South Korea's Super Idol, Park Jihyun? (2)

—Vrrrrm!

The moment the black van's door sealed shut, the gorilla-faced middle-aged woman hung up her phone, looked at me, and heaved a long sigh.

"Jihyun! No—Sihyun. What am I supposed to do with you, honestly."

What? Why was she sighing the second she laid eyes on me? Did I owe this gorilla-looking lady money or something? A jolt of fear shot through me.

"Uh… excuse me? What do you mean by that?"

"Ugh, you slippery little brat. Look at you, playing dumb again. Sihyun, why do you keep ignoring my KakaoTalk messages? Noona was worried sick. Look at your face after just a few days. Oh my god, oh my god—look how dry and rough your skin's gotten. Manager Jeong, you've got moisturizer, right? Hand it over, quick!"

The woman in the black suit riding shotgun dug a moisturizer out of her bag and passed it to the gorilla-faced lady. She squeezed some onto her fingers, rubbed it smooth, and started smearing it across my face. I wanted to refuse, but the sheer intimidation radiating off her made it impossible. And for all her bulk, every little motion of her hands carried the touch of a professional.

"Sihyun, even if you're on break right now, you still have to take care of your skin. Your debut was already later than the other kids—do you have any idea how obvious it is on camera if you skip even a single day of maintenance?"

Huh? Maintenance? On camera?

Something about this conversation was going in a very strange direction. So this gorilla-looking lady wasn't one of the clients I managed at the host bar?

I carefully opened my mouth.

"Um, ma'am. The truth is, I bumped my head a little on Friday and came down with short-term amnesia. So this whole situation is incredibly awkward for me right now. I can't remember anything, so… if it's not too rude to ask, could you tell me who you are?"

At the words bumped my head, the gorilla-faced woman's expression drained of all color. She spun toward the driver up front and barked,

"Daeun! Cancel every single schedule for today. Manager Jeong—call the director of S University Hospital right now. Book an MRI for a full workup immediately. Top-tier medical team. Move it, move it!"

What the hell was with this woman? Being able to dial a hospital director directly meant that even if her face wasn't much to look at, her social clout was enormous. But if I actually went to a hospital, my lie would fall apart, and worst case I'd end up committed to a psych ward. I had to avoid that disaster at all costs.

"No! I already went to the hospital for the head injury and got checked out completely. There's nothing wrong ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with me anywhere else—the doctor said it's just short-term memory loss. He said my memories should come back in about a week. So please, don't make this complicated. Could you just tell me who you are?"

The gorilla-faced woman chewed on that for a moment, then looked at the suited woman in the front seat.

"Manager Jeong, cancel what I just said. Sihyun has an image to protect. He's already been off the air for days—if word gets out that he's been running in and out of hospitals, his reputation could tank in a single second. Sihyun. You're really okay, right? Nothing wrong besides the short-term amnesia?"

"Yes. Nothing wrong at all. Don't worry."

"Alright. I'll trust you for now. You know as well as I do how many livelihoods hang on that body of yours, right? You have to take care of yourself. So look—since you say you don't remember me right now, I'll give you the short version."

And then the gorilla-faced woman laid it out for me: who I was, and why I'd been living a double life.

My jaw dropped so wide I couldn't close it.

No way. No way I was that famous…

"What?! You're saying I'm the famous celebrity Park Jihyun?"

"Oh my, why are you so shocked? You've looked in a mirror, haven't you? You look exactly the same."

Sure, even I had thought I resembled the celebrity Park Jihyun—but from where I stood, Park Jihyun looked about ten times more handsome than me.

"Come on, you're joking, right? I saw him on YouTube—Park Jihyun is insanely good-looking. How could I possibly be Park Jihyun?"

"Ah, that. That's just makeup and wardrobe doing the heavy lifting. You think he has a stylist and a makeup artist for nothing?"

Ah. So that was the legendary power of lighting and camera angles?

Even I had to admit that "resemblance" was underselling it—we looked too much alike. I'd dismissed the idea that I could actually be the celebrity Park Jihyun, but… the department store incident, the way women had swarmed me—there had been far too many coincidences to write off as simple cases of mistaken identity.

"Hey. And you need to be careful. Lately there's been some guy who looks just like you doing lewd stuff on YouTube and brawling with thugs on the subway. You're already taking a month off from broadcasting—if weird rumors like that keep spreading, your image is going to take a massive hit. Right now you're the top idol in South Korea, but you know how fast this industry turns over."

Oh god. That was all me…

Shit. I was going to lose my mind. If I admitted that was me, Jinyeong noona would slap me so hard my ears would ring.

