Marriage? Who?
You have been selected as an appropriate target. Possibility Memory is now being used.
Gyeoul’s consciousness faded the moment she saw the message, as if it were pulling her inside.
“Stop doing pointless things and just quietly follow the agency’s orders. Keep in mind that every single action you take right now could seriously damage SS’s image.”
“...Yes. I’ll stay as quiet as possible.”
“Though honestly, what can I even say to a kid who couldn’t even manage that and turned things into this mess…? Sigh. What sin did I commit to end up doing this kind of cleanup?”
“I’m sorry. I won’t ever—”
Beep. Beep.
After receiving the call from Alcest’s senior manager, Gyeoul poured every ounce of sincerity she possessed into her apology. But her feelings didn’t seem to reach him; he remained irritable with her throughout the entire conversation. The fact that she had made someone so uncomfortable filled her with a sadness so deep it ached.
Even after she knew the call had ended, she apologized once more into the empty air.
“I’m truly sorry…”
Gyeoul felt the rising tide of guilt dragging her down into a swamp of emotion. The hallway floor leading to the dorm seemed to cling to her like that very swamp, trying to swallow her whole. With heavy, dragging steps, she made her way to the private dorm the agency had secretly prepared for her, separate from the rest of Alcest.
—Does it feel good selling your body, you whore?—
It was a vicious curse. The moment Gyeoul saw the blood-red letters scrawled across her door, her feet froze.
This was supposed to be a new, secret dorm provided by the company, yet even this location had apparently been leaked to Chanyeong’s sasaeng fans. The door lock to what should have been her safe haven felt strangely alien today as she opened it and stepped inside.
The scandal between her and Shade’s visual member Chanyeong—which she had believed would never grow beyond a short-lived rumor—had ballooned. It had escalated to the point where it now posed a genuine threat to her safety. True to their reputation for possessing the most toxic fandom among current male idol groups, the harassment from Shade’s fans was vicious and cruel. It was far too much for Gyeoul to endure alone.
The situation had spiraled this far largely because of the post Chanyeong had left hinting at his feelings, but the way the other Alcest members ostracized her and fueled negative public opinion played a significant role as well.
SS had not simply stood by. They had negotiated with Chanyeong’s agency to take the post down, made him issue an explanatory statement, and temporarily banned the Alcest members from using social media. Yet none of it had been enough to put out the flames. Once a fire started, removing the initial spark only caused it to consume new kindling and spread further.
Walking as unsteadily as if she herself might crumble into ash at any moment, Gyeoul slipped off only her coat and socks before collapsing onto the bed with her beloved hugging pillow.
In this small space, no one called her a whore. No one jabbed at her heart by pointing out her faults. No one muttered curses in a low, annoyed voice. It could almost be called a small measure of peace.
Yet her heart found no comfort.
She was tired. Sad. In pain. Scared.
“...Mr. Taeyang.”
She was lonely.
Gyeoul pulled out the smartphone from her pocket, hesitating over and over as she typed and deleted his number. Seon Taeyang’s contact hovered on the screen, but she couldn’t bring herself to press it. She didn’t want to be a burden to him, of all people.
Instead of calling him, she dialed her grandfather’s number. The phone rang only a few times before he picked up.
“Grandfather?”
“Ah, is that my Gyeoul?”
“...Yes, it’s Han Gyeoul. Is the workshop doing okay?”
“Workshop? What workshop.”
Buried beneath the guilt that gnawed at her like slow erosion, she barely managed to speak.
“I heard that Shade’s fans have been doing a lot of awful things because of me. I’m… I’m so sorry about it…”
“Child. Don’t apologize.”
His voice was so gentle she could feel the warmth even through the phone.
“I don’t care what those worthless bitches do. As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.”
“...Grandfather.”
There had been a time when Gyeoul had genuinely feared and avoided him. She had believed he hated her, that he saw her as nothing more than an annoying burden. But she no longer thought that way.
They had shared many conversations. He told her old stories, tales of his daily life as a craftsman, how he had seen her on television, stories about songs, and memories of her mother. He wasn’t merely a distant, stern figure. He wasn’t someone who hated her.
