3
## Chapter 3
Kang I-yul walked into the practice room.
At that moment, my feet felt as though they had been glued to the floor.
I had definitely seen it.
That limp hand lying helplessly on the cold asphalt. That pale figure with not a trace of color in it.
And yet, the Kang I-yul standing before my eyes was alive.
He was breathing, moving, and sweating.
“Thank God…….”
Those words slipped out of my mouth on their own.
Only then did the tension drain from my entire body.
He was alive.
Really alive.
I let out a sigh of relief and lowered my gaze.
‘Huh?’
His left arm was wrapped in a white cast.
My heart sank.
My relief at seeing him alive lasted only a moment before I couldn't take my eyes off that arm.
“I had a little accident on the way here. I just got some basic treatment and came over.”
The practice room began buzzing.
“What happened?”
“Are you okay?”
“Were you hurt badly?”
But I couldn't hear a thing.
‘An accident? He had an accident?’
Kang I-yul had always been completely free of injuries.
He'd even said it with a laugh on the radio.
“I've never had surgery before.”
……That was the guy I knew.
‘Something's wrong.’
None of Song In-hyuk's explanation about the survival show registered in my ears.
It was strange to dismiss this as a simple injury.
It had never happened in the past.
My mind began racing.
What had changed from the past?
There was only one thing.
‘……Danger Level.’
The words flashed through my mind.
‘No way—’
He was alive, but could he still be in danger?
[※System Information Unlocked!]
[S: Danger Level indicates the probability that an accident will occur.]
[S: Until the Danger Level reaches 0, an accident may occur at any time.]
The status window flashed before my eyes, as if confirming that was the answer.
A curse I'd never even uttered when I was dying escaped my mouth.
The Danger Level was a matter of probability.
As long as it wasn't zero, anything could happen at any time.
And the target was Kang I-yul.
---
Song In-hyuk, who had come from a major entertainment agency, had a habit of trying to imitate the big shots.
The colorful star-shaped blinds covering an entire wall of the practice room were one such example.
He'd installed them because he wanted to create an iconic practice room like the “cloud blinds” of a certain company.
‘His aesthetic sense really…….’
That was definitely the man responsible for giving Kang I-yul that Ppoppi-colored hair.
But I couldn't even notice those dazzling stars right now.
The moment the survival show announcement ended, group dance lessons had begun.
“All right, starting with eight counts—”
At the trainer's words, everyone moved simultaneously.
Except me.
Whenever I raised my hands, my feet got tangled.
Whenever I turned my head, I fell behind the beat.
My dancing was worse than a dancing robot.
‘This is driving me crazy.’
Among all the people reflected in the mirror, I was the only one completely out of sync.
‘This is pretty bad.’
Knowing the beat and making your body move to it were two completely different things.
“Again.”
I messed up again.
Cold sweat trickled down my back.
“Seong-woo, you're going to run into someone!”
“Seong-woo, look ahead!”
“Seong-woo, that's your right foot, not your left!”
My head naturally bowed.
“I'm sorry!”
I didn't even know how many times they'd called my name.
“Ha, seriously.”
“What does he think he's doing trying to become an idol with a body like that?”
I heard someone openly mocking me from behind.
“He's going to get fucking humiliated on the broadcast.”
Well, they weren't wrong.
‘If I'd been good at dancing from the start, I would've become an idol a long time ago.’
That was exactly why, before my regression, I'd never even considered becoming an idol despite receiving countless
business cards.
“Starting again from the beginning.”
Then—
“……Excuse me.”
I turned my head at the low voice.
It was Kang I-yul.
His expression wasn't very pleasant.
“Don't try to watch all the movements.”
His tone was colder than I'd expected.
“Yes, yes?”
Kang I-yul pointed behind him with his chin.
“Ha, just come stand behind me.”
I was momentarily stunned.
‘Did I-yul always talk like this?’
Before my regression, I-yul had always smiled, and his way of speaking had been gentle.
But now—
“You keep making us stop because of you.”
