-6-
The pied piper wasn’t far away. In the enormous crowd rushing toward him like a magnet, he looked somewhat bored.
His profile, arms crossed while gazing somewhere endlessly, seemed to belong to a separate time and space—it was ridiculous, but that was the only expression that came to mind.
He talked with someone who looked like staff, then slowly turned his head.
Ah. The moment he confirmed the face, Bunhong unconsciously let out an exclamation.
‘That person is…’
It was still a face that had the talent to make even the wind flowing beside him seem like an intentional cinematic direction. His particularly jet-black pupils were like deep swamps that must never be stepped on.
Kim Bunhong already knew who that man was and his name.
“Hello. Have you been waiting long? I’m singer Oh Hangeul.”
Oh Hangeul.
Before he could even pronounce the word lingering in his mouth, a pleasant low voice suddenly reached his ear.
“This is Youth Street, famous for busking. Hangeul-ssi, since we’re here, why don’t you sing a song?”
“Sounds good. I need to promote my new album anyway.”
“That was natural, wasn’t it? Haha.”
His witty response to the playful MC’s words was impressive. Even Bunhong, who somehow ended up in the front row by force, was captivated enough to suppress his complicated feelings—it was witty banter that showed considerable experience.
That’s when it happened. Bunhong, who had raised his head at something tickling his cheek, unconsciously reached out his hand. At the cold sensation that gently settled on his palm, Bunhong unconsciously let out a small gasp.
It was this year’s first snow. Quite some time seemed to have passed, as the sky was gradually darkening.
“Oh. It’s snowing… Could this be a sign that the album will be a huge hit?”
Hangeul laughed lightly.
“I’m approaching my fourth year since debut now. A lot has happened during that time. Well, it hasn’t been a continuous series of only good things.”
I’m an icon of controversy, after all.
As he said that, voices of fans expressing sympathy could be heard from various places.
“But I think I’ve lived doing everything I wanted to do so far. And I plan to continue doing so.”
From Bunhong’s perspective, Hangeul, who had a refreshing smile on his lips, seemed to feel somewhat relieved.
So you all should live achieving everything you want too. Since it’s the first snow, I’ll make a wish for you instead.
Oh Hangeul, who actually put his hands together in prayer, pulled over a pre-set standing microphone and positioned it in front of himself.
“It’s an unreleased song, but it’s on this album. As the very last track.”
As he finished introducing it as the first song he participated in writing and composing, and began to sing, Bunhong somehow felt he couldn’t take his eyes off that scene. Not for a single moment.
“This is why I love music. It seems like even boring daily life gains meaning in every moment when there’s just a song.”
—This has been Oh Hangeul.
By the time the performance ended, all the audience members were humming that melody together.
* * *
‘OORA’, which appeared like a comet in the music industry, was a boy group that AT Entertainment had ambitiously launched. Though it was a 9-member group, the most noticeable member was undoubtedly ‘Oh Hangeul’.
As the only son of actress ‘Yoon Hira’ who dominated an era, he drew attention even before debut, and his appearance, which was the spitting image of his mother, was so special that it made all the moderately handsome guys look like squids.
His handsome face with bold features was delicately beautiful when seen up close. Especially, his beauty stood out even more when he dyed his hair in flashy colors instead of black, when he wore accessories that would be burdensome even for women, when he wore heavy makeup and outfits.
The manager, who hadn’t been able to leave work on time for several days due to non-stop schedules, let out a deep sigh while driving in the front seat.
“Ah. This is exhausting. The schedule really has no break. These days, you seem busier than OORA, Hangeul.”
Lamenting that he’d die from overwork without even getting married at this rate, he glanced back.
The figure looking down and scanning through scripts in his hands was like a carefully sculpted plaster statue. Even though he had been with him as a manager since debut, that face still wasn’t something he could get used to—it looked beautiful beyond belief, somehow unreal, like something inorganic.
Whenever he saw him like that, the manager sometimes thought it seemed like he couldn’t feel his breath. So every morning when he woke him up, he was scared first. Wondering if he might never wake up again—to the point of having such foolish imaginings.
