-8-
“A solo cover model, huh. That’s impressive.”
It certainly wasn’t intentional, but,
‘Somehow it seems like I’ve been running into that sunbae often since that day.’
It was true that his gaze kept going there since they first met. Usually when listening to ‘OORA’s songs, his assigned parts were small and his singing sections were short, so he had never thought of him as having distinctive vocals. There were plenty of others who could surpass Oh Hangeul in terms of skill itself.
However, the reason Bunhong couldn’t easily forget that day’s performance was because he had discovered something that didn’t exist in other people’s songs. The ‘sincerity’ he felt in Hangeul’s voice was exactly that.
On top of that, a scene from BLACK’s interview that Kim Bunhong had done in the past overlapped.
‘The reason I debuted? For me, it was street casting.’
It seemed to be some fashion magazine, and whether they had done prior research, the interviewer had quite a lot of information about the individual members.
‘I heard Bunhong-ssi was quite a model student. Wasn’t there strong opposition from home or anything?’
‘Well.’
The pre-regression Bunhong had skillfully deflected that question.
‘Everyone supported my dream.’
The interviewer, who had been pleasantly watching his lovely smile that he flashed like a typical idol, laughed along and said:
‘Right. You must have grown up loved.’
He seemed to really like those words. The phrase “you must have grown up loved.” Because it actually wasn’t true. That’s why he might have been more obsessed, Bunhong thought. Because he expected that if he became famous and received love from many people, he might really become a ‘plausible person’ just as those words suggested.
「Q What made you flutter recently? Like romance, for instance.
A (Bursting into laughter) (He seemed to like the interviewer’s joke, laughing until he even shed tears.) To be really honest, it’s not that I haven’t dated at all, but I’m single now. …And for now, being on stage is the most enjoyable. Especially when singing.
Q I know you’re always confident, but is there still something about yourself you’d like to fix?
A Hmm. That’s a difficult question. Something I’d like to fix… I don’t have any. (Laughter) Just kidding.
Q It doesn’t seem like you’re kidding.
A You caught me. I think I’ve developed forgetfulness recently. I’m not usually the type to lose things, but I recently lost my watch.
Q It must have been a precious watch. (This wasn’t actually a prepared question, but the interviewer had personal motives because his face looked so sad when answering earlier that it was cute.)
A It was. (Laughter)」
Since OORA was a popular singer, there were many uploaded fancams as well.
Taking time to watch numerous videos of Oh Hangeul performing on stage, his thoughts were all the same.
‘So this is what it means to enjoy the stage.’
Remembering his own appearance during his past idol life, Bunhong smiled bitterly.
When he got too tired on stage, he felt like he was carrying huge weights with every movement. Digesting endless schedules, he was so breathless and exhausted. He had no leisure to enjoy it and was just busy chasing the next movement with trembling legs.
「Q You said you never learned to dance originally, so it must have been hard when you joined the idol group. Same with the acting this time.
A Hmm. I don’t know about other things, but I think I’ll live long. I’ve gotten so much hate. (Laughter)
Rather than having a competitive mindset, I’m thinking of it as learning one thing at a time.
I believe in myself. I was born with so much. Being such a ‘me’, won’t the day come when I reach the peak in acting too?」
The interview that filled pages 1 and 2 of the printed magazine ended with the words—please look forward to Oh Hangeul even more in the future. The interviewer left a brief review at the bottom saying he was a friend who was really likable for being honest, even if a bit shameless.
So this is what kind of person he was. Even though they were from the same agency before regression, he didn’t know well since they had never particularly gotten involved.
Bunhong was about to put the magazine he was reading back on the shelf when,
“Will you be purchasing this?”
“Yes.”
He just paid for it as is. He didn’t buy the workbook he actually intended to buy—it was an impulsive expense he hadn’t expected.
‘Grandmother might scold me.’
Even though it was obvious that if she saw the credit card receipt, he’d immediately have to make excuses about what this magazine was for, he decided not to regret what he’d already done.
He put that magazine together in the drawer where he secretly hid his diary. Even though nothing had actually changed, for a moment he was excited by the feeling that the same room scene, no different from usual, seemed to have changed somehow.
Several days passed like that, and
[This is XX Station. Those getting off, please use the right side…]
Bunhong, who had jerked his head up at the announcement he heard while dozing, wiped the drool flowing from his mouth when others weren’t looking.
