I Became a Musician Who Rose to Fame Through a Reverse Trend (1)

My previous life was bleak. If I had to sum it up in one line: a musician discarded after being used up and dying.

A lot of story is packed into that single line, but it perfectly captures my past life. Maybe God took pity on me and reincarnated me into a good family. The only flaw was the TS—the gender swap—but I didn't really mind. Growing up in an affluent environment, I chased the dream of music that I had reached for but broken ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠under in my past life.

I got full support for guitar and vocal training, and five years ago, I even debuted under an agency and released a single... but.

"Jiyeong, I'm sorry. I don't think our company can keep you anymore."

And just like that, I retired after leaving behind that one track.

"Jiyeong. I understand how you feel, but are you really going to give up everything you've done so far just because of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one failure?"

Mom tried to persuade me, but I gave up. Because even in my past life, I'd pursued music, and after reincarnating, I'd clung to it again—yet I'd come to realize for myself that it just wasn't meant to be.

"Sorry, Mom. I want to quit. Honestly, I don't even like music that much. I think I just kept at it because everyone around me praised me for it since I was little."

It was a lie. I wanted to succeed with music. I loved it. Every night before bed, I'd imagine myself singing my songs on stage.

Mom hugged me tight.

"Okay, my daughter. You can take your time finding what you really want to do."

My mom is an angel. I'm grateful just for her raising me alone without a husband. She's the hospital director, so she must be incredibly busy, but she never neglected me.

I'm a terrible daughter.

'Sorry, Mom. I'll just live comfortably off your money this time.'

My past life had been so grueling. This time, I'd live it up doing all the things I couldn't before, thanks to Mom's money.

And now, at 20 years old, Han Jiyeong is enjoying the life of a total NEET more than anyone.

Of course, I wasn't actually living like a total deadbeat. I do have a conscience. I worked weekends at the small cafe inside Mom's hospital.

And weekends weren't easy. During peak hours, I'd be grinding coffee beans all day. But more than that...

'Ugh, annoying. Why don't you just drink machine coffee instead of coming all the way inside the hospital to buy it?'

I grumbled inwardly while serving customers.

"Oh, hey, noona."

"Yeah. Hi."

This type of guy showed up several times a day. With his face completely covered by a mask, I had no idea what he saw to call me pretty.

"Noona, what are you doing after work? Wanna go see a movie with me?"

Zzap—! I glared at him like I wanted to kill him, and he shyly ducked his head.

Ah, that's not what I wanted. Annoying. I just wanted to clock out and play some games. I heard the new Blue Desert dropped today.

"Why would I watch a movie with you?"

"Ah, uh. Then maybe we could exchange in-game IDs...?"

I wanted to spew curses, but Mom's reputation was at stake. Hold it in. Just hold it.

"Sorry, that's not gonna happen. Here's your coffee—now hurry up and go. I need to close soon."

"Ah, yep."

After the last customer left, I rushed to start closing up. Compared to the hospital's size, the cafe was cozy. I could clean it solo in 30 minutes flat. Dumped ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the grounds, washed the machine, wiped down the tables roughly.

Click. Lights out, flipped the Closed sign. That sense of freedom hits different every time.

Before heading out, I ducked into the hospital bathroom and ripped off the stuffy mask pinching my nose. Swept back my sweat-dampened bangs, and the mirror stared back with a cold beauty.

No trace of my past life's pathetic looks. At 173cm with model proportions, it was God's blessing, sure—but right now, it was just an annoying option that attracted creeps asking for my number.

Gotta get home and game. Grabbed my bag and stepped out of the hospital.

The dusky evening air brushed my cheeks. My steps to the bus stop felt light.

Perfect timing—the bus pulled up as I arrived. Sat in the back and zoned out on the nightscape scrolling by outside.

Unlocked my smartphone, and the community feeds were flooded with strategy guides ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for the newly released Blue Desert.

