“Oh, hyung?”
Min Jiheon looked at me with startled eyes.
After hearing what the acting coach had said, I brushed it off, pretending I didn’t know the person, stormed out of the practice room, and immediately called Jiheon to ask where he was.
And when I came back to my senses, I was already unlocking the door to his house. The little white dog that always greeted me first was nowhere to be seen, and in the middle of the messy living room, scattered with scripts, sat Min Jiheon.
“The doorbell exists for situations like this. Punching in the passcode and barging in—this is basically your place, huh, your placeee.”
I didn’t reply and strode forward. Jiheon, looking haggard, tilted his head slightly.
“Huh...?”
“......”
“...Why do you look like you’re pissed?”
“Min Jiheon.”
“Uhhhm, lately I haven’t done anything—ack!”
I grabbed him by the collar with both hands and yanked him up. The tall bastard dangled like a paper doll.
“Are you out of your mind?”
“W-why are you doing this?!”
This wasn’t someone who would listen if I spoke nicely.
There’s a saying—law is far, fists are near.
“No, you’re the crazy one! Barging into someone’s house and throwing a tantrum! You’ve been so well-behaved lately, why are you suddenly acting like a gangster ag—”
“Jeong Cheongyeon.”
“...—yeah, that explains it...”
He had been squawking while grabbing at my fists, but he immediately deflated.
“I need an explanation.”
“O-okay, but let go first.”
I gave him a hard look, then let go of his collar as if tossing him aside. He fell on the floor, grabbed his clothes, dusted them off, and glanced at me.
“...S-so... who told you...”
“......”
“No, no, that’s not important right now. I’m sorry.”
Mumbling, Jiheon avoided my gaze. Clearly, he felt guilty.
After coming back from Nobody Actor Tycoon, I once asked him over the phone if he knew anything about Jeong Cheongyeon’s whereabouts.
His answer back then was this:
“Well, I’m not sure... honestly, I was a mess too... after dropping you off at the hospital, I went back to check, but she was gone. Felt like I’d seen a ghost or something...”
A bastard who lies like it’s breathing.
“You said you didn’t meet her. You said you looked but she wasn’t there.”
“Haha, I-I forgot to tell you... w-wait, wait! Fine! I’ll be honest!”
When I started searching around as if I were going to dig something up, Jiheon raised his hands to stop me, his expression twisted with reluctance.
“The truth is... after dropping you at the hospital, I did talk to her briefly. She looked really shaken, so I just gave her my number, told her we’d talk later, and sent her off. I didn’t know anything back then, so what else could I do?”
“And?”
“Well... later, while you were out cold, I met her once more...”
“And?”
“...She couldn’t remember a thing.”
Jiheon sighed deeply and shoved back the long bangs that had fallen forward.
“She looked bewildered, like she couldn’t understand why she was even there that day. And about you—she acted like she didn’t know you at all.”
I hadn’t ruled out the possibility that Cheongyeon wouldn’t remember me.
The system had deliberately set us up to meet back then, then shoved me into Nobody Actor Tycoon.
“Why didn’t you say anything until now?”
“What’s the point of bringing up someone when I don’t know anything either?”
“......”
“And honestly, I didn’t want to get tangled up more. When I saw her again, she seemed unstable, really aggressive. Even yelled at me, snapped at me. And you weren’t in a good place then either. I figured it was better if you two didn’t meet.”
I listened to his pitiful excuses for a moment, then held out my hand.
“...Huh?”
I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Your phone.”
“...Why?”
“Give me Jeong Cheongyeon’s number. You said you got it.”
Reluctantly, Jiheon grabbed his phone from the table in front of the sofa, unlocked it, and handed it over. The wallpaper was a picture of him with his sister Kang Chaeyeon and that fluffball Malang.
Scrolling through the endless contacts, I found the name: Jeong Cheongyeon.
“...Where did you meet her?”
“...At the café where she works.”
“And where’s that?”
“Near the company...”
The location he gave wasn’t far from WH Entertainment’s new building. I memorized the number, tossed the phone back on the sofa, and ignored Jiheon’s look that said he had more to say. Heading for the door, I heard his loud question [N O V E L I G H T] behind me.
“You’re going to meet her?”
And who the hell was he to keep interfering with me?
Annoyed, I turned back and glared at him.
“Hey.”
His shoulders flinched visibly.
“You’ve been grating on me for a while now. Don’t cross the line.”
Whether she was strange, or her memory was gone—whatever it was.
“I’ll decide that myself.”
I’d just check directly.
***
“Ughhh.”
“Ughhhh...”
The members of The Dawn dropped one by one.
There were still at least five more year-end stages to prepare for, and with each performance lasting about fifteen minutes, differentiating every stage wore them out quickly.
“Is this even humanly possible?”
“Well, we’re doing it somehow...”
“This reminds me of the hell of Second Chanceeee...”
They were rolling around like it was trainee days again, all completely wrecked.
Kang Ichae, after being tormented by Sung Jiwon—the tyrant of the practice room—looked pale as he whined.
“Ugh, I need sugar...”
“Got anything sweet?”
“Haven’t been able to go outside because of year-end prep. Every time I try, Jiwon hyung drags me back to practice.”
