Is repeating the same time a blessing? Or a curse?
And the end was always the same.
Someone’s death. Or his own death.
Death was something he could never quite get used to.
Feeling the tacky glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling and the cold chill of the floor with no heating, Siwoo slowly sat up. He didn’t turn on his phone, but he already had a feeling.
He’d returned to five years ago.
It wasn’t the first time, not the second, not the third—he was too tired to even count how many times it had been now.
Because his parents were busy with their dual-income jobs, Siwoo did all his after-school activities with his older sister. While others learned taekwondo or kendo, Siwoo learned ballet with his noona. That’s how he fell in love with the charm of ballerinas and ballerinos who flew across the stage like elegant swans.
Unlike his noona who gave up after attending only formally, Siwoo continued ballet even after becoming a middle schooler.
The young boy’s dream of ballet naturally changed to becoming an idol when puberty hit. Moving his body. Dancing—he was more confident in it than anyone. He went around to every place that held auditions. Eventually, he became a trainee at a small-to-medium entertainment agency.
And at eighteen years old.
He debuted in a five-member group.
What came after was obvious. They were pushed aside by the countless idol groups pouring out, and were soon swept away. One of the members made the crime pages for assault while drunk. On the fifth year. There was a noisy debate about whether to disband or not, and after much trouble, on the day they released a new song for the first time in eight months. On that rainy day, there was an accident on the way to their first stage.
That accident took two members.
When he came to his senses, he had returned to before his debut. A future he’d experienced once. Siwoo thought he could do well. The result was the same failed idol, and even when he walked around without covering his face, no one recognized him. Still, he believed he could save the members who died in the accident.
He prevented the drunken assault that made the crime pages, but couldn’t avoid the car accident. This time, he lost three members.
He returned again.
Having lived two lives, Siwoo knew which songs became popular, which groups became famous. He wanted to take the debut song of the group that swept to the top the moment they debuted.
He went around to composers, but was flatly rejected—no such song existed. Still, perhaps this time was a bit different as he debuted with seven members. The debut song changed too. But they flopped again. As if it was a set order every time, the groups that always became famous came into the world and rode high.
The day his world always stopped.
This time, there was no schedule, and he couldn’t even contact the members who had already scattered.
Looking at the empty refrigerator, Siwoo dragged his slippers and headed to the convenience store in front of his house. How should he live now? It was a group too embarrassing to even attach the word “disbandment” to. He even thought about who would die today. It started to rain.
Since he had no umbrella, he pulled up his hood to cover his head. A horn blared wildly, grating on his nerves. Siwoo touched his hood and looked up. He saw car headlights flashing brightly.
Ah… It’s me this time.
Perhaps from the beginning, it was something that could only end with his own death.
Siwoo didn’t dodge and closed his eyes. If he woke up again, he wouldn’t even look toward idols or the entertainment industry. Siwoo was too exhausted to do that work again.
He returned.
Could even his own death not end this hell?
Three years as a trainee. Five years of entertainment life starting at eighteen, repeated three times.
Laughably, Siwoo had rolled around in this industry for fifteen years. Sitting in his semi-basement monthly rental room, he roughly ran both hands through his hair. He had to go back to the agency and tell them. That he was quitting. He was eighteen years old. If he studied even now, he could have the university life he’d never experienced.
Five years later, he might become eighteen again.
Siwoo didn’t even wash his face and got dressed. He had to act when he thought of it.
He wanted to tell the agency and live a different life this time, not as a celebrity.
Study and go to university.
He chose a life where, like ordinary people, he’d go to university, serve in the military, and get a job.
* * *
“Hello. I’m Kim Siwoo. I’m twenty-three years old and a solo singer in my third year since debut. Um… This is my first reality program, so I don’t know what to say. This is the airport. There’s a destination address written on this paper. I’m supposed to take a plane alone and find this place. Isn’t it too much to give me just an overseas travel destination address, not even domestic, and tell me to find it? Anyway, I’ll start with ticketing first.”
In black skinny jeans and black sneakers. Wearing a white plain short-sleeved T-shirt with a khaki aviation jacket over it, Siwoo rambled toward the camera in front of him.
In the end, it turned out like this.
He tried living an ordinary university life, but he returned again.
He became a university student, went on MT trips, drank at bars in front of school with his classmates, did assignments, made lots of friends. He didn’t go anywhere near the entertainment industry, and quit dancing, which he loved so much. He lived ordinarily, but apparently that wasn’t the answer either.
