Chapter 64: To You (6)
64. To You (6)
After crying as many tears as Dan Haru's target score, Sarin quickly composed herself and grabbed the microphone again.
"Actually, this song is my signature track... but at some point, it became terrifying for me to sing."
Sarin knew the nickname she was widely known by, both in the music industry and among the public.
The Boss.
During her prime, she had been so proud of that title. To uphold it, she gave her all in every performance, delivering the best songs she could.
—Ah... even Sarin can't fight time, huh?
But she never imagined that very effort would become the walls trapping her.
[4K] XX0712 Sarin - To You @Neon Park Festival
—Wow, her live vocals are insane ㄷㄷ
—Unnie, please release an album already
—But it's a shame her old voice isn't coming through. Was her vocal condition not great?
└Back when she was the breadwinner, she overworked herself with too many events... T-T She should've rested after her 3rd album
—I still can't forget her performance of "To You" at that awards show four years ago. That day was truly legendary—the wind blowing outdoors, Sarin getting emotional, tearing up slightly during the final high note at 2:17, even the reactions from other female idols. A once-in-a-lifetime moment.
└Where can I watch this?
└Search "XX1230 Sarin To You"
└Here's the link: itube.com/watch?
The song that had crowned everyone who sang it as "The Boss" had, at some point, become a wall even she couldn't overcome.
"This song was already too famous among the public, and I had sung it too well... So honestly, every time I sang it, the pressure was especially intense. It's my song, yet I reached a point where even I couldn't sing it easily."
From the time she became pregnant until now, the excuse of childbirth and childcare had kept her off stage for the same reason. At some point, Sarin had lost confidence in singing on stage.
Because she could no longer reproduce the voice of her younger self from ten years ago. And after giving birth, with her body no longer the same, it became even harder.
"But... watching the stage you prepared today, I forgot for a moment that this was my song."
The soaring high notes, the intense emotional delivery, the flashy ad-libs and techniques.
Listening to "To You" with all the conditions she had considered formulaic for her performances shattered, it still sounded good. And it felt new.
She realized, "So this is the emotion these lyrics could carry."
"It felt like I was facing 'To You' again for the first time in so long. So I thought... ah, I want to try singing this part with this emotion, expressing it like this..."
"Wow, that's high praise, sunbaenim."
At Sarin's lavish review, Endway's Choi Yeon-woo clapped excitedly. The boys on stage still looked dazed, scratching the backs of their heads as they exchanged glances.
And at the center stood the leader of the Sad Ending team, Kang Ha-jin, thinking:
'Wow, I must've really hit the tear-jerker button.'
He didn't know exactly what he'd done, but he'd struck gold. He hadn't planned to do this well, so he might need to adjust his plans...
Remembering Kwon PD, who was probably monitoring this from somewhere in the studio, Ha-jin relaxed his shoulders.
'It's not bad to raise my value.'
Ha-jin nodded simply.
But the impact of their performance turned out to be far from simple.
[System Notification: 'Sarin' has gained enlightenment!]
[System Notification: A turning point has occurred due to 'Sarin's' enlightenment.]
[System Notification: 'Sarin's' timeline has been altered...]
'...Huh? What changed?'
Before he could even finish reading and processing the flood of system messages, Sarin smiled brightly and delivered her final remark.
"Thank you for letting me rediscover my song in a new light."
[System Notification: 'Sarin's' fixed event (disappearance after retirement) has been deleted.]
'Well, damn.'
It felt like... he'd just done something incredibly significant.
"Alright, we're pausing recording for dinner—!"
"Sad Ending team! Head to the waiting room! Gather here, please!"
"Mentors, you may return to the waiting room! I'll update you on call times!"
After listening to the remaining mentors' reviews (excluding Sarin's), we headed backstage.
"D-did we do well?"
"At least Sarin sunbaenim's review was really good..."
Usually, they'd have us gather to discuss reactions backstage, but this time, the staff immediately guided us to the waiting room.
As we walked down the long hallway back to the waiting room, our team members still looked shell-shocked. For someone who'd supposedly "destroyed the stage" and even "shattered her own timeline," their reactions were oddly underwhelming.
The reason was simple.
"But the other reviews were a bit disappointing, so I'm not sure about the results."
Because apart from Sarin, the other judges had given us lukewarm evaluations.
—The fresh approach was good. But for a competition like this, it felt a bit flat?
—Your energy! That energy alone was truly commendable.
—I wish we could've seen more vocal prowess... just my thoughts.
If asked whether it was harsh or positive, it was definitely the latter. But compared to Sarin crying and praising us, the other reviews didn't hit as hard.
Still, I smiled reassuringly and patted my teammates' shoulders.
"It's fine, guys."
"Huh?"
The broadcast would only show Sarin crying anyway.
"We did our best, so whatever the result, it's okay."
"Ahh. Right! We really gave it our all!"
"Yeah! Getting recognized by the original singer is enough!"
The two Feather-tier members, always quick to look on the bright side, nodded vigorously at my words.
Yeah, yeah. Maybe because their expectations were low to begin with, they seemed perfectly satisfied with how things turned out.
At the waiting room entrance, we each received a lunchbox and sat down. I'd noticed since my last life—this production company might not be great at everything, but they sure knew how to feed people well.
"Hyung, here's your chopsticks."
