximizing the excitement and engagement.
Ha-eun reached out to Illusionary Realm’s general manager with her plan.
[Ha-eun, based on what you’re suggesting, it seems like the stream might go on for quite a while. Will your schedule allow it?]
“Yes, I don’t have any other commitments on the day of the cover song release.”
Ultimately, they decided to split the marathon broadcast into two parts:
Part 1 for the release of Diah’s first cover song and Part 2 to showcase Diah’s merchandise.
By combining the two events into a single day, Ha-eun aimed to amplify interest in both.
Plans were also in motion to review other members’ cover songs and merchandise as soon as possible.
In particular, Ha-eun was eager about the broadcast reviewing Yuna’s cover song—a project she had poured her heart into.
“...I can’t wait.”
It was exhilarating to think that the song Ha-eun had loved most in her previous life was something she had now coached and refined to present to the world.
For now, her focus was on Diah.
As the first Illusionary Realm member to release both a cover song and merchandise, Diah’s success would set the tone for the others.
Finally, the day of Diah’s cover song and merchandise broadcast arrived.
Without saying a word, she listened, letting the music steady her nerves.
♪──♪♪───♪♪─♬♪
Diah’s usual high-energy vibe had been toned down, replaced with a more serene atmosphere.
It wasn’t quite like the dazzling skill and clear timbre of Pinocchio; instead, it was a voice characterized by its composed simplicity.
Ha-eun wasn’t sure how others would perceive it, but to her, it perfectly captured a “serious” side of Diah.
As the countdown began, the chat became increasingly animated.
Click.
The previously empty broadcast screen lit up with the music video for Diah’s first cover song, “Faded Staccato.”
The serene illustrations that filled the screen quickly grabbed everyone’s attention.
Judging by the overwhelmingly positive reactions in the chat, it seemed her decision was correct.
As the instrumental intro faded and the first vocal part arrived, Ha-eun began to sing.
“Disjointed. A mess. So clumsy it was...♪”
Instead of the full music video, she streamed the instrumental track (MR) and sang live.
Even though over ten thousand Noeulis were now watching, not a single one realized that what they were hearing was a live performance.
While Ha-eun could have simply played the pre-recorded music video, she wanted to momentarily fulfill the dream that had driven her to learn to sing in the first place.
So, she left her microphone on.
Her gaze drifted to the small Diah acrylic stand on the streaming desk.
Behind it, her monitor displayed an overwhelming flood of praise.
Her vision blurred slightly as emotions welled up, even though “Faded Staccato” wasn’t a sad song.
Just being able to sing like this felt like a dream come true.
“...How was it?”