Chapter 94
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 94
Chapter Title: Wellside Premiere
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“Nothing’s impossible, but… why this one…….”
“I saw the video too. The Last Show.”
Chae Si-hyun’s sudden words as she appeared at Wellside Theater caught me off guard, and I couldn’t keep a straight face.
Had she thought the same thing when I gave that excuse yesterday?
It just didn’t add up.
I knew this performance of The Last Show was going to flop hard, but skipping her solo concert to come here?
“Chae Si-hyun, Lee Do-hyun. Here are your tickets.”
While I eyed her suspiciously, the staff member swapped our tickets.
“Thank you.”
Chae Si-hyun took them with a casual smile.
She grabbed my ticket too and turned right away, so I hurried after her like a lost puppy.
She’d been all smiles for the staff moments ago, but now she sat in the waiting area with a haughty expression.
I slipped quietly into the seat beside her and checked my watch.
About twenty minutes until the show started.
It felt awkward to say anything, and the air between us grew tense.
“Wow. What’s that…….”
“A goddess. Total goddess.”
Whispers rippled around us.
The crowd was sparse, so they carried clearly, but Chae Si-hyun ignored them completely.
Whether she was used to the murmurs, couldn’t hear them, or just didn’t care, she showed no sign of it.
I watched her in fascination.
“Shall we head in?”
With the show about to start, a staff member announced entry.
Chae Si-hyun turned to me right away.
I’d been staring at her in wonder, so I flinched.
“Sure.”
She stood up before I even finished, heading straight into the theater.
***
“Why.”
Seated in the audience, waiting for the curtain to rise, Chae Si-hyun asked without looking my way.
I’d been gazing at her without realizing it.
I just couldn’t figure out what was going through her head.
“Doesn’t it bother you?”
“What.”
“The whispers outside earlier. All that murmuring.”
“Not interested.”
Was she really nineteen?
It felt like she was on her second life too.
Honestly, if we were talking pure talent, hers was even more unbelievable than mine.
And this maturity just added to it.
Once the thought hit, I couldn’t shake the suspicion.
“Hello, everyone! Thanks for coming out tonight.”
The host appeared, signaling the musical’s start.
“Once the show begins, you won’t be allowed back in if you leave…….”
The usual pre-show announcements followed.
With the actors on stage, I finally fixed my eyes forward.
What was I thinking?
No more pointless suspicions.
The announcements wrapped up, the host vanished backstage, and the theater lights dimmed.
Focus on the stage now.
This was the premiere of Wellside, after all.
I never imagined I’d see its premiere.
It hit me all at once—epic.
If I’d told my pre-regression colleagues, they’d have been green with envy.
Not that I could go back now.
The stage lights flared to life, revealing a lone actor center stage.
“Ha. How am I gonna pay rent this month?”
With that first line, the musical Wellside began.
Chills ran down my spine.
Having seen it multiple times before regression, I remembered that line crystal clear.
By 2030, it had run for over a decade, yet the opening was unchanged.
The story gripped me, and I dove in.
Compared to my last viewing pre-regression, there were noticeable tweaks.
They swapped this line here, redesigned that prop.
This part’s identical.
My eyes darted faster than if I were just enjoying it.
Somehow, it turned into a comparison session with past viewings.
One thing unchanged across pre- and post-regression: the numbers and story were top-tier.
What is this? The premiere’s this good?
Meanwhile, Chae Si-hyun’s eyes widened as she watched.
Honestly, I figured a first-year who’d barely finished her first semester wouldn’t know much.
Yet here she was, drawn to this obscure newbie production like a moth to flame.
The opening hooked her instantly with relatable stakes.
A rock-solid storyline blending impact and logic.
Addictive, powerful numbers threading the whole show.
Acting synced perfectly with dialogue and direction.
She knew right away.
This was a gem.
Chae Si-hyun glanced at the freshman beside her, Do-hyun.
A smile played on his lips, lasers shooting from his eyes as he devoured the show.
He was genuinely loving it.
She watched him, intrigued.
He’d said he hadn’t seen it… Did he really not know how amazing it was?
Or how did he know its value?
Then, sensing her gaze, Do-hyun turned.
“What?”
He mouthed it mid-show.
Why’s she staring?
Chae Si-hyun shook her head no and turned back to the stage.
He tilted his head, then refocused too.
***
Good call coming.
It was fun years later too, but the premiere felt fresh.
The raw energy in the actors’ performances, the intimate small-theater vibe—it was a whole new high.
Pure perfection.
Could I join this musical someday?
I was progressing faster than pre-regression, so maybe.
The thought swelled dreams inside me.
“This place any good?”
The woman who’d one day grace that very stage wrinkled her nose.