He might have been gruff in her previous life. He might have kept his distance. But in the end, he was only human. And he was her family.
Through their continued talks, she had come to understand that he cherished her. The change had begun on the day Seon Taeyang helped bridge the gap between them.
“Is that friend of yours doing well?”
“That friend?”
“Seon Taeyang, of course. He’s so busy he can’t even spare a single phone call. What a rude fellow.”
At her grandfather’s crooked complaint, she let out a small laugh.
“He does seem incredibly busy. The last time we spoke, he said he’d only managed six hours of sleep in three days and sounded exhausted.”
“See? That’s exactly why I told you two to join the same company. Young people these days never listen to their elders. If only Seon Taeyang were by your side right now—wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
Gyeoul imagined him standing beside her. It would feel so incredibly reassuring.
“It really would. …But Mr. Taeyang has his own life to live. It would be wrong of me to hope he only looks after me. That kind of wish is far too much to ask.”
Her grandfather let out a long sigh.
“This is why I might just die before I get to hear news of my granddaughter’s marriage.”
“...Marriage? Who?”
“Who else? You and that Seon Taeyang boy, of course.”
“...What? No, someone like me could never—”
“Hey, you silly child. What exactly do you think you’re lacking? If I have to, I’ll show him the land deed. What man could resist a pretty, kind, and wealthy young woman?”
“...Still.”
Her grandfather burst into hearty laughter.
“I approve. Just remember that.”
For the first time in what felt like ages, Gyeoul smiled with pure, unclouded joy.
“Yes. I’ll remember.”
It was the last phone call she would ever have with her grandfather.
Snow fell heavily from the sky. The soft, accumulating blanket made the world appear sacred and hushed.
But this place was anything but.
“This is for the citizens’ right to know!”
“I told you, I’ll arrange a separate interview later! This is a funeral right now!”
“You whore! This is your punishment!”
“Damn sasaeng bastards. We put up no-entry signs for non-authorized personnel—where the hell did they crawl out from this time? Does SS look that easy to mess with? Hey! Go chase them out right now!”
A space meant to honor a person’s soul. A funeral hall that should have demanded more solemnity and respect than anywhere else had instead become a cacophony of noise.
Bustle. Chaos. Desire. Hatred. Exhaustion.
This place was not for Gyeoul’s deceased grandfather.
“...”
And it was not for Gyeoul, either.
“...Haa, haa.”
Everyone. Every last one of them was laughing at her.
People were knives. People were guns. People were prisons.
People were hell itself.
Gyeoul crouched in a corner, head bowed, and screamed without making a sound.
I want to die.
“Gyeoul!”
She lifted her head toward the unforgettable voice.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”
It was Seon Taeyang.
“...Mr. Taeyang.”
Whenever her life felt too heavy to bear. Whenever people became terrifying and the world turned so cold that the word “end” began to feel like a sweet temptation—
The man named Seon Taeyang would appear before her.
“It must have been so hard. It’s okay now. I’ll help you.”
He was always like this.
“Mr. Taeyang, I’m fine. I can be alone. You don’t have to make time for me.”
“No. You need someone by your side right now. So I’ll stay right here with you.”
Gyeoul fought back the flood of emotion and tears, forcing herself to speak as calmly as she could.
“You’re busy, Mr. Taeyang. Extremely busy. I don’t want to take any of your time.”
Seon Taeyang smiled more warmly than ever.
“I’m not busy at all. I’m so free it’s actually boring.”
“But you have so much company work, don’t you?”
“If the company falls apart just because one person steps away, then that company is seriously—”
His phone rang mid-sentence.
“Ah, sorry. Just a moment.”
He answered, said only “I’m sorry, I can’t work right now,” and hung up.
“See? You are busy.”
“No, that was something they could handle without me…”
Another call came immediately. While he asked the second caller to wait, his second and third phones began ringing one after another like warning sirens.
To anyone watching, he looked overwhelmingly busy.
Meeting Gyeoul’s trembling gaze, Taeyang made a decision. He powered off every single phone and hurled them all into a nearby trash can.
Then, smiling at her with the same warmth he had shown when he once took her hand, he said,
“I have all the time in the world.”