Ah.
“……I'm sorry.”
My head bowed instinctively.
‘That's our I-yul. He's always right.’
……Even when what he's saying is painful to hear.
His voice was downright terrifying.
But strangely—
‘Nice.’
……?
‘No, wait.’
My thoughts slammed on the brakes.
‘Get a grip, Yoo Seong-woo.’
But I'd never heard him use this tone before, not even on broadcasts or at fansigns.
Low.
Dry.
This was a genuinely rare glimpse of his real voice.
“Just watch my legs from behind.”
“Yes!”
“Forget about your upper body and get the steps down first.”
The music started again.
This time, I followed I-yul's advice and watched only his legs.
One, two—
“Oh.”
For the first time, I was on beat.
I-yul had probably only given me the advice because I was getting on his nerves, but this was truly a solution tailored
specifically to Yoo Seong-woo.
‘When it comes to observing Kang I-yul, I'm confident.’
Watching I-yul move once was more effective for me than listening to the trainer's instructions ten times.
“Seong-woo's finally keeping up. Then let's move on to the next part!”
“Yes!”
It wasn't perfect, but at least I wasn't a nuisance anymore.
“That’s how you do it.”
His tone was still dry, but it was the first compliment I'd received.
‘I have to write this in my diary tonight.’
“Thank you!”
“You don't have to use honorifics……”
I was so overwhelmed with emotion that I desperately nodded, trying to hide how ecstatic I was inside.
At that vigorous movement, Kang I-yul let out a small laugh.
And in that instant, this place became the place where I had first seen Kang I-yul.
Before my regression, there had been a time when I suddenly couldn't write music anymore.
No.
It wasn't simply that I couldn't write.
No matter how hard I tried to squeeze something out, my mind was completely empty.
It had happened just as my name was beginning to become known as a producer.
Requests came pouring in, but I couldn't produce even a single line of melody.
It was a horrible slump.
I'd even tried bungee jumping.
I'd drunk myself senseless.
I'd run through rainy streets without an umbrella.
I'd tried everything imaginable, but nothing changed.
Because it was the first thing in my life I'd ever desperately wanted, the loss that came without warning was even more
painful.
That day, too, I had been wandering the streets under the excuse of looking for inspiration.
And then, by chance, I saw an Impactor performance.
There were barely any spectators.
Nine out of ten people walked past without even looking.
It was a stage that naturally attracted that little attention.
I was no different.
‘What the hell is this chaotic song?’
Just as I was about to turn my head away, that blinding fluorescent hair caught my attention.
My first impression was simple.
A ping-pong ball.
‘Because his fluttering hair was exactly the color of a ping-pong ball.’
It was an outdoor stage beneath the scorching midsummer sun, with heat rising directly from the asphalt.
And yet, that kid danced with a smile.
Sweat streamed down his face.
His hair was completely soaked.
But every single movement was alive.
At that moment—
Tap.
Drip-drip—
Something burst inside my head.
A melody.
A new melody.
I pulled out my phone and frantically wrote down the notes.
My hands were trembling from the urgency.
For the first time in six months, I had written a song.
That day, I returned to my studio and finished a song.
I thought that was the end of the terrible slump.
……But it wasn't.
I instinctively knew.
If I wanted to write another song, I had to see his performance again.
From then on, I desperately searched for him.
It wasn't easy.
First, I had to find out the name of that ping-pong ball.
Then I had to track down the schedules of Impactor, a group that was already a failure.
I never intended to go to fansigns in the first place.
‘What would two guys even have to talk about?’
All I needed was to watch the stage.
Because then, another melody would come to me.
But ironically, the only schedule where I could see Kang I-yul perform was the fansign.
I'll never forget the crushing realization I felt when I somehow figured out how to apply and finally arrived at my
first fansign.
I even begged a staff member to let me just watch the stage without getting an autograph.
The staff member looked at me as though wondering what kind of crazy person I was.
While everyone else thought the fansign time was far too short, every minute felt like an eternity to me.
