Dominating the Trending Searches

The moment the music ended and he stepped down from the stage, a bespectacled young man came sprinting over, seized Rembrary's arm in a rough grip, and shouted.

"Hey, you little punk! What do you think you're doing?! Are you trying to get us all killed?!"

The young man's eyes had bulged so wide they were almost frightening. Rembrary, startled, watched him tear at his own hair with his free hand as he raged on.

"Are you crazy?! I said, are you CRAZY?! Since rising was a bust, you just decided to sink straight to the bottom?! You said you wanted to make a name for yourself—was this it?! Was making a name as the worst broadcast disaster in history the plan?! Where's the guy who was cheering me on earlier gone?!" His expression was positively terrifying now.

The bespectacled young man screamed until the veins stood out on his neck, but the music booming from the stage drowned out most of it.

"You lunatic, get over here!"

Perhaps he realized this too, because he grabbed Rembrary's arm and dragged him along.

Only after they were back in the waiting room did he finally let go, and then he exploded all over again.

"What are we going to do? I said, WHAT are we going to do?! Do you have any idea how many dozens—no, how many hundreds of kids are waiting for a shot at that stage?! You wanted to rise, didn't you? You wanted to be an idol, didn't you?! And then you go and wreck the stage... Do you have any idea how hard I fought to get us that one stage..."

The words collapsed on themselves. Choking on his fury, the young man beat at his own chest.

The other young men who had shared the stage took turns jeering as well.

"Did somebody pay you? Did someone tell you to tank the stage? To dominate the trending searches for them?"

"Ah, for god's sake. He's gone and nailed our coffins shut. Nailed them good."

"He snipped our last lifeline clean off."

"I'm losing my mind... If you wanna die, at least die alone. No—even dying alone would've been a whole spectacle."

Rembrary still had no idea what was going on. But even he could sense that the mood was exceedingly foul.

"There was no chair."

Rembrary calmly explained the situation to the bespectacled young man.

"Were you not the one who told me to sit in a chair? Yet there was no chair to be found."

"Enough with that freakin' tone of yours, I'm begging you! You're cracking jokes at a time like this?!"

But apparently what mattered to them was not the situation itself. The yellow-haired young man clicked his tongue and sneered in self-mockery.

"Nugget idols getting treated like this? That's just another Tuesday. You're supposed to know your place and glue yourself to a corner somewhere."

"'Nugget idol,' you say?"

Because they had called him an idol, Rembrary—who had assumed 'idol' was either the surname or given name of the body he now occupied—asked in bewilderment.

"So you're a nugget idol, not a famous one?"

The bespectacled young man retorted through gritted teeth, forcing his voice down.

Only then did Rembrary understand that 'idol' was neither a person's name nor a surname. Judging from all this talk of nugget and famous, it seemed to be a profession. Or something very like one.

In any case, one thing was certain: while their words somehow reached each other, Rembrary's world and this world were profoundly different.

And what good was the words reaching each other, when there were so many whose meanings he couldn't begin to grasp?

The moment he realized this, Rembrary quickly exercised his wits and offered an explanation.

"As that blond fellow mentioned earlier—listen. I struck my head this morning."

Rembrary pointed a finger at the side of his own head.

"It seems that is what caused the trouble. To be honest, I do not even know who any of you are."

Even he, the very man who had entered another's body, could scarcely believe the situation. If he told them the truth—that he was the High Priest Rembrary, and that mere hours ago he had been struggling to save the world—they would never believe it.

Better to improvise an excuse like this, he judged.

"Oh, for the love of—you're really a lost cause!"

But the bespectacled young man only beat his chest, believing not one word of it.

While they were carrying on, someone knocked on the waiting room door.

"You lot stay right here! Don't even think about going to the bathroom!"

Once the shouting young man stormed outside, the rest took turns laying into Rembrary again.

What in the world is going on here...

Rembrary, sulking, drifted over toward the door. He hadn't even pressed his ear against it, yet the shouting outside rang through loud and clear.

"Wild Animal will never, and I mean NEVER, as long as there is breath in my body, set foot on a Music Music stage again!"

"No, PD Woo, what are you saying? I'm so sorry. The kid really wasn't feeling well today, I swear. Our side will issue a proper statement to the press—"

"He was standing up there with his back ramrod straight, and he wasn't feeling well?"

"He was trying not to show it! Look how pale his face is right now. Our Yeon-woo is in the waiting room crying his eyes out from embarrassment this very moment."

"That's your business, not mine. I'm in no position to weigh anyone's circumstances—do you have any idea how much heat I'm about to take over this?! If he was sick, he should have SAID he was sick! Asked someone to bring him a chair!"

"I'm so sorry, oh, this is entirely my fault. I should have spoken up for him!"

Rembrary lowered his gaze, uncomfortable. He had no idea who was doing the shouting. But the voice doing the apologizing was, without question, the bespectacled young man's.

So the man who had been roaring and tearing into everyone in here was, the moment he stepped outside, floundering and defending Rembrary instead.

What on earth is going on...

Rembrary let out a sigh.