“Where did our human rights gooo.”
Jiwon, true to his practice-machine nature, smiled as if nothing was difficult.
“Haha, well, shall we take a break here?”
“Yes!”
“Please!! Look, Hoyun hyung’s practically dead over there!”
“Quiet. My skull’s rattling from exhaustion...”
While the others made a racket, I was lying in a corner with my head buried in my sports bag. Dajun crept up and poked my arm with his finger.
“Hyung, hyung, are you really not going to show me the script?”
“They said if I spoil it, I’ll get thrown in jail.”
“What kind of nonsense is that!”
Dajun puffed out his cheeks in protest.
Truthfully, I was hiding it because I knew if he found out the scene included a funeral, he’d throw a fit. And once the maknae knew, there was no way it would stay secret from the rest.
Luckily, WH Entertainment seemed to have treated it as my personal activity, so they hadn’t shared the details with the kids.
I forced my trembling legs to move. Now was the best timing.
“I’m heading out for some air.”
“Can you even stand?”
I nudged Sunghyun’s thigh with my foot. Jiwon half-sat up, looking like he wanted to follow.
“Hoyun, want me to come with?”
“No. Rest, you’re tired.”
I had thrown enough bait that leaving for thirty minutes wouldn’t be suspicious. As I left, I heard Dajun whining through the door crack.
Complaining that I was being treated special, wanting to stick something cold up his nostrils too.
Jiwon’s laughing voice told him if he wanted to leave so badly, then get out already. With that, I pulled my cap low and climbed the stairs.
‘That café...’
Good thing it was close.
The system windows that had been pestering me lately had gone quiet ever since I’d seen Jiheon.
‘Well, there shouldn’t be a problem.’
If meeting Jeong Cheongyeon had been dangerous, then like before—when it warned me not to meet Jiheon—the system would have popped up.
The place Jiheon told me about was a cozy independent café not far from the company. It was fairly quiet, probably because it was an odd afternoon hour.
Wearing a dull training suit and a mask, I didn’t attract any stares. I slowly scanned the shop, thinking about what to say first.
‘Even if she’s lost her memory, maybe she’ll recall something when she sees me.’
I planned to coax her and dig into what she had gone through.
As I gathered my thoughts and turned toward the menu board, Jeong Cheongyeon appeared from a side door, carrying small boxes.
“Oh, customer!”
Spotting me, she set the boxes down at a random table and hurried over.
“Sorry for the wait! May I take your order?”
Now that she was standing right in front of me, everything I’d been rehearsing evaporated.
Her hair, usually tied high, was now cut short around her neck. The heavy makeup she always wore was gone, leaving a clean bare face.
I stared at that unfamiliar sight, then quietly pointed at the menu.
“...One yuzu tea, please.”
“Sure~, would you like it hot? To go?”
“Yes.”
Cheongyeon worked the register with practiced ease.
After a moment of hesitation, I reached up to my mask.
Just then, she asked again.
“Would you like to join our stamp card? Collect ten and you get a free Americano.”
“No...”
“Sorry?”
I stopped. She looked puzzled.
With a faint sigh, I pulled my mask down, removed my cap, and ran a hand through my hair.
“Uh... oh! Whoa!!”
So she did recognize me.
‘I knew it.’
She didn’t forget shit.
“Hey, Jeong—”
“Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap! Seo Hoyun!!”
Grinding my teeth, I opened my mouth to calm her down, but she slapped her hands over her mouth and started hopping in excitement.
“Daebak! My friend’s a huge fan of yours! I can’t believe I’m seeing you here, Seo Hoyun!! I swear, I thought I’d seen you somewhere the second I looked at you! This is insane, what do I do!!”
“......”
“Oh my god, sorry, was I too loud?!”
She glanced around nervously, then stamped a card several times and lowered her voice.
“I heard WH’s building was nearby, but I never expected to see a famous idol like you! Please come again to collect stamps. This is on the house~! Since it’s an independent café, we use really good beans. Honestly, I’d love to brag that you’re a regular, but~. Ah! I’ll bring out your yuzu tea right away. One moment~.”
The sharp, wounded trainee I once knew was nowhere to be found in her polite, cheerful manner.
“...Yeah.”
I didn’t see the point in dragging the conversation further, so I headed for the door. But my steps felt heavy.
“...This place has a great vibe. Do you run it yourself?”
I asked as she poured homemade yuzu syrup into a paper cup.
“Oh no, I don’t have that kind of money. It’s one of my aunt’s cafés. Still, I’ve managed it full-time for almost five years, so I guess I’m the one in charge.”
Five years. Even without counting the time I’d been an idol, that was a long stretch.
On the wall hung a clock, and right beside it was Min Jiheon’s autograph.
“Thank you, please come again~!”
Taking the warm yuzu tea she handed over, I stepped outside.
I thought she wanted my autograph too, but I didn’t have the energy to joke around like that.
I put my cap back on and wandered down the street before ducking into a deserted alleyway, taking a deep breath.
No matter how good Jiheon was at acting, he couldn’t make someone else an acting genius overnight. Which meant every word he’d said was the truth.
Jeong Cheongyeon really had lost her memory.
