Can't We Pretend It Never Happened?
The reversal of Bubble Shower begins with a single photograph. The image that successfully became a trending meme under the title “Voluntary vs. Forced” bears no resemblance to the usual ceremonial volunteer photos of people cleaning or serving meals. It is, instead, a picture of two people dancing on stage.
Exactly how or why they ended up performing together remains unknown. Not just to me, but to everyone who enthusiastically used that photo as a meme back then. Yet the image possessed a powerful visual impact that transcended any need for context. Jin Yeoreum, dressed in luxurious designer clothes completely unsuited for the stage, danced with an awkward, hunched posture that suggested she found the whole thing mortifying. In stark contrast, Yoon Haneul beside her wore only a simple hoodie and jeans, flashing a bright, refreshing smile as she danced with the energy of someone who had turned the orphanage floor into her personal concert venue.
To anyone looking, it was the perfect picture of one person enjoying herself and another who clearly did not want to be there. That extreme contrast created a cult-like resonance even without context. In fact, the lack of context only amplified it. Jin Yeoreum’s bewildered expression as the third-generation chaebol heiress who deserved to have stones thrown at her played a major role as well.
This was surely the extreme photograph the quest wanted. Of course, it couldn’t be identical to the original. I would need to change the situation so that either Han Gyeowool or Autumn took Yoon Haneul’s place on stage.
The moment the idea occurred to me, I sprang into action. First, I asked Yeoreum about her abilities.
“Miss Yeoreum. Can you dance?”
Yeoreum, who had been meticulously slicing onions alongside Han Gyeowool and two other volunteers, gracefully removed her rubber gloves before answering.
“Dance? What kind of dance are you referring to?”
“The kind commonly called idol choreography.”
My sudden request wasn’t entirely without context.
“I heard from President Cheon that you received training at SS Entertainment. So I thought it might be possible?”
Yeoreum lightly brushed down her arm with a troubled expression.
“That’s true, but my quality has deteriorated significantly since then. It’s been quite a while since I stopped doing that kind of idol dance, and I’ve even quit rhythmic gymnastics. If I danced now, I would probably look quite clumsy.”
That was actually perfect. It would create the necessary contrast with Han Gyeowool or Autumn.
“That’s fine. What I need is simply to create a certain atmosphere.”
“Atmosphere?”
“Yes. This is an extension of the photo shoot. I don’t want to package you merely as a volunteer. I want to show that you possess an irrepressible talent, and that even your imperfections have a charm that makes people want to love them.”
Even after my continued persuasion, Yeoreum remained hesitant.
“That makes it even more difficult right now. If someone as inadequate as me appears in such an important photo, I’ll only receive criticism.”
“I don’t believe that’s what people will see when they look at you, Miss Yeoreum. But even if such a photo emerges, we can simply discard it.”
…Of course, I had no intention of discarding it.
Han Gyeowool, who had been crying from the onion juices, suddenly stood up.
“Let’s do it, Yeoreum! I’ll help you!”
“Gyeowool…”
The middle-aged woman who had been slicing onions at a terrifying speed set down her knife and spoke.
“Yes, I’d like to see you dance after so long too. Why don’t you give it a try? I’ll set up the situation for you.”
“Even the director…”
…I thought she was just another volunteer, but she was the director.
“The children will definitely love seeing you dance after such a long time.”
“…Do you really think so?”
“I’m certain they will. All the children adore you.”
Jin Yeoreum lowered her head slightly.
“It seems like they’re more afraid of me than they like me. I haven’t been very gentle with them. Scolding and nagging is basically my daily routine.”
The director removed her rubber gloves, revealing her bare hands, and gently patted Han Gyeowool’s shoulder.
“All the children know that every word comes from a place of caring for them. So please ease your mind. Even if you truly can’t dance well, the children will love that version of you too.”
…
Jin Yeoreum, who had been staring at the pile of onions in the basin, finally made her decision. She looked directly at me and said,
“Team Leader Seon. I’ll do it.”
I wanted to ease the tension of someone who seemed to be carrying far too much resolve.
“There’s no need to feel so burdened. The image I have in mind is about the level of that university club’s performance when they came for the volunteer concert. It doesn’t need to be that high-level. We just need to capture an appropriate image.”
She shook her head at my words.
“There is no ‘appropriate’ for me. I always choose the best option.”
It was a statement filled with firm confidence, yet it didn’t come across as arrogance. Rather, it seemed charming. That statement, her expression, her entire philosophy—it all felt like the inherent dignity of Jin Yeoreum as a person. She was elegant.
“Um… Team Leader Seon. Can’t we pretend the stage never happened?”
Jin Yeoreum, standing before the stage, spoke to me with her eyes trembling violently. Not a trace remained of her previous confident and haughty demeanor.
…Please return my admiration.
“Didn’t you say you always choose the best option? Why are you trying to change your decision now?”
“The best option isn’t necessarily the right one. Every choice might have flaws.”
“What’s the flaw in this choice?”
“…The fact that I’m much more nervous than I expected?”
