Pulling a cap down low that I’d hurriedly bought in the underground mall at Express Bus Terminal Station, I walked toward where the billboard had been hung.
Ding!
[Why did you come here?]
“Because I’m curious.”
About who the guy was who said I owed him money.
At first, when I saw the message saying I’d borrowed money and should pay it back, I brushed it off as fans’ playful affection. You know, with the nuance of “so contact me.”
But as time went by, the phrase “Hoyun, pay me back. And contact me.” rustled in my head.
It felt strangely familiar, like a tone I knew.
Then, all of a sudden, I remembered my manager’s call during the filming of Dead after Hope, saying someone had come looking for me.
Back then there had been so many people trying to reach me that, honestly, it was more likely to be nothing—but I decided it needed checking, so I casually asked my manager.
“Manager, did anyone come to see me?”
“Who? The CEO?”
But he looked like he had no idea.
Hoping there might be a clue even if it was late, I came here myself.
“...Haa.”
The ad period must have ended; they were all taken down.
Nothing ever went smoothly.
I sighed and moved my feet.
After only a few steps, a familiar place came into view.
Two years and a few months ago—around the time we were filming Shining Star Season 1—I’d heard fans had put up an LED board here, and I’d hijacked the van from my manager to come to Express Bus Terminal Station.
Kim Sunghyun, who had been suffering terribly from the school-violence controversy, burst into tears the moment he saw it.
I, too, still remembered every single line written on each Post-it.
Letters from fans are always precious, but the Post-its I saw then stuck especially deep in my heart.
Later, even when we all went out to eat with the members and manager, Sunghyun kept sobbing, and I’d snickered and told him to cut it out, that he’d be getting a lot more from now on....
“It’s empty.”
Of course there was nothing here now.
I sat on a nearby bench and took in the surroundings, now filled with other ads.
Ding!
[What are you thinking about?]
I lifted my gaze and looked at the system window for a moment.
“...What’s your game?”
I decided it was time to ask. What I’d realized after dropping into Nugu Actor Tycoon and filming the drama Shining Star.
“Did you gather The Dawn members on purpose?”
That writer said it.
A combination that cannot fail.
Yeah, it was true.
The members’ abilities were evenly distributed and, looking back now, even excessively high.
This became more and more obvious as the Shining Star shoot went on.
And I thought—
Maybe the members were gathered for me.
A world that was too easy.
It’s not that there was no hardship, but the situations, the members, even the people around us all felt placed in the right spots as if for my sake.
For something that shoved me into “Nugu Idol Tycoon,” the days were so good I could almost mistake it for peace.
Which was the problem.
Life can’t be only good things.
[......What’s that supposed to mean?]
The system window only wavered with a firm blue light.
“If you don’t want to answer, fine.”
I couldn’t clearly know why it had sent me here, but judging by how ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ it claimed to have fixed the error, it meant the system had already achieved what it wanted. In this situation, I didn’t expect it to hand me information so obediently.
And if I got frustrated, I could dig it up myself like always.
Tsk. Clicking my tongue softly, I was about to say we should head back when—Ding—the alert rang again.
[The only answer I can give you is this.]
[That I always hope Seo Hoyun will be loved by many people.]
“Bullshit....”
I flicked my fingers, as if to tell it to cut the nonsense.
At the same time, the rectangular frame scattered like smoke and soon popped up a new window.
Would you like to return to Idol Tycoon?
Yes / No
I nodded.
My vision warped and began to spin.
There had been plenty of moments that pissed me off, but in the end I’d accumulated a lot of points and even got to blow off some stress and clear my head.
With the points I’d collected, I’d be able to recover Seo Hojin’s memories soon.
[Returning to Idol Tycoon.]
Not a bad end.
Except...
[Preparing synchronization.......]
Min Jiheon’s words clung to me stickily.
[Syncing points.......]
If you’re going to force someone into clothes that aren’t theirs, you have to give them a plausible reason. If you received something important, a price fitting that gift will inevitably follow....
[Syncing recognition.......]
In other words, someone must have sacrificed something—paid with their life—for mine....
[Syncing stats.......]
Following one thought to the next, my mind finally dragged out the one person I’d been refusing to face.
A sickeningly ominous suspicion.
[Syncing ■■■.......]
The idiot who sacrificed something....
[Synchronization complete.]
...might be my little brother.
[Returning to Idol Tycoon.]
‘Ha....’
Wrapped in blinding white light, I squeezed my eyes shut.
‘Damn it.’
...I really went and made a fucking miserable assumption.
.
.
.
Flick,
...flick.
“......!”
Drifting through a foggy consciousness, I slowly blinked, and suddenly sensation rushed in.
I came to and raised my body, looking around. I’d seen it a few times and grown familiar with it—clearly a hospital room.
