Chapter 10

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Translator: 8uhl

Chapter: 10

Chapter Title: Midnight Serenade

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A week had already passed since I signed with Pida Entertainment.

I closed my eyes slightly and listened to the song I'd just recorded. It was smooth without a single rough edge—a pretty decent tune.

At this level, no one could claim I couldn't sing.

'This isn't it.'

But it didn't sit right with me. And it wasn't just because it was my own singing clouding my judgment.

The next track started playing right away. This was the one I'd recorded while the effects of Ho, Not Bad were still active.

'Is this really me?'

Compared to that, of course it fell short. The difference only grew clearer with every listen. It was almost unbelievable that I'd sung it.

Of course, I didn't think I could never pull it off again. It felt similar to those rare days when my condition was just perfect.

The problem was I couldn't sing like that consistently.

It was frustrating. It felt like I could nail it, like I should be able to every time—so why couldn't I?

'That damn System...'

No matter how I looked at it, I'd taken the bait. And it was the sweetest kind, impossible to resist.

Ho, Not Bad let me perform at my absolute maximum potential regardless of condition. It was too tempting to ignore.

Thanks to asking Kim Han-soo, Lee Jae-ha, and a few trainees I'd gotten close to—including the trainers—to hit like for me, my coins had piled up nicely.

But over those past few days, I'd come to a harsh realization.

'Likes are too scarce.'

At this rate, I wouldn't last until debut.

"Hoo... This is driving me insane."

Idol life was great, but first I needed to secure coins. Without them, I'd drop dead before debut even happened.

Since my coins weren't growing as fast as I'd hoped, I kept thinking back to that time I ran into Lee Jae-yoon and snapped a photo.

That had been a real windfall. Salt farm levels, even.

A few more gigs like that, and I'd be set for a while. But Flame was too busy for encounters, and it wasn't me—they were the ones with no time.

'Anyone from Pida...'

Sure, there were people. Park Min-ha, riding high on her rising stock, or veteran child actors like Kim Hye-yul with massive name recognition—all under Pida.

But bumping into them at the company was one thing. Posing for a photo together was another, and posting it on Goodstar? A whole different ballgame.

"Sigh..."

In this situation, buying Ho, Not Bad was basically trading life for it.

'Time to practice.'

It boosted my current abilities, so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with enough practice, I could hit that level without items.

With that in mind, I replayed the recording. Over and over.

Analyzing it for so long, I started thinking maybe I could match it now.

I stopped the playback and fired up the MR track. Soon, my voice layered over it.

"Tsk..."

But I couldn't even finish the first verse before stopping. No matter how many retakes, same result.

'Why won't it work?'

It felt so close, yet out of reach—driving me mad. Now I was even doubting if that really was me singing.

Maximizing my current abilities? Then why? Shouldn't it land close at least once in ten tries?

'...Should I use an item?'

Eventually, that's where my thoughts led. One more taste of that feeling, and I might reach it.

The item window popped up right away, as if on cue.

'Damn System.'

Honestly, shouldn't it give me one back out of basic decency? It used it without my permission.

No response, as always.

Anyway, that wasn't the point now.

Even if I used one, two would be left.

'Kinda wasteful, but who knows when I'll need it next...'

Better to use it when I'm on the verge, maybe.

Once I truly reached that level naturally, I wouldn't need to spend coins anymore.

'...Nah.'

I tried again and again, but no improvement.

In the end, to grasp even a clue for real growth, I decided to use the item.

Yeah, this was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠an investment. Think of it that way.

Improving for real would pay off big time.

"No choice... Use one Ho, Not Bad."

❤

Leaving behind the broadcasting station's dazzling nightscape—like a city that never sleeps—a van pulled out of the parking lot.

"Good work today."

Park Min-ha's manager from Pida Entertainment glanced at her in the rearview mirror with words of encouragement.

"You've had the harder day, oppa."

Park Min-ha replied with a soft smile. Even that small gesture seemed to light up the car.

"All I do is wait around."

"Waiting around doing nothing is tougher. Thanks, always."

Despite her skyrocketing popularity, she still spoke with such consistent grace and beauty.

With so many managers around suffering due to their celebs, he was endlessly grateful for her.

"Home?"

"No, to the company."

The van sped through the dark streets before pulling up in front of Pida Entertainment.

Park Min-ha threw open the door and stepped out.

