Sixth Ghost Story - College Entrance Exam Banned Song (9)
“Dressing room, right here.”
We'd been crouching in the hallway for ages when we finally spotted the sign reading Donghae Dressing Room and crept up to the door. Clunk, clunk. It was locked. But we could hear muffled voices from inside.
“Someone's in there.”
“Porinseu, maybe?”
“Try asking them to open up, President.”
Knock knock. The moment I rapped on the door, chaos erupted inside again. A moment later, a girl's voice came from the other side.
[Who is it?]
···Who should I say? Ghost Story Club president?
“Uh.”
I fumbled awkwardly, but Seon-ah stepped up to the door and answered for me.
“Porinseu... right? We've come to rescue you. So... ”
There was a brief consultation from the other side, then the voice asked again.
[Prove you're sane.]
“W-well, how exactly do we prove that...”
[Tell us who you are first.]
“We're students from a school nearby.”
[Students?]
Murmurs.
[Which school?]
“Nakseong High School.”
[Why are students at a broadcasting station...?]
“We heard there was a stage for the music show recording tonight...”
[Here to see the stage?]
“Yes.”
I went with the flow for now. After another round of murmurs, there was a click as the lock disengaged.
[Come in.]
“···Thank you.”
I signaled to the club members and slowly pushed the door open, stepping into the dressing room.
Inside, five girls stared at us tensely, clutching weapons like lamps or canes. Their stage outfits clung tightly to slender figures—shirts and ribbons accentuating slim waists, short skirts, glamorous makeup. Huge eyes that could make any guy's heart race at first glance, delicate jawlines. Five beautiful young women teetering on the edge between girl and adult.
Wow, they're gorgeous, the thought hit me, leaving me speechless for a moment. Right before my eyes stood Porinseu, the top girl group of the era.
“Um...”
One member spoke up, her long lashes fluttering. I snapped back to reality.
“Are you the Porinseu who performed that song?”
The girls nodded slowly.
“Any idea why this is happening?”
I cut straight to the chase, but Porinseu just exchanged hesitant glances.
“Didn't you come to save us?”
One asked in a small voice. I shook my head.
“You saw the internet, right?”
“Yes.”
“Nowhere in Korea is safe.”
The members watched quietly, wary.
“Then why are you here?”
“To find the cause of this incident.”
“And solve it.”
A bold girl who'd been observing stepped forward, her voice sharp.
“Who are you to solve it?”
“Who's the leader?”
“You don't even know that?”
She put her hands on her hips, incredulous. It was Cha Ji-won, Porinseu's leader.
“I'm the leader. What do you want to know?”
“Anything related to this phenomenon. You're the ones who sang it.”
“Oh, come on.”
Cha Ji-won clicked her tongue in disbelief. She huddled with the others, whispering, then glared at us.
“I don't know what detective game you're playing, but I'll answer what I can. If you're not here to save us, don't harass us—just do what you need and go.”
Porinseu's leader shot us down with her pretty face. They're not the culprits? I was thrown off but pressed on with the essentials.
“People who hear your new song get addicted and spread it like zombies. Any clue why, as the singers?”
“No idea. We're panicking too. All we did was take the new track from the agency and promote it hard.”
Did they really know nothing? Better to dig into the song itself then.
“You said the agency gave it to you. Who composed and wrote the lyrics?”
“Adults. Famous ones handpicked by the agency. We met a few times during recording, but don't know them well. They're not suspicious, though.”
Cha Ji-won answered crisply. She was maybe a year or two older, but her confident beauty had me momentarily cowed. Still, I had to ask everything.
“Everyone who hears it goes mad, but you—the ones who've heard it most—are fine. Why?”
“Do we have to explain?”
She glared at my interrogative tone. Some members shrank back, scared; others glared with her.
“Yes. You need to explain that.”
I pushed firmly. Cha Ji-won pouted sullenly.
“No idea. Maybe we're sane so we can spread it effectively.”
It made sense. Gyeong-won nodded beside me. If the goal was spreading the song, keeping Porinseu intact was ideal—they could perform everywhere, even on TV.
“Nothing beyond that?”
“No.”
“No weird feelings while singing?”
“None.”
Dead end. I'd hoped they'd know something. I circled back to the creators.
“You said the composer and lyricist aren't suspicious. How can you be sure?”
“They lost it first.”
“How?”
“The composer stabbed his ears with an awl, screaming the song wouldn't stop, and killed himself. The lyricist was found by his family scrawling lyrics until his fingers were pulp—sent to a mental hospital.”
Horrific images flooded my mind; I was speechless. Amid my grilling, Cha Ji-won had answered sharply throughout. Seeing our stunned faces at the gruesome ends, she added smugly,
“All yesterday. The manager snapped this morning entering the station. He knelt, begged us to stop singing, went berserk—staff dragged him off.”
The YouTube promo started with them stepping off a van. Right after filming, the manager cracked too.
“Whew.”
What next? I glanced at Gyeong-won and Seon-ah. Serious faces, but no leads. I met Cha Ji-won's impatient gaze as she tapped her foot.
No choice but the big one.
“The chorus lyrics. Know what they form when played backward?”
“···Pardon?”
