Merry Christmas, Author!
For those whose lives are lonely and difficult, the end of the year is never a welcome guest.
Most of the songs drifting from the streets and shops seem to force a warmth they don't feel.
The boat carrying the two of us
Drifts across the night sea
Where will we flow and wander tomorrow?
A traveler who never reveals the destination.
Inside a bustling party room decorated for Christmas.
An '80s city pop track was playing softly in the background here as well.
"..."
Amidst the lively chatter bouncing around the room, Park Geon-woo sat alone, listening intently to the nameless city pop tune.
Only when the lyrics faded into an instrumental bridge did Geon-woo finally look up.
"Writer Park Geon? What are you thinking about all by yourself?"
It was a senior writer he was close with who had spoken to him.
"I'm just a little tired, Hyung."
"Are you not feeling well?"
At the concern of the eldest writer in the room—a respected senior well over forty—the noisy party room quickly quieted down.
"Maybe we shouldn't have asked you to come out to the year-end gathering today."
"Writer Park Geon, are you okay? Are you feeling under the weather today?"
Soon, worried glances showered over him from all directions.
The concern of the thirty-plus writers in attendance was unanimous.
Geon-woo forced a faint smile.
"I think so. Would it be alright if I head out first?"
"Of course, Writer Park Geon. Go get some rest. Don't worry about us, there are plenty of writers here."
"I'll hail a taxi for you, Geon-hyung."
Escorted by the warm, anxious farewells of his fellow writers, Geon-woo stepped out of the party room.
"Get home safe, Hyung. I'll party twice as hard for your sake, okay?"
"Sure. I'll leave my share of the fun to you. Oh, and take this."
"A hangover cure? Aw, Hyung, you didn't have to buy this."
"I felt like I ruined the mood. It's nothing, so just take it with you."
"Get some rest, Hyung."
Sliding into the taxi that his close junior writer had hailed for him, Geon-woo immediately turned his gaze out the window.
With Christmas just around the corner, the streets of Hapjeong Station were teeming with crowds.
Everyone seemed to be laughing, but Geon-woo's face remained blank.
"Sigh..."
Instead, a soft sigh escaped his lips.
It wasn't because of the year-end gathering of web novel writers.
They had been meeting like this for years, and they were all familiar faces.
While online communities like the DC Inside Web Novel Gallery were overflowing with jealousy and malice, every single writer Geon-woo knew personally was a genuinely good person.
They were people who understood the heavy burden that came with being a writer.
Yet, the reason Geon-woo had walked out early...
"It's all because I'm lacking. Yeah... that's it."
A self-deprecating murmur slipped out.
The reason he had left his colleagues behind was entirely his own fault.
His health issues had started a few years ago.
And though he was an Established Writer with some recognition, he had suffered consecutive failures after finishing his first and second works.
The health issues that had plagued him since his debut only dragged him down further as he sank into the dreaded "third-novel slump."
On top of that, he bore the weight of being the breadwinner for a family whose business had gone bankrupt.
As a result, even the naturally optimistic Geon-woo was slowly wearing down.
"Should I just give up?"
The night view of the Han River stretched out as the taxi crossed the Yanghwa Bridge.
Reflected in Geon-woo's eyes, the glittering nightscape looked utterly dark.
Writing, the only escape and lifeline he had clung to in his twenty-eight years of life, was now bringing him nothing but despair.
His fellow writers told him he was still young and had plenty of opportunities ahead, but Geon-woo knew the truth.
His failing heart would only get worse.
"..."
Geon-woo slipped his phone out of his padded jacket pocket.
The screen's glow illuminated the interior of the taxi, which was otherwise bathed in the shadows of the Han River night.
A faint chuckle. It was his first smile of the day.
"They really are an amusing bunch."
Whenever the weight of life crushed him, Geon-woo always read his readers' comments.
Various comments were still being posted on his two completed works.
In particular, the final chapter of the side stories for Fantastic Boys, which he had finished recently, was still highly active.
From readers throwing tantrums for more chapters to warm messages wishing him good health.
He wasn't a particularly grand web novel writer, but it was these comments from his loyal readers that brought a smile to his face.
"Huh?"
As he scrolled through the comments, a look of pleasant surprise washed over Geon-woo's face.
"It's been a while since they commented."
He spotted the username of a long-time reader who had been commenting since his very first work.
Checking the web novel platform app, he saw that a generous donation of 100,000 won had indeed been sent.
"Huh?"
Almost as soon as he posted it, a reply popped up.
Geon-woo quickly posted his reply.
It was an apology to the readers who had waited so long for a new work.
And a promise to himself.
"I'm tired."
Geon-woo quietly closed his eyes.
*Ding-dong.* In the meantime, a notification chimed from the phone in his jacket pocket.
"Meow. Meow."
"Huh?"
As soon as he opened his eyes, Geon-woo tilted his head in confusion.
It was a daily routine for his five cats to climb onto the bed to wake him up, much like the morning sunlight filtering through the cracks in the window.
But today, something was different.
"What's going on?"
Geon-woo picked up his phone.
Dozens of missed calls from his fellow writers had piled up.
The group chat for the writers' gathering also had over 300 unread messages.
*Bzzzt. Bzzzt.* Even at this very moment, his phone was vibrating relentlessly.
"Yeah, Yeong-jae."
"Hyung! Hyung! We—we have a huge problem! A massive one!"
The close junior writer who had hailed him a taxi last night was practically stuttering.
"Did something happen at the gathering yesterday? I have a ton of missed calls, and the group chat is overflowing."
"It's because of you, Hyung! Everyone is losing their minds!"
"Me? Ah... did I ruin the mood yesterday?"
Geon-woo felt a pang of guilt.
Although he had said goodbye, he had left the party room so abruptly.
He worried that his colleagues might have misunderstood his departure.
"No, it's not that! F-first, Hyung, hang up the phone."
"It's not? Then what is it?"
Geon-woo was completely bewildered by the situation.
"What on earth had happened last night, on Christmas Eve?"
"Just check for yourself, Hyung. I'm hanging up now! And don't be too shocked, okay?"
"Ye-Yeong-jae?"
Before he could say another word, the line went dead.
"What is he talking about?"
Out of habit, Geon-woo opened the web novel platform.
If something happened, checking their own stories first was the instinct of any web novel writer.
"Huh?!"
In an instant, Geon-woo's eyes widened.
These were Geon-woo's works uploaded on the platform: Regression Manager and Fantastic Boys.
The problem was, the numbers next to the view counts had completely changed.
Regression Manager had jumped from 5 million to over 10 million views.
And Fantastic Boys had skyrocketed from 9 million to well over 20 million.
"Is... is this a bug?"
Panicking, Geon-woo hurriedly checked the comments.
If there was a system error, he needed to contact his publisher immediately to fix it...
"What in the world is all this?"
Geon-woo couldn't believe his eyes.
It was because of the comments.
Geon-woo's mind spun.
The sheer volume of comments was overwhelming.
Yet, the one name that kept appearing in almost every single comment was Han Se-rin.
"Han Se-rin...?"
Geon-woo repeated the name to himself.
Even Geon-woo knew who Han Se-rin was.
In fact, it was a name that no citizen of South Korea could possibly be ignorant of.
She was the nation's little sister, the country's top idol.
"Why is this happening to me?"
Geon-woo couldn't believe it.
He had absolutely no connection to Han Se-rin.
Still, he was dying to know.
What on earth had happened last night?