Sung Jiwon stared at me with steady eyes. For a brief moment, his current face overlapped with the younger version of him from three years ago. Back then, I was in the middle of planning a new show. He seemed like the kind of person—with a story compelling enough—that I could turn into a hit if I just drummed up enough attention. So I told him not to give up on being an idol. But the program got delayed and scrapped a couple of times, and by the time it finally got the green light and an air date, I couldn’t find Sung Jiwon anywhere. I didn’t know if it was because he’d debuted as a failed idol under Daepaseong, or if my memory was just faulty— ‘No, that’s not the point right now.’ Either way, I had just been forcibly summoned into the stage Sung Jiwon had set up. Now I understood why he’d acted so out of character and dragged me all the way here. He was trying to test my reaction in the exact same place as back then. He was definitely looking for me. But realistically speaking, I didn’t look 21 back then. On top of that, I thought I’d been subtle about giving off broadcasting industry vibes, so why the hell was Sung Jiwon so certain? Even if I said yes, that I was that person, there were so many contradictions. Would he really believe it? My brain started spinning wildly, desperate to get out [N O V E L I G H T] of this situation. The system window that had flashed an ERROR earlier had disappeared after notifying me that Sung Jiwon was suspicious of me, and hadn’t shown up again. Other than today, there had only been two other times I saw an ERROR: When Min Jiheon had tried to separate me from the system with his ability, and when I had leaked the penalty myself during Shining Star Season 2. ‘I can’t let this happen again.’ That warning from the system a while back still itched in my mind like a splinter. That the system was unstable. That things would only get more unpredictable. And that whatever happened wouldn’t be good for the player. After quickly sorting through my thoughts, I furrowed my brows like I was troubled and rubbed at them with my index finger. “Is that guy as handsome as me?” Time to pull out my specialty. “That’s weird. I mean, I’m decent-looking, but I don’t exactly have a common face.” Sung Jiwon lowered his eyes slightly as he spoke. “You really don’t have a common face. That’s exactly why it’s so strange. You look so similar to him. The way you talk, the vibe you give off—even the position of your scar, your features... It’s enough to make me wonder if I’ve lost my mind.” ‘Of course you’d think that. Because it is me.’ “Guess I must really look a lot like him, huh?” No matter how I spun it, the timeline wouldn’t match up. But that was the perfect excuse—because I’d leapt across ten years. “...Someone who looks like him?” Sung Jiwon tilted his head slightly and murmured. His tone was a mix of lingering doubt and faint disappointment. Still, it looked like he understood he was grasping at straws. I thought he’d finally let it go—when he suddenly played another card. “T-There’s something else. Hoyun, you asked me three questions that Christmas, remember? I kept wondering how you knew those answers so well...” “Was he someone in broadcasting?” “Did he used to smoke?” “Was he a rude asshole?” I’d only asked to trigger the main scenario route. “But what if... what if you are that person—” I cut him off before he could finish, like I was swatting away a clumsy excuse. “Wow, I’m kinda hurt.” Guess two of my usual tactics weren’t enough. Time to add a third. The classic: ‘So that’s all I am to you?’ card. “I get that the guy helped you, but what about me?” I dropped my gaze slightly and pouted. “I really think I’ve been good to you since joining The Dawn.” Since it had been a while since I pulled this move, I glanced up to check if it was working. Sung Jiwon looked flustered. “I know you’re thankful to him, and I’m not gonna stop you from looking for him, but could you at least listen to me too? I’m not nothing to you, am I?” He nodded slowly, quietly taking in everything I said. His expression didn’t give away what he was thinking. Since it seemed like the situation had cooled down, I grabbed the cake I’d bought earlier and stood up. He followed suit, awkwardly getting to his feet. Even as I paid for the food with my card and walked out into the lobby, he didn’t say a word. ‘I kinda feel bad now.’ Lying doesn’t usually faze me, but this time it left a weird taste in my mouth. I hadn’t even been particularly nice to him, so why was he so desperate to find me? Honestly, a part of me wanted to tell him that he was right. But not with things this unstable—not when I didn’t even know what was coming next. The last thing I needed was another variable like Sung Jiwon discovering the truth. “Let’s head back. The others are waiting.” Answering a beat late like he was out of it, Sung Jiwon forced a gentle smile as if trying to fold up his overflowing emotions and tuck them away. “The others’ll cake too. Let’s go eat it together.” We chatted quietly like nothing had happened as we walked through the lobby. “What are we doing when we get back?” “Guess I’ll watch your birthday live or something.” We hopped into the taxi I’d called through the app and headed back to the dorm. The sky, already overcast with clouds, started to drizzle. “Oh, yeah, it really is.” I was debating whether to ask the driver to drop us off right in front of the dorm instead of the main road when Sung Jiwon rustled around beside me and pulled out a small three-fold umbrella from his bag. He looked a little down, so I joked. “Wow, you even packed an umbrella?” “You really are as put-together as you look...” The moment the words left my mouth, I bit the inside of my cheek. “Exactly as thorough as you look.” That was the exact thing I had said to Sung Jiwon on that rainy day. I turned my head and fixed my gaze on the rain-speckled window. Cold sweat ran down my back from the overwhelming feeling of shit, I’m so screwed. Sung Jiwon stayed quiet too, lost in thought. I couldn’t remember the last time silence had felt so heavy. As soon as we arrived at the dorm, I got out of the taxi quickly and started walking through the rain without hesitation. Run. If he catches up, play dumb like you know nothing. I heard the splashes of puddles behind me. Sung Jiwon grabbed my shoulder and turned me around. Slightly out of breath, he tilted the open umbrella over me. My heart pounded, nerves on edge. What was he going to say? How should I respond? “You might not realize it, but honestly, I...” “I get jealous easily. I’m greedy. And kind of a shitty person.” That was... not what I expected. “But weirdly enough, from the moment I first met you, I just wanted to be good to you.” The “first time” he meant was when I’d stormed into Daepaseong demanding Cheongbeom’s song. The day he was the only one who welcomed me. “I guess it’s because you reminded me so much of him.” The rain started pouring harder, soaking his shoulders. “Don’t be upset. You’re more important to me now. I just... really wanted to thank him.” His lowered lashes lifted slowly. His clear eyes met mine. “I don’t know why, but that ‘see you again’ from back then—it meant a lot to me. I held onto it, over and over—” His voice flowed so smoothly, like it was something he’d practiced countless times. I had to press my lips shut tightly to keep my expression from cracking. “—and that’s why I’m here now.” Even though he was just as drenched as I was, he brushed the raindrops off my shoulder gently and met my gaze. Then he smiled—nervous, but relieved. “I wanted to say I’d repay the favor somehow, but, ahaha...” I sighed internally as I looked at him. I nudged the umbrella handle toward him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but let’s make one thing clear.” One particular comment had really rubbed me the wrong way. “You’d still be here even if it wasn’t for that guy.” “Go look in the mirror. If you’re not idol material, then who the hell is?” Even without my bias, from a purely objective standpoint, he was the real deal. Charisma, talent, visuals. One of those is enough to make it in this industry if you work hard. But Sung Jiwon had all three—and he worked harder than anyone. The only reason Daepaseong’s practice room always felt bright was because of him. “You were just born to do this, you little shit.” Sung Jiwon blinked in surprise at my words, then burst into laughter. “Ah...” ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ novｅlfire.net “Ah, Seo Hoyun. Seriously.” His laughter eventually turned into quiet sniffles. “Yeah. I really was born to be an idol.” He’d probably keep doubting. Or maybe, judging by our earlier conversation, he already knew the truth. But as long as I was here, the truth would never change: The ‘Seo Hoyun’ from back then is not the same ‘Seo Hoyun’ standing here now. Sometimes, you have to pretend not to know, even when you do. Just like I was pretending not to hear the quiet sobs tangled in the sound of rain. “I left the cake in the taxi.” “Knew it. You bolted out of there like a bat outta hell.” When I played along, Sung Jiwon wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and managed a faint smile. “It’s fine. I’ll buy you something even better next birthday.” Even if the scenario kept me from recognizing him before—here we were, meeting again anyway. No matter what, I’d kept my word. I called out his name, red-eyed and flushed from the cold. Kind, gentle Sung Jiwon—always warm, even to a selfish bastard like me. You don’t have to keep any promises, not with me.