Of course, the fact that he sometimes habitually placed his finger near Hangeul’s nose as he slept quietly, too exhausted from excessive schedules to even make breathing sounds, would be a secret he could never tell anyone.
“……”
Though he had accumulated relatively more experience, he was still young, yet he never threw any tantrums. Come to think of it, contrary to his free-spirited image like the wind, he was surprisingly responsible.
Usually he seemed careless and hopeless, but he had surprisingly solid aspects when it came to work-related matters.
Is this why people are most attractive when doing their main job? The manager felt proud that he was working alongside such an idol, and for a brief moment felt his fatigue dissipate.
Four years ago, seventeen-year-old Oh Hangeul when they first met was like a clean canvas. His unique way of expression was his own paint, and the back of his sneakers dragging on the practice room floor was a brush freely playing across it.
Especially his ability to make viewers anticipate his future moves wasn’t something you could learn just because you wanted to. It felt clear that such talent was something you were either born with or not.
The manager thought he was the child who best suited the description of being a born entertainer more than anyone else.
“I heard Hangeul briefly did a band before debut?”
“Yes. He was from a band club. He quit when the company staff told him to, though.”
Hangeul, who had been an idol trainee at AT Entertainment since childhood, had briefly served as the vocalist for an amateur rock band out of curiosity before debut.
Unlike his current voice refined with idol vocal techniques, his vocals back then were specialized in rock, slightly husky while scratching his throat and shouting.
Those who don’t know much about the ‘Rock’ genre think it’s all about screaming, but Hangeul mainly did rock ballads, which were on the melodious side.
When playing band music, he loved that emotion that was sublimated into ecstasy to the point where he could feel thrills down to the last drop of blood flowing in his body.
However, within an idol group, making a voice that stood out alone was taboo. This was especially true for OORA, which already had many members.
Still, the song he would sing today was music completely filled with his own voice, even though it was only included as the last track on the 3rd full album. It was the only song he could sing however he wanted to sing it.
The stylist, who unconsciously exclaimed while helping Hangeul adjust his outfit as he looked in the mirror one last time before getting out of the car, jokingly asked:
“What does it feel like to live with such handsome looks?”
Though others praised him like that, Hangeul’s eyes looking at his own face in the mirror were just cold. Cold as if appraising whether any flaws had appeared on a precious product.
‘What does it feel like?’
He had answered that question so many times everywhere that he had even given a response about it on a variety show.
From his very young childhood, there had been truckloads of people around him desperate to touch Hangeul. Every person who saw him praised his appearance until their mouths went dry.
The most terrible thing among them was how girls tried to kiss only him at every kindergarten birthday party. Thanks to unwanted popularity, he had to play the groom role every month.
From elementary school entrance, holidays became what he hated most. His locker was so full of gifts and letters that he couldn’t even open it, which was burdensome.
After he roughly explained it like this, no one asked him such questions anymore. It was an unexpected achievement. Countless malicious comments saying he was showing off appeared, but that level of opportunity cost was bearable.
‘Being able to play leading roles every time, being able to shoot numerous CFs—it’s all thanks to this face.’
Being able to speak so confidently in front of the public was partly due to his originally honest personality, but it was possible because he only saw his face as a product.
‘After all, everything meaningful in the world is just appearances.’
It was a lesson he had learned through experience after years of rolling around. He had jumped into this industry with the ambition to make music, but there was actually no opportunity to properly use his own voice.
Anyway, the public only looked at his exterior, never curious about what might be beneath. The entertainment industry was a place where the only and entire thing was to package yourself plausibly as if you were a gift.
Thinking this far, an annoying face came to mind and Hangeul frowned.
‘What is that bastard doing now?’
He had heard rumors circulating in the company that they were going to form an idol group centered around Jeong Ido this time. Strictly speaking, it was completely unrelated to him.
‘Making real music, they say. Everyone really doesn’t know Jeong Ido at all.’
But Hangeul disliked Ido. Even though it was a world overrun with fakes pretending to be real, there had to be limits.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
