So You're Joining Our Team Now?
Ardor had sent him a photo of a Min's Pie. Rembrary stared at the pastry in the picture, syrup running down its sides in glossy rivulets, and pondered long and hard just what, exactly, Ardor had meant by sending him this.
Was he saying he would make one for him when he returned? That he would buy him one? He surely wasn't bragging. If you do not know, ask. Rembrary lowered the photo and opened his message window.
But before he could finish typing the message to Ardor, the phone in his hand suddenly began buzzing, loud and insistent.
Don't tell me he'd sent another pie photo. Or corn, perhaps. But this time it was not a message — it was a call, and the caller was not Ardor but Shin Jo-woon.
"What is it?"
The moment Rembrary asked, flopping down across his bed, the answer came right back.
"You were singing 'Redrin, Redrin.' So you really did go there to sing?"
I ask what's the matter, and he babbles about something else. Rembrary dipped an anchovy in soybean paste and babbled right along with him.
"It is anchovy. As it happens, I am chewing you up at this very moment."
"The anchovy I sent? So you are taking good care of it."
Shin Jo-woon laughed and teased him, still apparently delighted over having sent anchovies after promising meat. But then he cut the laughter off short and asked, coldly:
"You think I'd fall for that?"
"I already fell for it once. I believe I have since come full circle."
"No, you haven't."
"Why did you call?"
Unable to understand why the man was carrying on like this by himself, Rembrary asked back, and Shin Jo-woon's voice turned stiff.
"I hear you're releasing an album."
True enough, but...
"How did you know?"
He hadn't told Shin Jo-woon yet, had he? How on earth—? The moment Rembrary asked, dumbfounded, Shin Jo-woon shot back sounding even more dumbfounded.
"You said it yourself. On your self-camera stream."
Rembrary remembered — after choosing his song, he had held up the self-camera and bragged that he would soon be releasing an album. So that was how.
This one truly has too much free time on his hands. He always does. Rembrary muttered under his breath.
"So you were watching that again......"
But the voice that came back was still rigid.
"Did you go to Redrin to put out an album? If that's the case, our side would be far better for you."
"I came to Redrin, and therefore I am releasing an album. You have the cause and effect reversed."
"Fine, Redrin, whatever. Then why are you working on it with LLL?"
"How do you know that, then? I never said such a thing on camera."
"Exactly. Wouldn't it have been better to tell me directly?"
Of course, given their friendship, he might want to hear it firsthand. But that was hardly grounds for anger, was it?
"Why are you angry? This is nothing for you to be angry about."
Rembrary asked sulkily, then popped three anchovies into his mouth at once and chewed. He still needed to press Ardor about that Min's Pie, and Shin Jo-woon kept being a nuisance. It was cumbersome.
Shin Jo-woon had reasoned that LLL held Woo Yeon-woo in its ranks, that Woo Yeon-woo belonged to Fallen Tears, and had therefore concluded that LLL is connected to Fallen Tears — and that was why he was angry. Rembrary had not followed a single step of that logic.
And because of it, Shin Jo-woon was a little hurt. To think Rembrary could be this indifferent, knowing full well how he felt about Fallen Tears.
"You don't know why I'm angry? You know exactly why."
"I do not know any such thing."
"What do you even know?"
When Shin Jo-woon finally asked, ice-cold, Rembrary tilted his head and closed the lid of the case where his trimmed anchovies were stored. What do I know, you ask?
It was just then, while Shin Jo-woon was waiting for Rembrary's answer.
"Um, sir?"
His secretary knocked hurriedly, slipped inside, and lowered his voice to a whisper.
"The camera in Rembrary's room is still on."
"It didn't turn off?"
"Are you telling me to get lost right now?"
"No, Pig, not you. What's still on?"
"The camera, sir. Your conversation with Rembrary is going out live as we speak, so I'd recommend saving private calls for later."
The moment the secretary finished, Rembrary — a sigh bleeding through the phone — began at last to answer Shin Jo-woon's earlier question.
"You are right. I know little of this world. I do not even know when you intend to tell Tae-ri about me. That is why I worry. If Tae-ri hears of what we are to each other......"
"We'll talk about it later."
"I wasn't finished."
"We'll talk later."
"This may be deceiving Tae-ri. Tae-ri too deserves the truth— Hello? Hello?"
For the next several days, Rembrary was busy. He had to write the lyrics for the song himself, and then practice the melody to fit them, which left him a mere twelve hours a day for sleep.
He managed even that because Daeju had offered to look after the album design, and because distribution and recording would be handled through a studio Jongwoo had introduced. Otherwise, he likely would have gotten no more than eleven hours.
