How would I know that?
Of course I knew. You never shut up about green tea lattes—singing “green tea latte, green tea latte” until my ears bled.
“......”
But that was something I could only say in my head.
Joo Woosung, watching my reaction, let his lips curl faintly.
“A little while ago, a new manager suddenly handed me a green tea latte. Not my usual Americano. I thought it was weird and asked why. Turns out, it was from you, Seo Hoyun-ssi.”
“...When did you find out?”
“Hmm, a few months ago?”
So, from the beginning, he’d known I was suspicious.
Our gazes crossed in silence.
I turned away first, raised a hand, and sighed.
“...Let’s go inside. We’ll talk there.”
Having an argument out here on the main street near the hotel would be a disaster if someone noticed.
Joo Woosung must’ve agreed, because he followed without resistance.
We got in the elevator, scanned the hotel key, and pressed the floor button. The doors closed, and a suffocating silence settled between us.
“......”
“......”
I thought, why bother with excuses? It’s not like I’ll be sticking around long anyway. But my brain still scrambled to find some kind of story.
Inside the room, I flopped onto the sofa and cracked open a beer.
“Ahh.”
“......”
Even after making a complete fool of myself, beer still tasted like heaven.
Gesturing at the sofa across from me, I spoke to the unmoving Woosung.
“Woosung-ssi, you asked how I knew.”
“Yes.”
“I’m a Bloy.”
“...Excuse me?”
Strike first—that was the only way.
Even Min Jiheon hadn’t fully believed it, but I dragged out the same excuse I’d used on him.
I’d followed Black Call’s album release dates, watched every concept photo, teaser, and music video, even listened to plenty of their songs. From one angle, it wasn’t completely a lie.
“I’ve shown this much interest, and you don’t even consider I might be a fan? Hurts a little.”
“...So you knew my tastes because you’re my fan?”
“Of course.”
Even if Woosung tried to hide his preferences, chances were they’d already leaked to fans.
Fans wanted to know everything about their idols, no matter how trivial—even something like a phone case brand that showed up for one second during a live.
I leaned back with swagger, but Woosung muttered lowly,
“...Strange.”
Rubbing his chin, he stared straight at me.
“If you were really my fan, I would’ve heard rumors by now. But I’ve never once heard your name.”
“I never revealed it publicly. Just cheered quietly from ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ my room. I’m a bit shy.”
“...Shy.”
“I collected your poka and bought all the albums too.”
Strictly speaking, they’d piled up because Woosung shoved them at me even when I said I didn’t want them.
“Really?”
“Yup.”
“Then tell me one of my most popular photo cards.”
What is this, a quiz show?
You want me to know the rankings of your photocards?
If this were an actual TV question, the staff would call it impossible and throw a fit.
“Well... all your photocards are expensive and hard to find—”
“So, which one?”
“......”
I tried to dodge with vagueness, but Woosung clung to it like a bulldog.
Back in my PD days, I memorized idol resumes inside and out, but photocard stats? No way.
I scrambled through half-buried memories until one surfaced: Black Call’s Christmas album from two years ago.
“...The Christmas poka?”
“......”
“The one with the red knit and lights wrapped around.”
I remembered fuming at how blatantly exploitative the album bundle was.
Even Ji-hyun had said Woosung’s card from that set was nicknamed the “Banpo Bridge poka,” nearly impossible to get.
Hearing my answer, Woosung went quiet. Then he narrowed his eyes.
“...We never released a Christmas album.”
“...What?”
...Fuck.
So in this world, Black Call had standards. They’d never pulled that stunt.
Seeing there was no salvaging this, I braced myself. If he pressed one more question, I’d just kick him out and be done with it.
But when Woosung saw my face, he suddenly burst out laughing.
“Pfft, this is hilarious.”
“......”
“Come on. Like I wouldn’t recognize one of my own fans?”
He reached over, rummaged through my bag, and grabbed a can.
“You know what your eyes are saying right now? One more question and I’ll kill you. That’s not a fan’s look.”
He downed the beer in a single gulp, then crushed the can with one hand.
“No need to make excuses. I’m not the type to force answers out of someone who doesn’t want to give them.”
“Oh, thank you so much.”
I snatched another beer.
“I just wanted to know why you did it. Too many people come at me with their own excuses, so.”
“Don’t you feel embarrassed saying that?”
“Why? It’s true.”
He emptied the next can in one go, too.
“And you’re obviously not the type obsessed with popularity. So why suddenly go overboard? I was just curious.”
“......”
“Ah, but I said I wouldn’t ask anymore. Relax.”
I arched a brow and pointed at the wrecked cans.
“You drank all my beer.”
“Seriously? It’s just beer. I can buy more.”
Muttering, he marched to the minibar and hauled out more. A bad feeling hit me—it looked like this would turn into a full drinking session.
“I was planning to drink alone tonight anyway.”
“......”
“Good to have company.”
He grinned as he picked up the room phone, suggesting we order room service.
“You don’t have a morning schedule tomorrow, right?”
Finally, this was the Woosung I knew.
.
.
.
“—So then~! I just said it right there! Like, what’s the point of lip-syncing when I can actually sing live?!”
“Sometimes agencies just pull dumb shit.”
“Exactly! It drives me crazy!!”