"Thanks, good kid."
"Your speech is seriously like our grandpa's?"
"Want some New Year's money?"
"I'll respect you, Grandpa."
After a quick back-and-forth with Seo Tae-hyun, everyone instinctively buried their faces in their lunchboxes. They'd skipped breakfast to avoid bloating, so it was all about eating first, thinking later.
'Well, thanks to my skill, I don't have to worry about bloating, so I ate heartily beforehand.'
I slowly opened a water bottle and revisited the system notifications that had popped up earlier.
[System Notification: 'Sarin' has gained enlightenment!]
[System Notification: A turning point has occurred due to 'Sarin's' enlightenment.]
[System Notification: 'Sarin's' timeline has been altered...]
[System Notification: 'Sarin's' fixed event (disappearance after retirement) has been deleted.]
Sarin had always stopped activities around this time and left the music industry.
In my first regression, where I got reset before turning twenty due to the college entrance exams, I'm not sure what happened... but in every other life, it was always the same. And now that's changed.
'And fixed events can be deleted too?'
I thought they were some unbreakable rule since they talked about them like they were absolute. But considering Park Jae-young's was also altered, maybe they're not completely immutable?
[System Notification: With the latest update, the (Fixed) Regressor's permissions have been updated.]
[System Notification: You can now access more information about human 'timelines.']
[System Notification: Would you like to enter the 'Unconscious Space' to view this information? (Entry condition: Unconscious sleep)]
'Looks like they brought back more than I thought.'
But it's not like I can just pass out and sleep when filming isn't even over yet.
I marked the last notification with a star and cleared the window.
[System Notification: T-this is really important information!]
'Yeah. I'm sure it is, whatever.'
It's an update patch—they must've packed in something important. But right now, what matters to me isn't some grand human epic but the fried chicken and stir-fried pork right in front of me.
[System Notification: Something really, really huge is happening right now... This is seriously a big deal...!]
Sorry, but the most "huge" thing to me right now is that instead of the usual trainee chicken mayo, we got a two-tier lunchbox for dinner.
[System Notification: ...The system feels an inexplicable sense of defeat and disappointment.]
'Systems always grow by whining like this.'
I brushed off the system's tantrums, now used to them.
'By the way, what was the assistant director thinking ordering such expensive lunchboxes? Do they have a huge budget? Well, back when I was a rookie, Kwon PD was serious about food too.'
Lost in thought, I mixed rice with stir-fried pork and kimchi when I accidentally locked eyes with Han Seong-woo passing by.
"Ugh, my appetite just—"
My appetite didn't drop—instead, I deliberately ignored his gaze and took a big bite of the mixed rice. Han Seong-woo made a face like he'd bitten sand and turned away.
Seeing this exchange, Seo Tae-hyun, sitting beside me, sighed softly.
"Grandpa, eat up."
"Kids these days have no respect for elders, tsk."
"Ugh, but I really can't stand that guy."
"Same here, grandson."
I stood up with my empty lunchbox, having polished it off without a single grain left. This habit of wolfing down food as fast as possible was one I just couldn't shake.
As I headed to the recycling bin, I spotted someone with bright hair sitting in front of it.
"...Lee Yu-geon?"
Yu-geon, with his bleached yellow hair swept back and three piercings in his ears, was slumped awkwardly in skin-tight leather pants. Just looking at that suffocating outfit made me wonder what he was doing, but he was neatly organizing the haphazardly stacked lunchboxes and utensils.
"What are you doing?"
"You'll get fined if you don't separate the trash properly."
"But why are you the one reorganizing it?"
"Habit. Just leave yours here too—I'll throw it away."
He even meticulously peeled off the stickers on the lunchbox lids. I'd noticed it before—this kid wasn't normal either. Since he's on the same team as Lee Do-ha, I should casually ask later what his deal is.
"Just leave it, I said?"
"Forget it, I'll help."
I couldn't just walk past seeing that uncomfortable leather-clad lump struggling. Might as well chat while cleaning up.
'And I'm curious how the special class's main dancer ended up with such heavy debuffs.'
I pulled up Yu-geon's stat window again.
[Lee Yu-geon (Affiliation: Miro)]
—Debuff: All stats reduced by 20% from base achievement rate.
Position: Dance
Vocals: 37% (Rap 71%) (-20)
Dance: 33% (-20)
Expression: 45% (-20)
Special: Copy & Paste (64%) (-20)
Appeal Points:
'There are still twelve ships left.'
—Responsibility, tenacity, strong immersion (Endurance, grit, performance execution (51%)
'How the hell did the special class get filled with stats like these?'
I wondered if he was similar to Lee Do-ha, but his stats were clearly lacking. Not that he seemed incompetent during the last performance... but something felt off.
'Speaking of which, this stat window is kinda inconvenient.'
It's nice to see potential, but I need more objective criteria now. I should check this during the next update...
"Ah, sorry."
...I was about to think that when an empty lunchbox fell onto my arm. The leftover kimchi juice and sauce splattered all over my clothes.
"Didn't see your arm there. Were you throwing out trash?"
I looked up at Han Seong-woo, who had just dumped his lunchbox right in front of someone actively organizing trash, and forced a smile.
"Hyung-nim, you really need to get your glasses checked. You keep missing things lately."
Ah, this damn bastard, seriously.