His thumb flicked rapidly up and down ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the dark phone screen. CEO Im scrolled through the display with blank, glazed eyes, then let out a long sigh and looked up at Jong-woo.

Jong-woo, manager of the idol group Wild Animal, had his head bowed so low it nearly touched his chest.

"Jong-woo."

CEO Im called to him in a limp, weary voice.

"Yes, sir."

"Did you see the trending searches?"

"...Yes, sir."

"In my whole life—"

"Yes, sir."

"—have I ever once seen one of my own artists dominate the trending charts like this?"

"...I'm so sorry, sir."

Jong-woo could barely lift his head as he forced out the answer.

"He claims he's lost his memory..."

"Jong-woo. Do you believe that?"

"...No, sir."

CEO Im clutched the back of his neck and leaned his head against the chair.

Wild Animal. Three years into their career, saddled with the nickname "Nuclear Submarine" for how fast and deep they'd sunk. Their agency, LLL Entertainment, had originally been an actors-only outfit.

Then the K-pop wave had swept the world, a handful of idol groups had rocketed to fame at its crest, and LLL—desperate to ride the current—had hastily launched an idol group of its own.

That group was Wild Animal.

But for all their ambitions of striking it big, a group thrown together without proper preparation never found its footing. They had chased down famous composers for genuinely good songs, flown in a foreign choreographer, drilled themselves through intricate group formations. A substantial chunk of the budget meant for their actors had been funneled into Wild Animal instead.

Yet in an ocean of idol groups pouring out by the dozen, Wild Animal never found a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pulse. The suggestion to just cut their losses came up again and again, but CEO Im had kept pouring love and money into them—this was the first group he'd ever launched. He couldn't give them a nice dorm or good meals, but he'd tried to give them good songs and good choreography.

If we just hold out, we'll rise—he had brainwashed himself into believing it. Their faces were all usable, he'd soothe the members; if music didn't work out, they could pivot to acting later, and since nobody knew their faces yet, they'd be spared the usual "why'd you become an idol just to act?" sniping.

And then... they went and caused a catastrophe of this magnitude.

CEO Im let out a long, low groan of agony. Woo Yeon-woo had been, on top of everything, the only member of Wild Animal with any name recognition at all. It was a crumb of recognition, sure—but in a nugget idol group, even a crumb mattered.

"Look at this. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠No, never mind. Come here and see for yourself."

CEO Im clicked on the most-viewed article in the entertainment news, then pulled up the best comments to show him.

"There. Read them top to bottom, sorted by upvotes."

The lower CEO Im's finger swiped the screen, the lower Jong-woo's head sank.

"Then again, what's the point of telling you, huh."

CEO Im sighed and slammed the phone down on the desk with an order.

"Bring me Woo Yeon-woo."

Leaving the waiting room, they boarded a strange carriage and traveled to yet another new building. This one was somewhat smaller than the first, and the moment the bespectacled young man stepped inside, he left Rembrary and the other young men standing there and hurried off somewhere.

The other young men seemed to know the place, dispersing with considerably more ease than before. Rembrary alone stood rooted to the spot.

A long while passed like that. Then the bespectacled young man came back for him, startled to find him there.

"You've just been standing here this whole time?"

When Rembrary only stared blankly at him, the man tilted his head, then frowned and said, "Just come with me for now."

He led the way to a certain room. Inside stood a large desk, and before it sat a nameplate reading Im Seon-il, CEO. Behind the desk sat a man with a haggard face, who sighed at the sight of Rembrary and called out, "Woo Yeon-woo."

The instant Rembrary confirmed the nameplate on the desk reading CEO, he understood at once that this man outranked the bespectacled young man. Moreover, unlike the other young men, who had been in a complete lather, this man seemed relatively composed.

Having made his judgment, Rembrary attempted conversation, nursing a faint hope.

"Im Seon-il. There is something I must say."

But the moment the words left Rembrary's mouth, the bespectacled young man let out a wail and clamped a hand over the back of Rembrary's head.

"I'm so sorry, sir! Hey, why are you talking down to him?! Are you insane?!"

The bespectacled young man's face was on the verge of fainting. Bowing and scraping would hardly have been enough as it was—and he had to go and use informal speech.

The man's heart had nearly given out on the spot.

But instead of flying into a rage, the CEO's eyes went wide and he raised a hand.

"Just a moment."

The bespectacled young man withdrew his hand, and Rembrary's head, which had been forced down, rose again. The man called CEO Im was staring at Rembrary with a grave expression. Their eyes met; he raised his eyebrows, and a moment later his brow furrowed.

Then, without warning, he leapt from his desk and dashed to the bookshelf. He pulled out an album, and from it extracted a single small photograph.

Holding it out to Rembrary, CEO Im asked,

"Do you know who this person is?"

Within the photograph was a portrait of astonishing realism.

"I do not. Why do you ask?"

At Rembrary's answer, CEO Im clicked his tongue.

"So he really has lost his memory."

The bespectacled young man let out an aigoo of despair in sympathy. Rembrary, wondering what was the matter with the pair of them, could only stare—until CEO Im spoke in a hollow voice.

"It's a photograph of your parents."