In the end, Woosung knocked back five beers and even polished off wine from room service, winding up completely drunk.
He must’ve been carrying some heavy frustration from earlier schedules before coming to the studio.
“In the end, no matter what I do, people will complain. Why can’t they just let me do what I’m best at....”
His grumbling carried bitterness, even sorrow.
Yeah, if every idol were like you, lip-sync wouldn’t exist.
I let his complaints wash over me and poured more beer down my throat.
“Ahh, I feel lighter saying it out loud. I have nowhere else to unload this stuff...”
“For someone so dissatisfied, you sure work damn hard.”
Woosung tilted his head slightly, then flopped back on the couch with a sigh.
“That’s just inertia.”
“Inertia?”
“It’s what I’ve always done. This job has its ups and downs, so my mood swings with it.”
His face flushed red, he stared blankly at the hotel ceiling.
“...But lately, even what I’ve always done doesn’t come out right. That’s the real problem.”
Then he closed his eyes tight, opened them, and looked at me.
“The fact I’m sitting here drinking with someone I’m not even close to—doesn’t that show how pathetic I am?”
“You do look pitiful.”
“...The hell did you just say....”
His grumbling was endless. Tired of hearing it, I decided to give him what he wanted.
“So, how pathetic are you?”
“Just... sometimes I get furious for no reason. Sometimes I hate everything. Then I fall into endless anxiety. And worst of all, there’s no end to any of it. ...Listen to me rambling.”
I propped my chin on my hand and let him vent, not interrupting.
He didn’t seem to expect agreement anyway, and soon continued on his own.
“But sometimes at work, these fleeting, unexpected good moments come. Like running into a fan who’s supported me from the start, or nailing choreography that gave me hell.”
“......”
“It’s those moments that keep me from running away. That’s why I’m still here.”
Silence hung for a beat. Then Woosung suddenly sat up and asked,
“But! Hoyun-ssi, why did you help me?”
“Didn’t you say you wouldn’t ask?”
“It’s not like you did it out of love. And we’re not even close.”
“So?”
“Was I just convenient?”
“...You really piss me off.”
He snickered, clearly amused at getting the reaction he wanted.
I decided to ask something I’d been curious about.
“Hey, have you seen me dance?”
“What, suddenly dropping honorifics?”
I’m older, aren’t I? He scowled, but gave me a sidelong glance.
“Well... I saw it.”
“And?”
“...Do I have to say?”
I held his gaze silently until he scratched his cheek.
I wanted to hear it from his own mouth: that I wasn’t just some hopeless klutz. At least here, he couldn’t call me one.
“...Not bad, but...”
He rolled his eyes, then trailed off.
“...Like an earnest klutz who’s worked really hard.”
“......”
You son of a bitch.
***
When I jolted awake, my head was pounding like it would split. Tracing back my last memory, I recalled Woosung staggering out of the room after we’d gone through three bottles of wine.
Thankfully, it was still dawn. I had to look human again before shooting started in the afternoon.
‘They told me to come with full costume and makeup....’
My throat felt like sandpaper. I drained a whole bottle of water and collapsed back onto the bed, phone in hand.
[Title: Real-time Joo Woosung in Japan
Japan_Joosung&Hoyun.png
Apparently eating with Seo Hoyun.
└What???
└Are they close????]
Reports of Woosung were already spreading through online communities. No dating rumors, though.
‘So it passed safely.’
Guess I needn’t have meddled at all.
‘This is really it. Done.’
The system error would be dealt with soon. Woosung seemed to be fine.
Nothing left for me to gain.
“Tch.”
I hadn’t expected anything in return, but still, there was nothing to show for it.
At most, I’d gotten a glimpse of why Woosung wanted to help me.
“The hardest part is that there’s no end to any of it.”
Woosung had reached the top from debut and found nowhere further to go. No end he could discover for himself.
Maybe that’s why he was curious. To see what would happen when someone like me, who seemed to have a clear end goal, actually reached it.
Would this world’s Woosung, treasuring fleeting sparks while drowning in endless unease, be happier?
Or the other one, who flung himself into uncertainty to carve out his own path?
I had no right to decide which was better.
It was his life.
“...Wow, I really am getting old.”
Having the luxury to care about someone else’s feelings.
Rubbing my aching forehead, I saw a text pop up.
[Genius Main Dancer Japan Senpai: (photo)]
[Genius Main Dancer Japan Senpai: Turns out there was a Christmas album lol]
When had he saved my number? And what was with that contact name?
Wait—hadn’t he insisted there wasn’t a Christmas album?
I immediately searched, and there it was—the familiar cover.
“...That bastard.”
He’d played me perfectly.
I swallowed my anger as my phone kept buzzing.
[Genius Main Dancer Japan Senpai: Ignoring me, huh]
[Genius Main Dancer Japan Senpai: (photo)]
I tapped to zoom in.
Under shards of brilliant light, Woosung crouched slightly, gaze blank, like he was about to launch into a glorious flight.
“...Damn.”
He really was shining.
[Me: I’ll report this leak]
[Genius Main Dancer Japan Senpai: hahahahahahaha]
Clicking my tongue, I turned off the phone.
“A born idol.”
An idol who didn’t need my worry, who was meant to keep shining.
And sincerely, I hoped he would.
