Chapter 9
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Dream Broadway Opening
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“Still not feeling well? Practicing might be too much then. Listening okay?”
Since we’d already decided to head back, I scrapped the plan to hear Lee Cheong-ha sing today.
I stood up without a second thought and headed toward one of the audio setups in each practice room as I asked.
“Listening?”
“Yeah. Got a favorite number? Let’s listen together.”
“Numbers are the best. Hmm, what should we start with?”
The mention of numbers lit up Lee Cheong-ha’s face with excitement, like she’d totally forgotten she was pretending to be sick.
It was pretty funny, but I pretended not to notice.
I smoothly connected my phone to the audio and asked her.
“You know the actress Kim So-yeon? I really like her.”
“No way, seriously? She’s my absolute favorite.”
“Yeah? I’ve been keeping an eye on her lately.”
“Did you see her debut? I’ve been a huge fan since day one!”
I already knew from interviews that Lee Cheong-ha was a Kim So-yeon fan.
“Then should we look up some of her videos?”
“I’ve got a ton saved. Hang on?”
The second Kim So-yeon came up, Lee Cheong-ha frantically pulled out her phone and dove into her saved list.
Her phone seemed faster, so I unplugged mine and hooked hers up instead.
“This one, this one. Oh, this too. Seen this? It went mega viral on StarStar. Back when we were in middle school.”
Back when we were in middle school...
That was over twenty years ago, counting from before my regression.
I didn’t remember exactly, but there was a fuzzy memory of Kim So-yeon’s video blowing up sometime.
Thankfully, seeing what Lee Cheong-ha showed jogged it loose.
“I skipped StarStar myself, but I think I’ve seen this one.”
“Right? This part’s my favorite. Listen to it.”
She played what she claimed was her top pick.
We enjoyed the number along with Kim So-yeon’s acting for a bit.
“That part was intentional on her part. Someone clueless might think it’s just an ad-lib, but she’s got real sense.”
“Wow, you even notice stuff like that. Impressive.”
We rewound it a few times, paused on one spot, and I pointed it out.
She was blown away, thanked me for revealing it wasn’t an ad-lib—she hadn’t known—and gushed.
After that, I dropped a few industry secrets I knew from before the regression, and she reacted like an overexcited audience member.
Watching her, I couldn’t help but grin.
This must be why people want disciples. What a weird feeling.
***
We were deep into Kim So-yeon belting out a number when the next student knocked, the one with the room booked.
I cleared out quick and headed to the dorm.
“You’re the first person I’ve met who knows so much about musicals.”
Lee Cheong-ha was quiet in class, probably because she didn’t have close friends.
But today?
Once I got her talking, she wouldn’t stop. Must’ve been dying to chat all this time.
“Yeah?”
“Maybe ’cause I transferred from a regular high school... Ha ha.”
Her face darkened for a split second as she said it.
I caught it out of the corner of my eye and cleared my throat loudly on purpose.
“Gotta say, I do know a fair bit. You saw me getting praised today, right?”
She burst out laughing at my dumb joke.
“For some reason... being around you feels so comfortable. You’re younger, but you feel like an older brother.”
*That’s because I am your real oppa.*
She smiled sadly as she said it.
She’d just told me in the practice room that she was a year older, having transferred specially from a regular high school to Cheongyeom Arts High.
Of course, I already knew.
“Am I just floating on the outside...? Am I smiling for real, or just faking it? It kinda scared me.”
Her honest words made me think I needed to take one more step forward with her.
Good thing I hadn’t pushed her to sing today.
“Don’t worry. You’ll do great.”
“Pfft. How would you know?”
“I know. You’ll do great.”
My casual tone made her turn to me in surprise—I could feel it.
I didn’t look her way.
Instead, I gazed up at the dorm we’d reached.
“We’re here. Get back safe.”
***
Third morning in the dorm. I woke to muscle pain crashing over my whole body and grimaced.
Blame yesterday’s PE class—ran my ass off.
*Before the regression, this wouldn’t have fazed me. Definitely out of shape.*
Groaning, I dragged myself up and jotted a fitness routine in my phone app.
-Run 5km daily
-Sit-ups: 50
-Push-ups: 20
-Squats: 50
Start with this.
Pushing too hard right away wouldn’t be smart with my current build.
While I was at it, might as well.
No time like now—I threw on something easy, laced up my shoes.
That’s when Woo-sik rustled behind me.
“What’re you doing...?”
“Heading out for a workout. Wanna come?”
His sleepy voice trailed off as he peered outside without a word.
Pitch dark—it was still predawn, sun nowhere in sight.