Wondering what would be different this time, he debuted as a solo artist at twenty instead of eighteen. And he also went to university. The result of the solo debut was another flop, of course. In a world where even groups carefully selected from kids bursting with talent flopped, he was all alone, so he thought it was a natural result. Twenty-three years old. Just when he was thinking he should just go to the military, he got a schedule for the first time in ages.
The casting request from a channel famous for reality travel variety shows troubled him.
Everything was a secret, and they only told him that the cast member he’d be traveling with was a famous idol. There was no media exposure at all.
From start to finish, until the actual broadcast aired, he couldn’t expose anything about the filming without the producer’s permission.
They said he could only know the details after his appearance was confirmed.
When he said he didn’t want to agonize over it and wouldn’t do it, he couldn’t forget the look in the eyes of Taehoon, the agency CEO who was watching him. Taehoon didn’t know, but Siwoo could now read his emotions just by looking at his expression. At those desperate eyes, he inevitably nodded.
Come to think of it, he’d never even thought about changing agencies. It would have been better to debut at a major agency rather than a small-to-medium one. Why did he do that?
Even during the difficult trainee days, he never went hungry. Though strict and scary at times, he was someone who embraced him even as a failed idol. When Siwoo came to say he wanted to quit being a trainee, he didn’t even bring up things like penalty fees.
He was someone who said having dreams was a privilege of teenagers and wished him good results.
When Taehoon didn’t tell him to reconsider his refusal and just said okay, Siwoo ran his hand through his hair while looking at him.
“I’ll do it. I can think of it as getting paid to travel.”
He’d return again anyway. What couldn’t he do?
As soon as he arrived at the airport, the camera sticking right next to him felt burdensome. One writer and one camera director. Siwoo came alone without even a manager. It was a modest combination of three people.
The writer was gesturing for him to speak toward Siwoo, who smiled awkwardly with nothing to say.
“Ah. What else should I say? They said it’s an 8-night, 10-day schedule, so I really agonized over how to pack. They said the destination isn’t extremely cold or hot, so I just wore a short-sleeved shirt inside and put this on over it, does it look weird?”
As Siwoo walked dragging his large suitcase, his backpack slipped from one shoulder so he quickly pulled it up. Because of that, his aviation jacket, bigger than his frame, slid down exposing the opposite shoulder, but he didn’t care and headed toward the airline booth.
The camera continuously filming him felt awkward, so Siwoo slightly covered his mouth with his hand.
He felt like he should say something, but didn’t particularly have anything to say. All he could do was roll his large eyes while alternately looking at the camera and the writer.
He waited his turn to get his ticket and checked his luggage. The writer and camera director just watched what Siwoo was doing, having apparently already finished their procedures.
He tucked the airline ticket between his passport pages and held it in his mouth to pick up the backpack he’d briefly put down to take out his passport.
Since it wasn’t a situation where he could speak, he just slightly creased his eye corners toward the camera in a smile.
The airport was a familiar place for Siwoo. He’d never come for filming or work. Purely to satisfy his own desires, he traveled alone so he came and went like it was his own home.
Though all these processes were familiar, he didn’t want to show mistakes, so Siwoo checked more carefully. He watched his suitcase with the tag attached moving on the conveyor belt and turned around.
“I checked my suitcase, I have my backpack, and here are my passport and ticket, right? Let’s see… Now I need to find gate G17.”
He organized the passport and ticket he’d been holding in his mouth and put them in his backpack, then walked toward the boarding gate with slow steps. Living the same age multiple times was both fun and fascinating. If only the end wasn’t a tragedy.
And this life was so different from all of Siwoo’s lives until now. This time, he was doing two things he wanted to do simultaneously. He was an ordinary university student and, even if unpopular, also a solo singer.
Plus, he was financially comfortable. What he realized through multiple regressions was that the world doesn’t change much.
The same person became president, accidents that would happen happened, and people who became famous always became famous. So with a just-in-case mindset, he bought some lottery tickets he’d memorized, and the result was a win.
Right now, Siwoo lived not in a semi-basement monthly rental but in a nice officetel overlooking the Han River. Instead of a small car over ten years old that could break down at any time, he drove an SUV that could handle rough mountain roads.
And interestingly, today was the day his life would end.