There were several times when I kept saying, “Oh, really?” before finally getting up and leaving.
But Kang I-yul was exactly the same offstage.
He constantly asked what he could do better and what had been lacking in that day's performance.
And he genuinely improved with every stage.
He was always kind, too.
On days when I'd stayed up all night working before coming to the fansign, he worried about my bloodshot eyes first.
Whenever I caught a cold, he noticed the change in my voice before anything else.
As those moments accumulated, somewhere along the way, Kang I-yul stopped being merely a source of inspiration.
He became someone I wanted to support.
“Seong-woo, next move!”
The voice ringing beside my ear snapped me back to reality.
“……Yes!”
Before my eyes was not the past.
It was Kang I-yul now.
His face as he caught his breath and stepped to the rhythm.
His hair soaked with sweat.
His focused eyes.
The moment I saw all of it, I realized.
‘So that's why.’
Why I'd become his fan.
It wasn't because he was successful.
It wasn't because he was flashy.
He was someone who always gave his best, no matter what situation he was in.
Someone who never gave up until the very end.
Someone who inspired me simply by watching him.
I clenched my teeth.
‘I will absolutely turn Impactor into a top-tier idol group.’
I'll take Go Jae-seong's damn XXXX place, and with the producing skills I'd spent all those years honing, I'd make sure
Impactor never became a failed group.
And whenever it was truly necessary, I'd make sure they only dyed that precious scalp with expensive dye that wouldn't
destroy it.
From that ping-pong-ball hair all the way to the final moment I never wanted to remember again, this time, it was my
turn to change Kang I-yul's life.
---
“Make sure you turn off the lights properly before you leave. I'm heading out.”
After Han Sang-yoon, Impactor's leader, was the last to leave, only two people remained in the practice room.
The third day since my regression.
Nothing had changed.
Kang I-yul stayed behind until the very end to practice.
And because Kang I-yul stayed, naturally, I couldn't leave either.
Kang I-yul didn't leave the mirror.
He repeated the same movements over and over, stubbornly working on the choreography that already looked perfect.
‘Was he always this intense……?’
I thought I knew everything.
How many times he'd been pushed away from the threshold of debut.
How desperately he wanted to debut because of that.
But seeing it with my own eyes was different.
Even after getting a cast on his arm, he was still doing this.
It took my breath away.
An injury that hadn't existed before.
A variable that could only put him at a disadvantage.
‘It's because of me.’
The guilt once again tightened around my throat.
I didn't know how much time had passed.
It had been well past one in the morning.
My eyelids grew heavy.
Kang I-yul's movements gradually blurred before my eyes.
Bang!
But it wasn't a problem with my vision.
“……!”
Kang I-yul had slammed into the wall.
His steps must have gotten tangled.
I immediately snapped awake.
I remembered the day Kang I-yul had fallen in the past.
The stage had been slippery because of torrential rain, and every time he fell, I'd wanted to run onto the stage
immediately.
Back then, I'd only been able to imagine doing it.
Now, I could actually do it.
But I couldn't move.
Because Kang I-yul was wearing an expression I'd never seen before.
His face was twisted with pain.
He grabbed at his hair in frustration.
“…….”
My eyes stung.
I hurriedly turned my head away.
The music started again.
Kang I-yul danced once more as though nothing had happened.
“……Ha.”
With that sigh, the emotions I'd been holding back finally collapsed.
Once the tears began falling, they wouldn't stop.
I didn't even have time to wipe them away.
In the end, I couldn't bear the fact that I was the one who had killed Kang I-yul.
I could endure no more, so I stood up.
I wanted to get out of this place immediately.
Click.
The moment I opened the door—
“Huh……?”
Our eyes met.
A staff member was standing there with her phone in hand.
She had been filming Kang I-yul.
Without opening the door or making a sound, she'd been waiting to capture an unfiltered moment.
For a brief moment, silence filled the air.
I hurriedly wiped the corners of my eyes.
But it was already too late.
Her camera was now pointed at me.
:::