Summer's Time Loop (6)
In my first life, back when I was a shut-in composer, my latest track had barely scraped together 287 views after days of nothing. And now, just one hour after upload, it was sitting at 26,210. Considering how stingy views were back then, especially in the early hours, and factoring in that I was just an amateur without a solid fanbase—this was already a massive hit.
"Is this a glitch?"
For a split second, I genuinely wondered if the site was bugged. Of course, I knew better. Success in this industry had all sorts of variables. Talent was essential to blow up, sure. But failure? It wasn't always just "you suck, so you flopped." Not by a long shot.
Right now, though, staring at my screen, I couldn't shake the thought.
It's just because I'm handsome now.
Damn, talk about a reality check.
But then I spotted the real glitch. I'd been refreshing nonstop, and at some point, the number had frozen solid. Right around the one-hour mark after upload. The views were stuck at 26,210. They'd climbed steeply—hundreds, then thousands, then tens of thousands—before screeching to a halt. No matter how many times I refreshed, or toggled my Wi-Fi, nothing. The screen stubbornly read [26,210 views].
"Seriously a glitch?"
Just to be sure, I shot a quick message to Kang Saero.
The screenshot from Kang Saero was a capture from a portal site's Q&A board.
Receive—the platform for uploading and sharing videos, the world's top content giant. Unrivaled in the content game.
A massive influx of people? For real? I still couldn't wrap my head around it. What the hell did I do to deserve this? To confirm, I dug around online. Turns out, it was a known phenomenon called "freezing." Receive had some technical limits back then, so when traffic spiked wildly, they'd halt view updates for verification.
Once verified, they'd dump all the held views at once.
The freeze was due to server limits and verification delays. And it usually only happened with global idol groups' comeback MVs. Receive was the world's top video platform, not some fragile joke.
And now it was happening on my channel.
Does this even make sense?
Even with the broadcast boost, chills ran down my spine. Clutching my racing heart, I checked the comments next.
[2,111 comments]
Views frozen, but comments kept pouring in—fast.
100k? Or more? Might sound modest now, but back then, multiply by 10 for the real scale. Pre-regression, that'd be a million views.
Trembling, I scrolled down to check reactions.
As expected, visual praise dominated. Proof that Baek Yul sunbae's direction had landed perfectly.
"Seryeon junior doesn't need to do anything."
"I'll loop it, just stand there."
"I'll take responsibility!"
"AC's on!"
After the MV shoot, I'd treated everyone to pizza. Pizza for wrap party—standard, right? But as a composer, nothing beat praise for the music.
Scrolling further, music compliments jumped out.
Melody lovers galore.
Nods from listeners who seemed to know their stuff. Then vocal picks.
Electrifying. Even reactions to Kang Saero. In my first life, her talent never got its due—wrong agency, no proper producing. But now? Her buried genius shone through my song. Seeing someone close thrive on my stage? A different thrill from my own praise.
Plus Baek Yul sunbae's visuals sealed it. No way to fail.
My pre-release buzz from broadcasts and lives. The visual perfection headlined by face chemistry. Summer-fresh music quality. Cinematic mise-en-scène and addictive MV structure. Cue the interpretation frenzy. All glowing reviews. Pop culture's unpredictable, but this momentum wouldn't fizzle easy.
Click.
Refresh. Views: 310k / 3 hours ago
"......Whoa."
300k in three hours. #3 in rising popular videos.
And the next day.
[MV] Kim Seryeon - Blue Lemon Sky (feat. Kang Saero)
[Rising Popular Video #1]
Views: 1.01M / 1 day ago
[5,429 comments]
The algorithm's blessing hit a million views. In this era? Already? Insane.
Meanwhile, in a corner of the waiting room hallway, Ji Soeun was surrounded by the writers.
"Jiso!"
"Jiso!"
The nickname "Jiso" had fully replaced her name. Now a topical finalist, the top fan-favorite on Star's Birth.
Producers just wanted one thing from contestants like her: Just sing well. Don't screw up. Don't cause scandals. Basically, do your job so we can make the show shine.
But today was different. Because someone outside the audition was stirring a massive storm: composer Kim Seryeon's Blue Lemon Sky was exploding. At breakneck speed.
Bring that guy back on air, even briefly? Ratings would skyrocket. Writers were salivating.
And it wasn't a stretch—Kim Seryeon had appeared on Star's Birth, stamping himself in viewers' minds. Plus, he had ties to a current contestant: Ji Soeun. Claiming bestie status. Bot duo in the canyon last time, even.
Securing him was a ratings guarantee. But he was MIA on contact, so they clung to the one link: Ji Soeun.
"Jiso, real talk, one favor."
"Please, just one."
"You're actually tight with Kim Seryeon, right?"
"Duh, of course."
Ji Soeun waved them off with the coolest expression.
"Total besties. Real ones. Inseparable perfect friends."
Even as she said it, calling them close felt like a stretch. She wanted to get closer, but his replies lately were all "busy composing." It stung more each time.
The writers' eyes sparkled anyway.
"Whoa."
"Nice."
"Any dating vibes? Could happen?"
Dating. With Kim Seryeon.
"Eh, he's an idol trainee—tough, right?"
Ugh, if he weren't...
But Ji Soeun played it cool with a grin.
"Me and Seryeon? Strictly strategic alliance. Win-win partners."
"Phew..."
"Yeah! Lock in that girl-friend spot for the narrative."
Writers sighed in relief.
"We trust you, Jiso! Drag him to the finalist interview?"
"No worries. Say the word, he'll come."
"Jiso-eun! You're the best!"
Thumbs up, they vanished. Her cool smile evaporated. Pouting, she leaned against the wall.
Business my ass.
She pulled out her phone, opened Stargram. Kim Seryeon's MV promo post popped up.
Likes climbing live. Comments all about the red scarf and Kang Saero romance.
"Sigh."
Not a fan.
I want real friendship, not business.
Thumb tapping, jealousy bubbling. If not for idol rules, she'd have charged in over Saero...
But quitting wasn't her style. Feigning nonchalance—with a petty edge—she commented.
Posted to the top instantly. She stared, grumbled to herself, and locked the screen.
"Tch. So hot."
Words said, she kept sneaking peeks for a reply notification from Kim Seryeon.