I looked at Jin Yeoreum, whose hands and legs were shaking like a newborn calf, and said,
“Would you like a herbal calming pill?”
“…If you have one, I would gratefully accept it.”
Jin Yeoreum clasped both hands together politely as if the pill were a lifeline and accepted it. Just as she was about to put the calming pill in her mouth, Han Gyeowool appeared and dragged her away.
“Time’s up. We have to go out now!”
Han Gyeowool, pulling Jin Yeoreum toward the stage, showed absolutely no signs of nervousness. Come to think of it, she hadn’t been nervous when she showed the stage to Cheon Jonghun either. Despite her usual timid appearance, she seemed surprisingly suited for the stage.
“Ah, wait, Gyeowool. My calming pill…”
In contrast, Jin Yeoreum seemed to have stage fright that stood in complete opposition to her usual confident and elegant demeanor.
“Yeoreum. That needs to be taken thirty minutes before it takes effect, so there’s no point in taking it now.”
Jin Yeoreum’s face filled with shock.
“…! Is that how it works? …Then why did I think it was working all this time?”
“So let’s just go out. The director has already finished all the introductions!”
“…Ah, I’m not mentally prepared yet.”
Dragged along by Han Gyeowool, the two stepped onto the stage beyond the cheap curtain. I also went outside and began filming.
“Hello! I’m Han Gyeowool!”
Perhaps the result of her frequent recent volunteer work and familiar faces, the children responded with enthusiastic cheers even to Han Gyeowool’s somewhat awkward introduction.
“And this pretty and kind sister is Yeoreum, whom you all know!”
An even louder cheer and applause followed. Someone even shouted “Yeoreum unnie, pick me!” creating an atmosphere reminiscent of a music show recording.
“…Hello.”
Jin Yeoreum greeted the children with extreme awkwardness.
“The song we’ll be showing you is probably one you all know. It’s a bit of an older idol song, but it’s really famous!”
Han Gyeowool adjusted the position and spacing of the still-standing Yeoreum and said,
“Then we’ll show it to you! It’s ‘The World For You’!”
Taking that as my cue, I played the song. And the two began to dance.
“The World For You” was the debut song of the legendary girl group Girls Sensation. It was considered one of the most legendary tracks among all idol songs and served as a textbook example for countless junior girl groups. There was probably not a single trainee dreaming of becoming a K-pop idol who hadn’t practiced this song.
As such a song, both Han Gyeowool and Jin Yeoreum knew the basic choreography. However, while Han Gyeowool performed the movements skillfully, Jin Yeoreum’s performance looked somewhat awkward and hesitant. The contrast became even more pronounced because Han Gyeowool, who possessed A-rank genius potential, had been constantly practicing without rest to raise her form. For me, who needed to capture such a photograph, this was ideal.
I photographed the two of them in succession. If I picked the moment when Yeoreum looked the most extremely incompetent, it would likely fulfill the quest’s demand for an extreme photograph.
As the song continued, Jin Yeoreum’s choreography gradually became more stable. Considering she hadn’t danced in a very long time, it was fair to evaluate it as remarkable talent. Yet I wasn’t deeply impressed.
The way Jin Yeoreum looked now was like a backup dancer who had stepped back, letting Han Gyeowool be the protagonist while simply executing the prescribed movements. Was this S-rank potential? To be honest, I was disappointed. Not that it mattered, since I had no intention of accepting her in the first place.
Then, during a crossing movement, instead of lip-syncing the lyrics, Han Gyeowool began saying something else.
“Yeoreum. I want to become idols with you.”
I hadn’t learned lip-reading, so I couldn’t make out the exact words, but I could tell she was saying something different.
“Let’s show them. That Team Leader Seon’s faith in us wasn’t misplaced.”
…
It was drowned out by the music and inaudible, but those words were clearly directed at Jin Yeoreum. I could roughly guess the content. If Han Gyeowool thought the same way I did, she had probably offered some advice about Jin Yeoreum’s dancing.
But I was skeptical. I didn’t think a single phrase could dramatically change a performance mid-stage.
My judgment proved to be mistaken. Jin Yeoreum transformed. Dramatically. Distinctively.
The movements that now appeared had more awkward minor mistakes than the backup dancer appearance she had shown moments before. Yet I would evaluate this changed version as far more attractive.
After the turn where Han Gyeowool and Yeoreum crossed paths, Jin Yeoreum began smiling brightly at the audience. The protagonist had changed.
…Come to think of it, she hadn’t been doing it before. Facial expressions. The stage came alive again. Jin Yeoreum’s dance made one forget that she wasn’t using the facial expressions that were considered the highlight of idol performances. And this was from me, who had watched and evaluated the dances of countless trainees.
It was truly…
“…Amazing.”
The bastard who had taken that photo to circulate under a title like “Voluntary vs. Forced” was undoubtedly a complete asshole. He must have deliberately selected and extracted only the worst moments from such an attractive Jin Yeoreum.
And in this round, I had to become that asshole. The scales in my heart shook violently.