“Just because you lose your memory doesn’t mean you change as a person.”
Kang Subin’s anxious voice rang in my ears.
“I just thought your memories had gotten a bit blurry and you were confused. They said you’d recover with time, so I figured I just needed to wait. But…”
His hand reached out to me. He gripped my hand tightly, let go, gripped it again, then fidgeted with it carefully.
“Sometimes, I think you look at me with suspicion. Like you don’t think we could possibly be close, or like you find it strange that I’m being kind to you.”
It was an accurate observation. Hit right in the mark by the feelings I’d unconsciously conveyed, I fell silent and averted my gaze.
“I try to get closer but it doesn’t work well. It feels like the more I approach, the more you pull away. You’re clearly right beside me, but your heart keeps growing more distant. Do you know what it feels like? Like we’ll keep drifting apart, drifting apart, until you completely disappear somewhere I can’t see you anymore.”
It was strange. It seemed he’d seen right through my attempts to pull away.
“You’re clearly trying so hard…”
“…”
“So why does it feel like you keep giving up on something?”
At that question, I felt a lump rise in my throat and just stared quietly at Kang Subin.
“I also…”
I didn’t want to give up on you from the start either.
I never gave up on anything because I wanted to. It wasn’t that I wanted to let go—things disappeared. It wasn’t that I tried to put things down—I had no choice but to put them down.
For me, giving up only began when the things I’d been holding in my hands were suddenly taken from me, one by one.
“Alright. That’s enough personal talk.”
Perhaps sensing the atmosphere taking an unusual turn, Min Seungwoo skillfully interjected. When he stood in front of Kang Subin as if blocking him, my view was obscured, and only then did I feel like I could breathe a little.
“You all know we have an evening schedule, right? If we want to get the formation for Part 1 down before then, we need to focus again.”
“…”
“Ijae, want to go to the bathroom for a bit?”
“…Yes. Give me 10 minutes.”
Only after rinsing my face repeatedly with cold water did my churning stomach settle down.
Kang Subin was probably just reacting sensitively to others’ emotions. Until our last promotional period, I’d been working hard, going around to regional events and everything, so he was instinctively anxious seeing me suddenly act like I had no regrets.
It would be fine if I explained it well. If I said the situation was complicated in various ways and I wanted to rest a bit, he might understand. If I told him I’d given up individual activities but would be joining the filming of <The Marsh Where the Moon Sets> afterward, he might understand that too. After all, to focus on acting, I’d have no choice but to give up other schedules.
“I just need to get through this.”
The face in the mirror muttering those words was pale, drained of color. It looked a bit tired, perhaps tormented by shadows of the past.
I was practicing smiling when my phone, which I’d set down on the sink, buzzed with a vibration.
[Seo Nakil Bae-u-nim: Is your condition a bit better?]
[Seo Nakil Bae-u-nim: What’s your schedule today? I hope you’re not overdoing it and getting some rest.]
[Seo Nakil Bae-u-nim: If your throat’s okay, let me hear your voice for a bit.]
Why did those odd messages feel so welcome? Without even taking time to text back, I quickly called him.
Seo Nakil answered as if he’d been waiting.
— Fortunately. You don’t seem too busy.
“I do need to go back in soon though.”
— Thanks for making time. I was hoping you wouldn’t practice too late.
“It’ll work out that way. We have a company dinner this evening.”
— Do you like company dinners?
A company dinner is just a company dinner. There’s a reason for it, so everyone gathers and has a meal together.
Normally I would have thought only that much about it, but today was a bit different. The fact that I felt somewhat unwelcoming about it—maybe it was because I wanted to be a bit petulant today.
Seo Nakil read the sulkiness in my hesitant silence and laughed softly. That small reaction somehow softened my heart.
“…Do you like company dinners, Bae-u-nim?”
— They’re bothersome. It feels like extended filming. I’m human too, so after the okay sign drops, I want to go home.
His words had a humanity to them that made me laugh for no reason. I also felt like I might sneeze, as if a very soft feather were tickling the tip of my nose.
— Don’t overdo it with drinking. You might black out.
“Even if I black out, I don’t make mistakes.”
— That may be true for Han Ijae. But mistakes are like traffic accidents. Even if you do well, the other person might crash into you, and the problem is you won’t remember that either.