He shook his head and rolled over, ignoring me to sleep.
“......?”
Didn’t expect the instant ghosting.
***
Thursday’s first period was dance class.
Everyone had changed into comfy clothes ahead of time and was scattered around the studio, warming up.
By now, after a few days, they knew it meant a test.
No chairs or desks—just wall-to-wall mirrors and a sprung floor that required dance sneakers.
“Hey. Everyone, sit.”
The bell hadn’t even finished when dance teacher Jung Hye-seon strode in.
The students looked a bit taken aback by her intimidating vibe.
She smacked the floor with the stick in her hand—thwack thwack.
They huddled up in confusion.
“Teacher. Where do we sit?”
Woo-sik tentatively raised his hand.
“Seven per group. On the floor.”
They scrambled into neat rows on the ground.
“I’m Jung Hye-seon. Was a principal dancer with the National Theater Company. Retired now, so I just teach you kids.”
Jung Hye-seon was the toughest teacher at this school.
Even as a woman, she scared male teachers shitless—a tiger of a instructor.
Ankle injury forced her retirement, but she still danced actively as a judge and such.
Her skills as a dancer were beyond trusted.
“Warmed up? Like the other classes, we jump straight into the dance test.”
Right on cue, Song Ha-na shot her hand up.
“Song Ha-na? Speak.”
She carried nothing but that stick.
Right—famous for memorizing all the names before class.
“Is dance free genre too?”
“Yeah. Do what you want. Your best, your proudest. Give it everything you’ve got.”
“But Teacher, I heard you have an ankle injury.”
Song Ha-na lobbed the topic no one dared touch, right after Jung Hye-seon finished.
But the teacher didn’t bat an eye.
If anything, she seemed pleased, a faint smile on her lips.
“Does that mean we can’t request you as one-on-one mentor?”
“Go ahead. It’s not as bad as you think. I can still outdance you all—just can’t practice to death and hit the stage. Don’t worry about it.”
She laid out her injury plain, no sugarcoating.
The students gaped at her.
Cool as hell. Yeah, she was cool.
Owning a weakness like that—something a dancer might hide—and calling it no big deal? Not easy.
But the pressure was immense too.
She could say that because she was *that* good.
“Practice till you drop if you want the stage” was the flip side.
“Alright, let’s start.”
She took a seat in the corner chair.
“Dance is about delighting the eyes first. Always move thinking whose gaze your fingertips, your toes will catch.”
The kids, who’d learned from Han Hyo-jin’s class that words mattered, listened intently.
Seeing it, Jung Hye-seon grinned.
“You dance?”
“Nope.”
Woo-sik whispered, face tense.
Scaredy-cat.
Should’ve run with me today—built up some lung capacity.
He sighed in relief at my answer.
“You’ve got something you suck at too.”
Big misunderstanding.
“Not ‘a bit’—I’m good.”
“...?”
“*Really* good. My secret weapon.”
My confident smile twisted Woo-sik’s expression oddly.
“Vocals and acting went front to back. I go back to front.”
Her unexpected call made the room buzz.
The back-number kids, who’d relaxed, bolted up in panic.
The dance tests from the rear were solid enough.
Cheongyeom Arts High level—no one was outright bad.
Even the ones who wouldn’t make it big had pro-tier skills.
“Lee Do-hyun.”
My turn came earlier than the trio’s, as usual.
“Yeah.”
I stepped forward without hesitation, their stares burning.
“Dance won’t be his thing. Look at that body—total no-rhythm face.”
Moon Woo-hyuk whispered to Song Ha-na for no reason.
She shot him a quick glare to shut up, then locked eyes forward.
“Whether he dances well or not’s got nothing to do with me.”
Her words said one thing, but her laser focus screamed another. Moon Woo-hyuk pouted, narrowed his eyes, and watched me get into starting position.
Then Woo-sik, snuck up behind them unnoticed, whispered.
“Secret, but Do-hyun says dance is his best.”
They jumped and whipped around at his voice.
Woo-sik smirked, savoring their shocked faces.
***
I’d been waiting for this day.
My best.
My proudest.
The one to leave the biggest impact.
Dance.
I strode confidently to the center of the makeshift stage where the students sat.
“What track?”
Free dance meant any song the student wanted—they had a huge playlist, broadcast hits to musical numbers.
Just match the music and go wild.
Deep breath.
Before regression, the song that gave Do-hyun his big break—and the despair I never wanted to feel again.
My voice shook a little as I named it.
“The Dream Broadway opening, please.”
The miracle casting I bombed out of in one day.
Perfect for unveiling right here in the heart of reborn Cheongyeom Arts High.