The Musical (1)
"Haa... It's not showing up no matter what."
Late at night, I lay in bed, staring at my phone for far too long. Exhaustion and a headache were crashing over me. I set the phone aside for a moment.
Two days ago, during morning class, I'd come up with the perfect idea to reconcile with Kim Seo-yeon. I figured it'd go off without a hitch.
Who knew it'd get stuck at ticket reservations.
Hitting this completely unforeseen roadblock was more than frustrating.
From Monday to today, Wednesday, I'd checked the reservation site whenever I had a spare moment, but no seats were available. Even when tickets popped up, trying to book them just brought up a popup saying 'Seat already selected.'
What do I do...
Honestly, I'd underestimated musical ticketing a bit. It wasn't some famous overseas licensed show—just a domestic original musical. Sure, it had the title of a blockbuster, but as a premiere run, I thought it'd be about as tough as booking popular movie tickets.
But actually trying to book it? Forget movies; it made famous singer concerts look easy.
How the hell did Kang Min-jun score these in the original story?
In the original novel, Kang Min-jun got the tickets and took Kim Seo-yeon to the show. It was a key event that pulled at her wavering heart, teetering on the line between platonic guy friend and something more.
Whatever. My lifeline comes first.
Flipping it around, there was no better event to instantly mend my botched relationship with her.
Since I'd possessed this body, we'd already crossed a river the original story couldn't. In this spin-off world, snatching Kang Min-jun's heroine event wouldn't cause any real issues.
The world won't end just because it deviates from the original.
At least possessing a romcom set in the modern world was a stroke of luck—not some grim dark fantasy.
"No helping it, huh..."
From the looks of things, normal channels weren't getting me anywhere. All that was left were slightly shady methods.
I picked up my phone again and searched for "ticket transfers."
Sites popped up immediately. One had the tickets I'd been hunting, listed at a premium price.
Should I just grab these?
"Kinda iffy though..."
The price was a bit steep but doable. The problem was the pile of listings staring back at me, dredging up old memories of getting scammed on a secondhand site.
Back then, I was after a hot Japanese N-company game console. Using money I'd scraped together helping my parents, I finally found a seller for a mail-order deal. But the small box that arrived? Just a single red brick inside.
I got burned a few more times like that and swore off secondhand deals entirely.
If this were just for me, I'd roll the dice—fail and chalk it up to being an idiot. But this was tied to my lifeline. I couldn't afford a stupid scam.
In the end, I decided to SOS someone who knew this stuff cold: my three-years-older sister, still mooching off our parents in her room. She was an expert at snagging tickets for notoriously tough idol concerts and massive festivals.
The sweet offer threw me for a loop. I wasn't short on cash, but more was always better, so I almost typed yes on reflex. But I held back—something more important than pocket money right now.
Positive response. I fired off the show details right away.
Less than 30 minutes later, a reply pinged back. Expert speed.
"Agh."
I closed the chat at her nonsense.
Now, just had to casually bring up going to the musical together. Best in person, but...
She's been dodging me lately...
She'd bolt before I even mentioned it. KakaoTalk it was, though I hesitated.
The reason? Simple.
No replies despite multiple checks. To an outsider, it looked stalkerish. At least she was reading them consistently.
What could I do? Had to try.
"Tricky."
I typed and deleted over and over. Easier said aloud, but writing felt harder. After 10+ minutes, I hit send.
I attached the ticket image too.
Read immediately.
The '1' vanished right away. Heart pounding, I waited, suppressing tension. Lips dry, time dragging despite trying to ignore it—life on the line made it impossible.
After an eternity, the reply came. A hint of coolness, but the massive weight lifted from my chest.
Her mood wasn't fully thawed, but the biggest hurdle was cleared.
She checked it, chat over.
"Phew..."
Tension melted; I flopped onto the bed.
"Gotta cut back on the booze for real."
Was my wrecked body killing my self-control? Regret flooded in over that day's mess.
I'd endured all sorts of crap at a family-like small firm, thought I'd mastered keeping cool. But one moment of irritation blew it up.
Time to reflect.
I clenched my fists, steeling myself. Normal college life was fun, but my life hung in the balance. No slacking—keep the tension taut.
Prep thoroughly, no slip-ups. Use this to fix things with her. For best effort, I grabbed my phone again.
"..."
Better not go home for a while.
"Hmm..."
Saturday afternoon, clear blue autumn skies visible. Sunny weekend packed Hongdae with crowds, suffocating even to look at. I wanted to bolt home but had a purpose, so I pushed through.
Why brave golden-weekend Hongdae crowds? Shopping for tomorrow's musical with Kim Seo-yeon.
Internet said no strict dress code, but I couldn't show up in my gray hoodie. She'd doll up; I needed minimum effort.
"This looks good."
Near Hongdae main street, in a bustling big clothing store. Grabbed a few decent pieces and headed to the fitting room. Favorite: beige cardigan screaming fall, black inner, jeans combo.
Mirrored check—no awkwardness, looked solid.
"This it is."
After 30 minutes of agony, heading to checkout, dropping the rest...
"Huh. Teacher?"
Familiar voice from behind.
"Choi Da-eun?"
"Teacher!"
She bounced excitedly at the chance encounter. Meeting my tutoring student here? Not impossible since she wasn't out playing truant, but weird outside the study room.
"Oh, teacher. This is my BFF, Jo Yu-jin. Yujin, this is my tutor. He's a college student now."
"Ah, hi."
"Hi."
Awkward nod from Da-eun's friend; I matched it.
"Teacher shopping for clothes too?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Gonna buy that?"
"Yeah."
"Hmm..."
Da-eun eyed the clothes in my hand and hummed.
"You super busy right now?"
"Huh? Nah, not really..."
"Teacher, sorry, but if it's okay, could you model those for us?"
"Huh?"
Sudden request. Annoying, but her dubious look at the outfit nagged. No plans after, time to spare—might as well get a second opinion.
"Lemme try 'em on."
I nodded, changed, and stepped out. Her verdict: blunt.
"Knew it—doesn't suit you. Kills your skin tone, and the fit's all wrong."
"Really? Looked fine to me..."
"Yujin, what do you think?"
"Uh..."
Friend hemmed and hawed, clearly peeking at me. I told her to be honest.
"Not, like, bad... but kinda awkward."
Milder than Da-eun's. Considering our awkward rapport, probably agreed deep down.
Vote: 1-2 against. From fashion-sensitive high school girls. Regrettable, but facts were facts.
"If you two say so... back to square one."
Smacking lips, returned the clothes.
Now what? Ask sis?
Hate asking sis.
Two days of nonstop teasing after the tickets—barely calmed her. Asking for outfit help? Disaster incoming.
"Teacher, want me to pick for you?"
"You? Aren't you here with your friend?"
"It's fine. We were just window-shopping anyway. Way more fun helping teacher. Right, Yujin?"
"Uh, yeah. Sure."
Da-eun smiled softly at her friend, who nodded with a subtle expression.
Doesn't seem fine...
Her face bugged me, but my nose was to the grindstone.
I nodded. "Cool. Help's appreciated."
"Hehe. This'll be fun."
"Doesn't sound fun..."
Ignoring her quiet mutter, Da-eun grabbed her friend's hand and dashed to the racks.
"Teacher, hurry!"
Glancing back, urging me. Seeing her like that made me chuckle. In class, I taught; now roles reversed.
Even in my past life at work, I was always the learner.
"...Not bad."
A bit unfamiliar, but the feeling wasn't half bad.
Choi Da-eun Focused on Studying (Image)