"Thanks for the ride. See you tomorrow, oppa. Sleep well."

She waved until the van departed, then looked up at the building before her.

Like the station, lights still dotted the structure here and there.

That was comforting. It meant she wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep.

She knew it was selfish toward the staff pulling late nights, but the relief of not being alone in the dark was unavoidable.

'Should've grabbed coffee...'

Pre-debut, she'd kill time at late-night cafes on sleepless nights, but now that her face was known, that wasn't an option. Company was her only spot.

Park Min-ha headed quietly to the basement. Plan was to analyze scripts in the practice room as usual, head home at dawn, and crash.

"Hm?"

But unlike usual, the basement fluorescents blazed brightly. As if someone was there.

'What's this?'

She'd come straight after her radio slot that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wrapped at 2 a.m.—no way trainees were still around.

Curious, she scanned the row of practice rooms in the hall.

That's when it hit.

"......To you... I say......"

Singing drifted from somewhere.

'Who's singing at this hour?'

Park Min-ha followed the voice deeper in.

It leaked from the farthest practice room.

The closer she got, the clearer it became.

Melody seeped through the ajar door.

Without thinking, she tiptoed closer, steps hushed.

The voice drew her in. Each note carried clear emotion, piercing straight to the ear.

Finally at the door, she peeked through the slight opening. The voice bloomed richer.

"......It's not your fault, don't worry about it."

The calm, emotive song enveloped her.

For some reason, listeners' texts from her radio show flashed in her mind.

Messages saying her gentle voice comforted them. Thanks for helping them sleep after a long day—grateful, envious words.

Now, she got it.

'Who is it?'

Did the company have someone who sang this well?

Unable to resist curiosity, she leaned in through the gap.

And then.

"Good night, my dear. Tonight, I'll hold you close."

The song ended.

'I want to hear more...'

One song, and she was already a fan of that voice.

As Park Min-ha lingered in regret and afterglow—

"Huh? Who are you?"

The singer must've noticed her. He turned toward the door. Their eyes met.

A face she'd never seen. She knew most trainees by sight, even if not close.

Flustered, she blurted out her name without thinking.

"P-Park Min-ha?"

"......Pardon?"

"Ah, uh... I mean, no! Yes, Park Min-ha, but that's..."

Realizing her idiotic response, her pale cheeks flushed bright red.

He looked startled too. She quickly added,

"S-Sorry! I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, the door was open..."

Anyway, singing in a company practice room at this hour? Had to be a trainee.

Calming herself, she apologized again.

"Um... Really sorry. I interrupted your practice."

The trainee—Do-jun—had frozen in surprise at someone showing up in the dead of night, but he snapped to and waved it off frantically.

"Ah! No, not at all! Senior."

"Se-Senior? Oh, right. I am the senior here."

"I loved Forest City you were in last time."

"Haha, you watched that? Thanks."

Forest City was her drama from 10 months ago.

Guessing he brought it up to ease things, Min-ha finally relaxed around Do-jun.

"Of course! It had the highest ratings last year. Weird not to watch."

Do-jun grinned brightly, and Min-ha ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gave an awkward smile back.

His skin was strikingly pale—even for a guy—catching the eye. And those dark eyes contrasting it held her gaze captive.

"What brings you to the company this late? Ah, prying like that is rude, right?"

"Huh? Oh, no big deal. Just passing by..."

Her eyes hit his sharp jawline, snapping her back. She recalled the song from moments ago.

Cool and composed, yet brimming with emotion.

Somehow, she wanted to hear it again.

"Um..."

"Yes?"

"If it's okay..."

But the words stuck.

Would he think her weird? Nah, her status was clear; he wouldn't overthink.

Thoughts ping-ponged.

But the desire to hear that song again overpowered the embarrassment.

It was worth it.

"Mind if I listen while you practice?"

Silence hung briefly. Heat rushed to her face from awkwardness. Before he could reply, she waved her white hands frantically.

"Yeah, no, of course not. Sorry for interrupting."

She moved to shut the door quick—

"No! Of course you can listen!"

"Really?"

He was okay with her listening to practice? Thrilled, her door-closing motion halted.

Sweet guy.

Before he could change his mind, Min-ha slipped inside.

"Hehe. Then I'll come in."

Her sulky expression vanished, replaced by a blooming smile on her lips.