That Rembrary could push the work forward this quickly and lightly, though, was thanks to his not being a real professional singer obliged to pour sweat into a project that staked his career on the line.
And at last came the day of the album recording. Rembrary met up with Jongwoo and headed for the studio, his heart swelling.
Meanwhile. Woo Yeon-woo, his nerves shriveled to nothing, paced anxiously around the dorm living room, dreading what kind of song Rembrary might have recorded.
Jongwoo had left after announcing openly to the members, "I'm going to help Rembrary with his album work," and so the thing had been gnawing at Yeon-woo since morning, past all bearing.
"Come on, it's just a novelty song for an event. What's your problem?"
"You barely put out albums these days anyway. It's all CFs and hunter company gigs with you. It's not like you're competing with us — what is there to worry about?"
A few members offered a word, but Yeon-woo could not settle. How much time had passed like that? Then Jongwoo called, saying he would pick up food on the way and asking if there was anything they wanted to eat. Food could wait — Yeon-woo hurriedly asked about the album first.
"How was the recording?"
A short laugh came through the line, and a moment later Jongwoo answered in a trembling voice.
"Yeah. It's going to sweep the nation. I'm certain."
What kind of earth-shattering song had the man recorded, that even Jongwoo's voice shook like that? By the time the call ended, Woo Yeon-woo's hands were trembling too. Fretting, he sent a text to his road manager, Oh Wan.
About thirty minutes later, Oh Wan came to find Woo Yeon-woo and handed him a USB drive. Yeon-woo held the small device in his palm and stared down at it with troubled eyes.
He had asked for it to be stolen in a fit of impulse, but now that it sat in his hand, it felt as though he had picked up something that must never be touched — a crawling, unpleasant feeling.
Oh Wan did not urge him further, even as Yeon-woo only rolled the USB around in his palm. The stealing had been his doing; from here, he wanted Woo Yeon-woo to commit the sin with his own hands.
Then Oh Wan said his throat was dry and stepped into the kitchen for a moment, and Yeon-woo returned to his room, sat down on the bed, and opened Rembrary's social media. But the moment that damned account loaded, all it showed him was unpleasant talk.
Most of the people writing those comments were only joking lightly, but Woo Yeon-woo — who, since reclaiming his original body, really had drifted quickly away from Shin Jo-woon and Jang Tae-ri — could not laugh it off. Their words were needles pricking, one by one, at the very weakness he was most sensitive about.
"!"
Stung, Yeon-woo hurried into his own account and, in a flurry, put up a post.
Yeon-woo's account had always had plenty of followers, so reactions poured in the moment the post went up.
Some of them flipped the mood entirely — Rembrary announces an album and suddenly you drop a song? Is this a counter? lol — but Yeon-woo could endure that much.
Once they hear the song, they won't be able to say that.
He couldn't post an entire track on social media, so he decided to clip a portion first. He turned on the computer and plugged in the USB.
He wanted Rembrary to check the song posted on his account and panic, or fly into a rage — any reaction at all would do. If that emotion was fury, so much the better.
He pressed play, and Rembrary's voice began to drift out of the speakers. He had half worried it might be rap, but it was, unexpectedly, a quiet and gentle song.
A piece in which a murmuring voice whispered a sincere love. The kind of song that anyone who heard it could not help but fall in love.
He really can sing, I'll give him that.
Yeon-woo narrowed his eyes, concentrating on the song, deliberating over which portion to clip and upload.
But midway through — right as Rembrary's voice was confessing its love, soft and sweet, from inside the speaker — BAM! came the sound of a piano key being slammed down whole, and Yeon-woo's eyes flew wide open in shock.
But that was nothing. The very moment he thought, did something get recorded wrong—
"Redriiin naaaame!"
At the wailing cry that seemed to burst straight through the speakers, Yeon-woo's eyes bulged. Then came another BAM!, followed by another wail of "Redriiin naaaame!" — and Yeon-woo scrambled to stab the stop button.
What? What is this?
Yeon-woo panted ragged breaths as he stared at the monitor. His heart was pounding wildly from the shock, and his hands shook.
What the hell did that bastard Rembrary record?
A demon had appeared behind him at some point, glass of water in hand, and muttered through gritted teeth.
"What do we do? The song's a lot more religious than I expected."
Yeon-woo asked, the veins standing out blue on his forehead.
"You call this 'a lot more' religious?"
The demon shrugged and pointed a finger at his phone.
"But are you still planning to post that song? People might mistake you for a Redrin believer too, you know."