Organizing the earphone wires that had been loosely plugged into both ears and rotating his stiff neck several times, he corrected his uncomfortable posture and sat back down on the seat.
Before he knew it, the rattling subway had come above ground and was running on the tracks again. Outside the window, the sunset was already faintly setting, dripping orange light into the interior.
Squinting slightly at the intensely bright sunlight reflected through the window that was dazzling to the eyes, he raised his palm to cover his face.
“Here again.”
Having dozed off and missed his stop, reaching the terminal, Bunhong’s footsteps headed toward the place where that person who had been like a free wind sang, as if drawn by something invisible.
Perhaps because the weather had gotten colder, there were hardly any buskers, and only thick silence filled the night streets. In the middle of the path where fierce wind whipped mercilessly and leaves poured down,
only a standing microphone that some passionate singer or aspiring singer must have set up was left alone.
Bunhong’s wandering footsteps stopped there.
“Honey, it looks like he’s going to sing.”
“Should we watch before we go?”
Even as a couple who had been avoiding the cold in each other’s arms murmured while looking at him, Bunhong stared at the set-up microphone as if enchanted, then
stroked it.
Like the senior singer who had sung here, he thought that if given the chance, he too would like to try busking here someday.
-Incompetent loser
-A bundle of trouble. Aren’t you embarrassed?
However, as soon as he recalled the countless malicious comments that had tormented him throughout his idol life, the strength naturally drained from his clenched fists.
“I won’t make it anyway.”
Bunhong’s fingertips began to tremble finely as he gradually withdrew his hand that had been unconsciously reaching toward the microphone.
‘Sing?’
Even knowing it was impossible, it seemed like he could hear mockery from somewhere, so he silently glared at the empty air.
Those who had pointed fingers at the past Kim Bunhong who had been trampled, crushed, and lost even his presence appeared and whispered maliciously.
‘Someone like you?’
Even knowing it was a delusion stemming from his inferiority complex, his shoulders trembled at the tone that seemed truly dismissive.
That’s when it happened.
“Are you going to sing?”
Someone came running hurriedly from afar and stood in front of such Bunhong. The microphone’s owner and the couple who had just been waiting for a song simultaneously opened their eyes wide and stared at him.
Though they didn’t scold him for touching someone else’s property or treat him like a thief, Bunhong flustered around like a criminal, then hurriedly shook his head. And raising his hand to cover his face, he immediately left that spot. No, actually ‘ran away’ was the accurate expression.
His steps gradually began to quicken.
“Why…”
His hair hit his eyes. While running, Bunhong grabbed his own neck with both hands and shouted.
“Why the hell… won’t my voice come out!”
He had clearly thought he wanted to sing. Yet he couldn’t sing. No, he absolutely couldn’t do it.
It was a huge shock that he couldn’t produce even one verse while holding the microphone.
The premonition that he probably would never be able to stand on stage again hurt him, so Bunhong smiled sadly.
For him, who had regressed but was still once a singer, it was like a death sentence.
* * *
The next day, Bunhong who came to school was in quite a sharp state.
‘What am I really going to do for a living from now on?’
Come to think of it, it seemed like he had submitted several early admission applications. Since there wasn’t any particular major he wanted to go to, he seemed to have written down anything at plausible universities.
“Ha…”
From what he remembered, he seemed to have met the minimum requirements for several universities, but the problem was that they all required essay exams.
‘If I was going to regress, they should have done it before the college entrance exam.’
Having to come to school and maintain steady attendance even after taking the college entrance exam also felt like meaningless waste of time.
The worry about the future complicating his head was only brief, as Bunhong, who was clicking the back of his mechanical pencil while looking around the classroom, felt puzzled.
“Was the classroom this small?”
While looking around the classroom, he newly realized that the gap of three years was quite significant. Since Kim Bunhong’s growth plates hadn’t opened yet at this time, his height and build were exactly the same as before.
The height of the ceiling was unchanged from then to now, but strangely it felt different somewhere, making it difficult to adapt.
That’s when it happened.
“You want me to be a fitting model?”
He sharply responded to the hand that suddenly tapped his shoulder from behind, but he wasn’t conscious of his own attitude at all.
“Yeah. Since the college entrance exam is over, you have free time and it’s not bad, right?”
The other person, flustered by Bunhong’s reaction, apologized first.
“Just a temporary substitute would be fine. Were you doing something else? Sorry if I interrupted.”
“It wasn’t particularly anything like that…”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