Post-show, we’d ended up at Hoi Snacks.
My strong recommendation paid off.
I’d worried the rich girl wouldn’t go for a snack bar, but she nodded and followed at the mention.
“Definitely.”
“You look like a foodie.”
Look like? She seemed picky even from appearance.
“Don’t worry. This is my go-to spot.”
Pre-regression, during my Daehakro wandering days, I came here daily. I could vouch for it.
No place beat it on price, taste, or portion.
Pork stir-fry for just 4,000 won—I squeezed it in whenever.
Gone by 2030, so I’d missed it bad.
Never thought I’d return.
“Your go-to? You live around here?”
Ah, right—she was only seventeen now.
Slip-up.
I’d been extra careful post-regression, no mistakes lately, but nostalgia loosened my tongue.
“No. It’s a chain…….”
“This place……?”
She rolled her eyes skeptically and scanned the shop.
Faded wallpaper, walls scribbled with actor and student graffiti.
The auntie bustling professionally between serving and cash—polished as pros.
No way it screamed franchise. Just a shabby neighborhood snack joint.
But I wasn’t backing down.
“Yeah. We’ve got one in my neighborhood too.”
Half a year post-regression.
Times like this, shamelessness was key.
“My elementary school friend’s mom runs one…….”
“Pork stir-fry, ramen tteokbokki, tuna kimbap—order up.”
I was rambling when the auntie brought our food.
Whew.
Perfect timing.
“Try it first. It’s seriously good.”
Chae Si-hyun eyed me and the food suspiciously, then grabbed chopsticks for a bite of ramen tteokbokki.
Her eyes widened slightly, head tilting.
Then she snatched a tuna kimbap.
“Whoa…….”
Her eyes grew more, a soft gasp escaping.
Knew it.
“Try the pork rice too.”
Now her suspicious glare turned expectant as she scooped a big spoonful.
She looked pleased.
Ecstatic smile, nodding along.
“How is it? Good, right?”
“Yeah. I’ll give it that.”
Admission before she even chewed fully.
Seeing that, I finally took a bite myself.
Yep, this taste.
Plain menu, but here? Magic.
Drug-laced or what?
Both of us, satisfied, dug in properly.
Time had passed during the show, so we ate in silence for a bit.
“How was the show?”
Curious what Cheongyeom’s top talent thought.
She’d seemed meh pre-show.
But post-curtain, she looked hooked. Her take intrigued me.
“Great. Fun.”
She replied, topping her tuna kimbap with a ramen tteokbokki green onion.
O. She knows her stuff.
“Right? That number by the playground—I loved it.”
“Oh, that one.”
She nodded agreement, kimbap in mouth.
Swallowed quick, excited.
“Yeah. That lead actor—Maxung? First I’d heard of him, but his acting was killer. Nailed the angst of real youth. The talk-sing number was peak… Director’s staging? Or actor’s improv?”
She spoke faster than expected.
Really into it.
Feeling warm, I shared my thoughts.
“Right. Like… a slightly wet voice?”
“Less wet, more submerged in deep water.”
“Yeah! That muffled depth hit perfect. Crazy part? Diction still crystal clear.”
“Exactly. Felt like he was chatting with me. Not high notes, but barely using head voice made it so clean.”
She had more to say than I thought.
We’d only recently started talking much, but surprising.
We chatted forever about plot, acting.
So much talk revived my pre-show question.
“Do you relate to that youth angst stuff?”
With her, she never felt like a nineteen-year-old high schooler.
Even chatting this smoothly with my thirty-three-year-old soul.
“Just… you feel it. How much he thought, how hard it was.”
She said it like she’d lived it.
Wait, no way.
Suspicion reignited.
“Senior…….”
Think about it—why assume I’m the only regressor?
“Did you… regress……?”
What if there was another?
Thump.
Nerves jangling, I stared at her lips.
She cocked her head.
“What’s that? Practicing lines for a new show?”
Pure clueless face.
Yeah. What was I thinking? Of course not.
What’s wrong with me today?
I chuckled dryly, shaking my head.
“Nah.”
“What? Spill. Another hidden gem only you know?”
“No, really nothing.”
“Hmm.”
She eyed me suspiciously, then declared.
“Last kimbap’s mine.”
“Go for it.”
Like I’d snatch it, she grabbed it fast.
Paused mid-bite, looked at me.
“You—next time you get that vibe for a solid unknown show like this, tell me too.”
“Huh?”
“Today was fun and great thanks to you. Thanks.”
She popped the last kimbap whole.
Should’ve ordered more.
She ate more than expected.
No clue why, but I felt like I’d cleared some hurdle, sighing in relief.