“Mm.”
Somehow the dream I’d had before came to mind. The face of Seo Nakil in that dream, kissing me while whispering that he wished I’d at least get angry, knowing I wouldn’t remember anything by tomorrow morning, suddenly flickered before my eyes.
His words were right. Even if what happened in that dream really occurred, I wouldn’t remember it.
“I won’t overdo it.”
— How will I confirm whether you kept your promise or not?
“Um… Should I call you when I get back to the dorm?”
— Good idea.
His low voice, rich with resonance, continued.
— If you contact me later, I’ll tell you a secret.
His voice was both secretive and playful at the same time. I answered with a small laugh.
“You’re going to tell me something so amazing I’ll be at a loss if I don’t remember it?”
— Is there any question?
“I’m looking forward to it.”
— Looking forward…
Seo Nakil’s voice held joy that shimmered like sunlight on water.
— Yes. Look forward to it.
The particularly unwelcome premonition became even clearer when I arrived at the company dinner location.
‘…Why?’
Beyond unpleasant, I felt almost anxious, making me keep looking around. The restaurant, which had newly opened less than a month ago, was clean without a speck of dust, which instead created an odd sense of dissonance.
When I entered the spacious private room, I saw not only the members but also the manager and CEO already seated. I quickly went to sit next to Kang Subin.
“Alright. Our Starium guys have been working hard lately, right? So I arranged this gathering to help us recharge.”
Drinks were poured to the brim in each glass. A diluted liquid of soju and beer mixed in similar proportions was placed in front of me as well.
“Let’s just hang in there until the summer concert and festival. After that, you’ll have time to catch your breath, so think of it as just one season of hard work. Okay?”
“Yes, CEO.”
“Then let’s toast. To Starium’s summer.”
“To summer!”
I raised my glass in the air while thinking.
‘There was a festival after the concert too.’
It was the last activity before preparing for the next album. I would have participated before, but now that I was planning to withdraw at an appropriate time, I wanted to skip it if possible.
I couldn’t break the atmosphere of encouragement, so I thought I’d need to bring it up at an opportune moment later. It was to give the members time to practice the changed formations.
But my plans crumbled with the manager’s tactless recognition.
“Then Ijae won’t be there at that time?”
The members’ gazes flew to me. I’d just brought my drink to my lips and nearly choked, hastily lowering my head.
“What?”
“You said you’d move out of the dorm after the concert. That you’d only come join us for mandatory schedules, so I was wondering if the festival was included.”
“Th-that. It is a temporary move-out though.”
It was something the company had discussed in advance, but I hadn’t told the members yet. Only the leader, Min Seungwoo, had vaguely caught on.
“I’ll have to see how it goes. The agency situation got a bit complicated.”
I felt Kang Subin next to me looking at me. Not having the courage to face his disappointed gaze, I just pretended not to notice as much as possible.
“Of course, we can’t promote forever. Why are you like this when we all knew this from the start? Ijae’s memory is unstable too.”
Min Seungwoo spoke soothingly, taking care of Kang Subin.
“Let’s talk more at the dorm later. Ijae, you too. Even when you move out, you need to explain it properly to your members.”
“…Yes, hyung.”
Min Seungwoo knew my move-out wasn’t temporary. He’d noticed I was planning to naturally go through withdrawal procedures after the concert, and was trying to help me.
I went through the motions of eating, trying to match the atmosphere. From the greasy food piled up around my solar plexus that wouldn’t digest, a stinging pain was transmitted.
Unable to overcome the indigestion, I watched for an opportunity and stood up first. I figured I’d maintained appearances enough, so I planned to leave early, even if I had to use my health as an excuse.
It was just as I’d skillfully slipped out of the restaurant like a thieving cat.
“…Oh no.”
I bumped into someone just turning the corner and my staggering body was caught. The sharp scent of perfume that stabbed my nose jolted me awake.
Actually, I don’t know if “jolted me awake” is the right expression. Every nerve awakened as if shrieking.
“Didn’t see you. Are you okay?”
Only after hearing that question did I recall what I’d been forgetting all along, why I’d been anxious from the moment I entered this place.
“You’re Han Ijae, right? From Starium.”
My hell had come right up to my nose.