Right beside the bed, Seo Hojin was dozing uncomfortably in a chair, head bobbing.
I groped for the bedside table and grabbed my phone.
Checking the date, I saw that a full ten days and a little more had passed.
[Congratulations!
You’ve returned safely from Nugu Actor Tycoon.
Your points have been preserved and can be used in Idol Tycoon.]
[Points: 370,000]
As I oriented myself to the present, the system window sparkled, flaunting its existence.
After confirming the points, I let my hand go slack and dropped the phone onto Seo Hojin’s body.
“...Uwaak!”
“Hey.”
“...H-huh?”
“Why are you like this here? Pathetic—what....”
But before I could finish, Seo Hojin’s eyes flew open and he sprang up.
“...Hah!”
“Hey, you should go ho—”
“Hyung?! Hyung, hyung, hyung!?”
“...Go rest a bit—”
“Are you really my hyung? You woke up?!”
Clatter, clatter, clatter.
Go ahead and smash the whole room, why don’t you.
Startled out of his wits, Seo Hojin banged into the table and got his feet caught on the chair, flailing.
“A-are you okay?! How do you feel? Does anything hurt?”
“If you shut up and be quiet, I think I’ll feel very healthy.”
“W-what?”
“School?”
His fuss stopped for a beat.
The rims of his eyes were reddish.
“S—school? School? You’re really saying that to me right now...!”
His voice shot up like he’d explode, then quickly deflated.
“...No. Forget it. You’re still hurting somewhere. Don’t get angry. Hold it in, hold it in....”
This brat.
“Hyung, tell me honestly. Are you secretly suffering from some illness I don’t know about?”
“I’m not.”
“Then why do you keep getting this sick? The doctor said they can’t even name it.”
“I said I’m not. Hey, go out and—”
Muttering about whether we should go abroad for a detailed exam, he was getting on my nerves, so I kicked him out to contact the members and restore some peace of mind—
“...Are you crying?”
Tears that had slid down his cheeks began to drip one by one.
For someone built like a mountain, he cried exactly like when he was little. With a temperament that fragile, how’s he supposed to work in society later, get married, and all that.
“I thought, really, really, something was going to happen to you....”
“......”
“Why is it always you....”
Feeling awkward for no reason, I stayed still while he bit down hard on his lower lip.
“Fuck, forget it....”
“...Oh, really?”
“I didn’t curse.”
I didn’t even ask if you cursed. I just said “oh, really.”
Feigning innocence, he raised his arm and rubbed his eyes.
“Quit being so pathetic and stop crying. People don’t die so easily.”
“...What a pretty way to talk.”
Pouting and grumbling, Seo Hojin let out a deep sigh.
“I’ll bring the doctor. And the members. Everyone was really worried.”
And, maybe embarrassed he’d cried, he hurried to the room’s door.
For some reason, my chest felt ticklish.
Pushing back my messy bangs, I picked up the phone again.
57 missed calls
382 chats.
I ignored the missed calls for now and opened the chats.
Scrolling down, I spotted Joo Woosung.
[Joo Woosung: You collapsed again?]
[Joo Woosung: You were born a weakling, you crazy bastard..]
[Joo Woosung: Call me when you wake up]
“...Hm.”
I tapped the screen lightly with a fingertip, then pressed the call button.
The ringing went on for a while. I was about to hang up, thinking he must be in the middle of a schedule—
[Hello?]
Joo Woosung’s voice leaked out of the speaker.
“...Uh....”
As I gathered my thoughts on how to start, a shout so loud it made my ears ring suddenly slammed into my eardrums.
[Seo Hoyun?!]
...Full of energy, huh.
I pulled the phone away for a moment, then brought it back, and a torrent of words poured out.
[What, what?! You came to your senses? You bastard, when did you wake up? You’ve been fine for a while and you’re only calling me now, aren’t you?]
“......”
[Are you okay? Still alive? I can’t visit right away because of my schedule... Ah, wait a sec!]
He really must have ducked out from work; I could hear someone calling him in the background.
[Hey, I’ll swing by later tonight with Cheongbeom noona and PD Heeyoung. You’re still at the hospital, right?]
“...Yeah, I’m at the hospital.”
[Got it. Don’t push yourself and wander around—just stay put.]
I didn’t answer and scratched the back of my head.
Then Woosung asked a little carefully,
[...Are you in a lot of pain? Why are you so quiet?]
“No.”
[Ah, fuck. Then what’s with your voice.]
Whether it was Seo Hojin or Joo Woosung—
Everyone was making a fuss.
“Woosung.”
[What?]
Even as I thought that, the concern pouring toward me no longer felt unfamiliar or uncomfortable.
I couldn’t deny it anymore.
“...You’re a real pushover.”
I liked it here.