Music? Stages? None of that hot, painful stuff in my life anymore. I'm just Han Jiyeong, a decent-looking NEET with a rich mom.

The bus engine's hum was a pleasant white noise. Log in as soon as I get home. All-nighter tonight.

I burst through the front door, flung my bag aside, and collapsed into my gaming chair. The hyped new game Blue Desert was, in a word, a disaster.

"What god game? This is straight trash."

Every time the flashy-graphics character pulled some dumb animation, my neck cramped up. Pretty on the outside, but controls felt like skating through mud. No contest.

I jumped straight to the platform's customer center and hit refund.

"Ah, my wasted time."

Moused over the familiar icon in the desktop corner.

"Might as well just play LeoRina."

Leaned deep into the chair back as the loading screen popped up.

One thing I'd realized since reincarnating into this world: it's like a parallel universe to my past life's Earth—similar, but subtly twisted. Brands and culture that boomed there had different names here, and history followed the same broad strokes but diverged in details.

At first, I'd searched desperately for traces of my past self. The songs I wrote, my stage name, the colleagues I'd made music with. But nothing. No sign of the musician I'd been.

In this world, I existed solely as 20-year-old Han Jiyeong.

"...Well, maybe that's for the best."

No baggage from that tiresome past life was a blessing, in a way. It meant this wasn't just an extension of that pathetic end—tosagu-paeng, tossed aside after use.

"Time for some gorge—!"

The session stretched hours past bedtime.

"Heh heh, how many wins in a row is this?!"

Adrenaline buzzed sweetly through me. Then, my phone vibrated on the desk.

Hospital director life, huh. Busy as ever. Sent a quick reply and stood up.

Grabbed a diet cup noodle from the kitchen and poured hot water.

'Still don't wanna gain weight, though.'

Back in my room with the steaming cup ramen, plopped down at the monitor. That's when it hit—the Scarf group chat with online buddies lit up with notifications.

Normally I'd scroll past, but their hype piqued my curiosity. Chopsticks in mouth, I clicked the shared Nertube link.

Black screen faded, video played. Ding-ring—familiar mellow guitar riff flowed from the speakers.

"......Huh?"

My swallow froze midway. Heart dropped with a thud. I knew this chord progression inside out.

The first song I'd thrown into the world in this life.

Chosen by the Nertube algorithm? Or some celeb mentioned it? Views already over a million, real-time comments scrolling nonstop.

"......No way."

Forgot the soggy noodles in my mouth, just stared blankly at the monitor.

"Now? After I quit everything, now you pull this?"

A hollow laugh escaped. I hadn't quit because I hated music. No matter how hard I tried, my true feelings never reached anyone, and that scared me into running away.

"It'll fizzle out soon enough."

The public is cold. They heat up like a flash in the pan, then chase the next thrill tomorrow like nothing happened. They ignored my song as boring five years ago, and now they hype it as my life's masterpiece. Pathetic, the world that ditched me now reaching out.

The Scarf group was still exploding. I just hearted the link indifferently.

Click. Powered off the PC. The monitor that blazed moments ago went black, reflecting my face.

"......Lost my appetite too."

The cup noodles had swelled up, soaking in broth. Picked at it with chopsticks, but it wouldn't go down.

Strange feeling. Dumped the ramen in the sink, rinsed it roughly. Collapsed into bed, pulled the covers over my head.

In the pitch-black room, faint car noises outside tricked my ear into hearing that guitar riff again.

'You decided to live easy off Mom's money, Jiyeong.'

I chanted it like a mantra. Being a freeloader I couldn't in my past life? Totally doable with a solid hospital director mom as backup.

Like that, I ignored the fact that the world was starting to seek me out and forced myself to sleep. Deep, quiet sleep.

3 AM. Even as everyone slept, the numbers didn't stop.

Like a massive wave crashing in, it shattered the concrete charts held by idols and big-agency stars.

And just before dawn.

It seemed to stall, then exploded again through commuters' earbuds on the morning commute.