Several strangely peaceful days passed.
The medical staff was excessively polite to the point of embarrassment. Perhaps it was even more so because I knew where the source of these privileges I was enjoying came from.
To be precise, that was the case. This was just something Seo Nakil had arranged for me, merely his portion that I had inadvertently borrowed.
Anyway, I received exceptional treatment in a VIP hospital room I’d visited for the first time, and because there was still some time until discharge, I underwent a few more tests. As Seo Nakil had said about leaving it to time, there was nothing complicated or troublesome, so it was closer to a checkup than treatment.
If there was something peculiar, it was the yellowed envelope of documents currently in my hands.
This morning, a doctor I’d never seen before visited my hospital room. The man handed this to me with a good-natured smile.
‘I brought this at your guardian’s request. It’s nothing major, just do it little by little before you’re discharged. Think of it as doing a survey.’
‘…’
‘There’s a pencil inside too. If something comes to mind, you can write anything in the blanks. Since you have memory confusion, it’ll help if you think more diligently. Think of it as rehabilitation and take it slowly.’
As he said, what was inside was a multiple-choice questionnaire. A few pages had short-answer questions mixed in, but most were like this.
※ I have lost interest in or no longer feel pleasure in my usual activities.
○ None / ○ 2-6 days per month / ⊙ 7-12 days per month / ○ Almost daily
※ I feel I have done something wrong or failed. / Or, I feel I have disappointed those around me with my choices or existence.
○ None / ○ 2-6 days per month / ○ 7-12 days per month / ⊙ Almost daily
※ I have felt uncontrollably angry.
✔ Never / Sometimes felt it / Often felt it / Always felt it
※ I repeated the same mistakes.
Never / Sometimes felt it / Often felt it / Always felt it
My hand, about to check a box, hesitated and drew a small question mark. It’s embarrassing, but I’m not sure what I did so wrong. If you ask whether I feel wronged or aggrieved, I’m not sure about that either.
Why was it so difficult when it was just choosing one option among only four or five? The task of mulling over my feelings and moods to find an appropriate answer felt too bothersome.
What meaning could all this have? Even if I solved all the problems here and found out something, nothing would change anyway.
Perhaps I wanted to gradually become more indifferent and numb like this. Because not being easily shaken sounded like being able to hurt less.
I was now so sick of painful and sore things that I wanted to use some shortcut to let them pass as if they were nothing.
Having lost all motivation and just poking the back of my hand with the sharp pencil tip, someone happened to visit my hospital room.
The man in neat business attire was Seo Nakil’s secretary, who had been taking care of me while his employer was away for schedules, meetings, and such.
“Good afternoon. A good lunch to you.”
“…Hello.”
He set up a lunch box for me as I leaned against the bed headboard. Then, instead of leaving the hospital room, he busily went about his work, moving around various places.
Refilling the humidifier with water, thinning out withered flowers from the vase, drawing back the curtains by the window for better sunlight, and so on. He was diligent without showing any signs of dislike or annoyance.
While I carefully ate, secretly observing him, he asked various questions as he tidied the hospital room.
“You seem to be eating better than yesterday’s dinner box. Do you prefer seafood over meat?”
“They seem similar.”
“And there’s nothing in particular you want to eat? You may or may not know, but these lunch boxes are procured from Ritten Line. The main store is famous for clean Japanese cuisine, so if you’d like, we could get more dishes from there.”
“It’s fine. What you’re providing now is more than enough. Thank you.”
“You don’t want to listen to music? Come to think of it, you don’t turn on the TV either. You could also browse OTT sites and such.”
“Just, well…”
After exchanging a few more words, the secretary said to me with a bright smile.
“Ijae-ssi doesn’t talk much. Ah, are you very shy around strangers?”
It was something I’d heard in a long time. I wasn’t particularly taciturn. Rather, I was always the one who made an effort to speak up. I lived among members who often quarreled over trivial matters and became awkward, and was used to chattering to match the moods of the prideful Kwon Seonho.
When did I stop talking, when did I come to feel that silence was more comfortable? Perhaps it was after I experienced the reality that no one listened to me.
“I’m sorry.”
“Haha, no. Don’t say that—I didn’t bring it up because it’s strange or I’m disappointed. Just, well. Isn’t it out of unnecessary concern?”
The secretary shrugged and said.
“He asked me firmly to take care of you without any shortcomings, to pay a lot of attention in various ways. But Ijae-ssi doesn’t seem to want anything in particular, and doesn’t seem happy either… Should I say it’s puzzling?”
“Is that so…”
Hearing him say that made me feel like I should at least create something to request.
As I was hesitating for a moment, something came to mind. I quickly called him.
“Secretary-nim. Could I… inform someone of my discharge schedule?”
It was because I was concerned about Ahn Haesol, who said he wanted to stop by once more before discharge. Of course, even if I told him when I’d be discharged, it was uncertain whether he could come right away. Arcus was still in their promotion period, and thanks to their soaring popularity, the probability that he wouldn’t have time to come here was higher.
“A Starium member? Seo Nakil-ssi left instructions to arrange things to avoid stressful situations as much as possible, so that would be a bit difficult…”
“No. Ahn Haesol hyung, you know, before… when I went on the survival audition before debut. I seem to vaguely remember that time.”
“Ah! You mean ‘For Starium’? I know that too, Ahn Haesol-ssi. He’s famous, right? As Arcus’s leader. Actually, my younger sister is a Haesol-ssi fan.”
The secretary continued in a cheerful voice. He said he’d heard praise about him being sincere, sensitive, and capable until his ears had calluses. Whenever there was something to take someone somewhere and put them in the car, she’d insist on listening to Arcus songs, so he’d play them pretending to lose, and after listening, they grew familiar, so now he even looked them up to listen alone.
“If it’s Ahn Haesol-ssi, I’m reassured. I think we can invite him. Instead, I’d like to recommend meeting inside the hospital room… for safety reasons. You’ll understand, right?”
“I’ll do that.”
“Come to think of it, Ahn Haesol-ssi and Han Ijae-ssi were close during the survival show. I could see him taking good care of you.”
There was clear fondness in the secretary’s voice as he said that.
It wasn’t just because Arcus was doing well. People liked Ahn Haesol even from his trainee days. Kind, sincere, and even talented—saying he’d truly be a model for idols. I thought so too, and I remembered liking Ahn Haesol quite a bit.
But the ending of ‘For Starium’ split our fates apart. With debut status divided by a hair’s breadth, fate held and pulled my hand up while throwing him away, appearing in the world like that.
So people easily compared us who had been stuck together, and even we couldn’t help but see each other that way.
It’s still vivid before my eyes. Ahn Haesol’s face distorting when the results he’d worked so hard for and eagerly awaited were disappointing. That sight of him crying miserably at the fact that he couldn’t debut with Starium.
Even in the midst of that, even the sight of him turning his back, saying he didn’t want to show me that appearance when I had barely made it into the debut group.
‘I’m sorry.’
That whisper in a gasping voice was stuck in my chest like it hadn’t come out even now, years later.
‘…I’m sorry, Ijae. I’m sorry.’
I should have been the one apologizing. Because if I hadn’t existed, you would have achieved your dream. Because I ruined your future.
If Arcus hadn’t done well. So if you couldn’t find your day in the sun and struggled after that.
Would you have resented me too?
“…”
My appetite completely dropped. In the end, I left more than half of the lunch box, and the secretary waited for me a bit longer with a look encouraging me to eat more, then cleared away what remained.