Her eyes widened like an anime character. People's eyes can really be that big, my heart raced, but I pressed on.
“You didn't know?”
Blank expression.
“That chorus—was it written by that lyricist too?”
“W-well...”
Cha Ji-won faltered visibly, turning to whisper with her members. Soon, she glared back.
“You're just asking one-sidedly. We have questions too. How'd you know we were in this huge building's dressing room? Answer that, and we'll talk.”
Fair question. No reason not to. I scanned for the youngest face—the middle schooler member, a year younger than us. She trembled, hiding among her sisters. I didn't know names—too indifferent to girl groups—but pointed.
“I read your lips in today's video, maknae. You mouthed 'help.'”
"Help."
Dasom's face lit up like Ah! The others stared, shocked. Seon-ah and Gyeong-won gaped too—this was news to them.
“···Really?”
Someone soothed; Dasom nodded happily.
“Ah, you noticed. I knew... if you're a fan, someone would come...”
“Heavens. Waiting for Prince Charming? I'm going mad...”
Cha Ji-won shook her wavy hair, exasperated. Her eyes softened a fraction as she looked at me.
“Fine. Since you asked nicely, but it's ridiculous... The chorus lyrics? We got them from the lyricist, but strictly speaking, he didn't write them.”
“Then?”
“Rumor has it if you walk alone here, you hear a woman muttering. He heard it on a late-night errand, loved how it stuck, made it the chorus.”
She shrugged.
“That's secondhand.”
“···Was it near Room 3?”
“Oh, yeah. How'd you know?”
Seon-ah, Gyeong-won, and I locked eyes. It was here.
“Can you show us?”
“No. Too dangerous.”
Cha Ji-won refused flat-out.
“Room 3 is central on the fifth floor—waiting rooms only. Packed with singers for tonight's live music show. No one's come down.”
“No one's come down...”
“Crawling with singers doing our song. Super risky.”
Porinseu's hit had conquered the music world literally.
“We need to go there to resolve this.”
“Why? What's in Room 3?”
“Uh...”
Truth was, even I didn't know. Backward lyrics hinted at someone buried, but who? Staying put changed nothing.
“Room 3 might have the key to ending this.”
I pushed.
“What key? Evidence?”
“Well... the lyrics...”
I hesitated. Fifth floor jammed with singers? Suicide mission. Risky even if lyrics were suspicious—worth gambling lives?
“The lyrics? Anyway, we can't go. Too dangerous. We'll hide here till the military sorts it. We told you where—good enough?”
Harsh, but logical. Like me leading Ghost Story Club, she led Porinseu—prioritizing safety. From a normal view, I was insane, sacrificing members to reach there.
But common sense won't solve this. Fight irrationality irrationally.
To fix it, reach Room 3 from the lyrics, confront whoever's buried there—dead or alive. That's where she and I diverged. I'd expend members for any shot forward; she'd bunker down safely.
Though that gap stems from whether I can rewind time.
Club down to me, Seon-ah, Gyeong-won—three. Convince her, gain five more. Eight beats three odds-wise.
How to sway her? Gratitude swelled for my members trusting my shaky logic this far.
Buy burgers after solving this.
“J-Joon... let's just go ourselves.”
Seon-ah tugged my sleeve, resigned.
“Yeah, President. No choice. Wake Deok-hoon by the elevator?”
I eyed each Porinseu member silently.
“Staring won't work. Just go already.”
Cute, pretty five girls. Observing slowly, I spotted it.
“···Going or not? Hide next door if you want—it's empty. Anyway, this room's ours.”
I stood wordless; Cha Ji-won snapped casually, annoyed. But my eyes fixed on Dasom. She mouthed something.
"No-ti-ced?"
"Fan, right?"
Only to me, silent lips. Same as the video. What was she trying to say? Notice what?
Me glued to Dasom's lips, Cha Ji-won followed my gaze and smirked.
“Smitten with our Dasom? Dummy.”
Dasom flinched, pursing her soft pink lips tight. Why? Can't let sisters know?
“Joon...”
Seon-ah fidgeted, tugging my sleeve.
“Let's just go.”
"No-ti-ced?"
"Po-rin-seu."
Got it. So that's it.
I get it now. It's okay. I nodded to her. Dasom relaxed, eyes closing, then watched me expectantly.
Clues clicked in my head, puzzle fitting. Rough outline formed—not complete, pieces missing. Like, why was that person buried there? Unknowable till world went to hell. Truth via news post-rewind.
Someone buried in Room 3. Thought I'd learn ripping up the floor—but maybe reveal it here, simply. Convince Cha Ji-won instantly, merge forces.
“Our Dasom that pretty? Can't look away.”
Cha Ji-won teased again.
“Yes, way too pretty.”
Seon-ah gaped in shock; Gyeong-won mouthed What?
“···Oh my.”
Cha Ji-won blinked, then narrowed her eyes seductively.
“Then stand at the door, watch for intruders? Be our knight protecting the pretty princesses. Deal?”
“Sure?”
She winked playfully.
“Yeah. Do that. Now scram, quick. Take your friends.”
“But I think...”
I scanned them slowly.
“Not watch who comes in—but who leaves.”
“···What?”
Ghost Story Club