Come to think of it—I was currently sitting face-to-face with the CEO of one of the three major entertainment agencies in what used to be South Korea. My whole body tensed. Cold sweat ran down my back.

"Thankfully it's just short-term amnesia, so you'll get everything back soon, right? Honestly, I feel like I've left a toddler out in the street. Sihyun. You said you'd take just one month off, quit the double life, and focus entirely on album work, so I approved it—but couldn't we at least assign you a manager?"

Huh? So according to this gorilla-faced woman—no, according to Jinyeong noona—I only had one month left to keep going to the office. After that, I'd have to live full-time as Park Jihyun, the flagship idol of JYK Entertainment. Which meant Yu Sihyun, the ordinary employee of Samjong Research's Development Business Department, would vanish completely.

The thought of living as the hottest celebrity in South Korea starting a month from now was thrilling and terrifying in equal measure. Could I actually pull it off? Right now, I had zero confidence. Still—I had a month. I'd figure out how to adapt in that time.

"Sihyun, what ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠are you thinking so hard about? What do we do about the managers?"

Managers, huh…

The second a manager got attached, my private life was finished. Freedom gone. Every single moment under surveillance.

"No. Jinyeong noona. We made a promise. You said you wouldn't interfere at all for one month."

Jinyeong noona let out a long, knowing sigh, as if she'd expected exactly that answer.

"Ugh. Fine. Alright. So take care of yourself. Short-term amnesia, my ass. Amnesia. You know daily vocal practice and dance practice are the bare minimum, right? Half air, half sound. Always remember your breathing technique."

True to a professional agency CEO, she drew a hard line between personal and business. When she fretted over my health she sounded like any neighborhood auntie—but the moment work came up, she turned into a tiger. I shrank without meaning to.

"Yes, CEO."

"Good. If you've got it, head into the office. Oh—and you said that secret KakaoTalk wouldn't open, right? The password should be 2028. The day you joined the company."

I pulled out my phone and typed 2028 into the secret KakaoTalk lock screen.

"Oh—CEO. It opened."

"Mm, good. Sihyun. From now on, don't leave noona on read. Ignore my messages again and there won't be any vacation—nothing. Got it?"

"Yes, CEO."

When I answered in a deflated voice, Jinyeong noona patted my shoulder.

"Listen to South Korea's number-one idol sounding like that! Chin up, Sihyun. We'll stay in touch over KakaoTalk. Noona's schedule is stacked, so I've got to go."

"Yes. Take care."

—Vroooom!

The second I stepped out of the car, the van carrying Jinyeong noona peeled away. Of course she was busy—she ran one of the three biggest entertainment agencies in the country. Her face wasn't pretty, but she was ruthlessly self-disciplined and still had a human side. I could see exactly why Jinyeong noona was the CEO of JYK.

I'd only met the agency head for a few minutes, but it seemed like the otherworld Yu Sihyun had chosen his company well.

Before heading into the office, I stopped at a convenience store, knocked back a yukgaejang cup ramen and a triangle gimbap for a rough lunch, and tried to organize my thoughts.

So: office worker by day, idol celebrity by night. That was the double ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠life I'd been living. No wonder I'd been falling asleep at work every day and looking exhausted. Of course the coworkers in this world had been understanding about that version of Yu Sihyun and made sure he was comfortable. This bastard had been living the sweet life.

Either way—the otherworld Yu Sihyun I'd assumed was working at a host bar wasn't some thug in an illegal joint. He was a dazzling celebrity, the kind of job everyone in South Korea dreamed of having. A cool guy.

What the hell couldn't this guy do? Handsome face, great body, good in a fight, hung like a horse. And being an idol meant he could sing and dance too. Had God dumped every cheat code on the otherworld Yu Sihyun and left the original-world version a total loser as a result?

Haah. Whatever the reason, I was the otherworld Yu Sihyun now. I was going to freely exploit every absurd, broken stat this guy had.

And to do that, the first thing on the list was following the quest that had popped up on the Bojichang: tame the feminist slut bitches at the company. Only then could I stay in this beautiful gender-reversed South Korea instead of getting kicked back to the dogshit original world.

Haah. One month left.

The feminist slut bitches I had to tame: Assistant Manager Kim Mihui, Employee Seo Yuri, Deputy General Manager Choi Dajeong, and Team Leader Kim Ayeong. Four of them.

I needed to put the pedal down on taming those feminist sluts, I told myself, and started walking toward my playground—Samjong Research—when my phone buzzed with a KakaoTalk notification.

Thinking Jinyeong noona had already messaged me, I checked the screen. But it wasn't her. The preview window showed the name Han Yeseul.

It was a message from the cute pizza girl Han Yeseul—the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one I'd completely forgotten about while I'd been busy taming the sluts at the office.