No One Likes Lee Yeonjae

"You have no idea what an extraordinary experience I had today. That was a sight money could never buy."

"Haah... Did anyone ask?"

"Bambi might not actually be human. Maybe he's an angel, or something in that family."

"No! I said I don't care! Get out of my room, now!"

The fan club president brushed past her little brother's adorable whining and kept talking without pause. She simply couldn't contain the turbulent feelings unless she poured them out to someone.

Our Yeonjae... He really was just like Bambi — even more than I'd imagined.

His face from earlier that day was still vivid, as though painted across the inside of her eyelids. Bambi had smiled with perfect composure even while people wailed and cried out at the sight of him. During his banter with the MC, he'd beamed at the audience like an angel in the flesh. And she wasn't exaggerating — even his walk, the smallest tilt of his head, brimmed with such elegance and ease that it was hard to believe he belonged to the same species.

No. This wouldn't do.

"Sorry, but I don't have time to chat with you right now. These photos need retouching."

"...Fine. Just leave already, please."

She had to introduce Yeonjae's beauty to the world, and fast.

Back in her room, the president pulled up the photos she'd taken that day on her computer screen.

"How does a human being not have a single visible pore? I could probably upload these with zero editing."

He isn't secretly not a person, right?

She wasn't entirely joking.

In the photos, Yeonjae sat wearing a deer headband, speaking warmly with the fan seated in front of him. Lowered lashes, lifted cheeks, softened lips. His face was practically a work of art sculpted around the theme of "gentleness." Yet a faint playfulness flickered through it, thanks to the eyebrow scratch cutting in at a slant near one brow. The textbook ideal of the "warm handsome man," with boyish charm sprinkled on top. It was insane. Truly.

"Oh, he's smiling especially brightly in this one. How cute... ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Oh, right — this is the manager, isn't it."

A large-built man sat ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠beside Yeonjae in the one photo where he smiled brighter than anywhere else. He was a civilian, so she'd have to crop him out before posting... What a shame, though. He was easy on the eyes too.

Of course, our Bambi comes first.

It felt a little late to say this after gushing paragraphs of pure looks-praise, but what had struck the president most deeply today wasn't his face. It was his eyes.

...He looked at me like I was someone precious to him.

His clear eyes had sparkled, and every word from his lips was laced with consideration. For that single minute — a brief exchange of a few sentences — she'd felt wrapped head to toe in tenderness. It wasn't as if she'd never had the chance to meet a celebrity she stanned face to face before. Even so, she'd never once felt like this.

That gentle gaze, like someone beholding a jewel wrapped in soft silk. With all her years of fandom experience, the president had been utterly, helplessly defeated.

Haah... When is the fan meeting. Seriously.

Having met him once, her appetite only grew. With the firm resolve to make the world love her celebrity — a boy who deserved every ounce of adoration he received — the president stayed up all night selecting photos.

"You're all over the internet right now, you know."

I know — but saying so would be a bit much.

I gave an awkward smile, and Noh Bihyuk poked me in the cheek, one poke after another.

"You were going on about how nervous you were right up until the day before, and then what do I see?! On camera you look every bit the seasoned celebrity!"

"I told you, I was seriously nervous. It's a real relief that none of it showed."

"You really must be a born actor. How is THAT a nervous face?"

When Bihyuk started searching for fan-shot footage of the event, I scrambled to stop him.

"Turn it off already. I'm embarrassed."

"You're embarrassed NOW? After grinning like that?"

Snickering, the little punk pulled up a single photo purely to needle me. It was a shot of me beaming at a fan.

Even by my own assessment, every muscle in my face was in a state of total surrender, which made it mortifying. More to the point — he saved that?

"So what was it like, actually meeting your fans in person? I'd imagine it wouldn't feel real."

"You're right. Honestly, even now it feels like a dream."

Despite the mountain of photographic and video evidence, the memory was hazy, like something I'd dreamt. Those hours when I couldn't control my own body or my own feelings — and yet, somehow, hadn't been bad at all.

And to think I agonized so much over going...

For two full weeks after the day I'd visited singer Kang Sehyun's exhibition, I had fretted endlessly. I hunted down footage of other celebrities' fan sign events, telling myself it was studying — but it all felt like watching a drama, and I couldn't immerse myself no matter how hard I tried.

That's supposed to happen to ME in real life? Impossible.

What pulled me out of my mild panic was Angae.

'Yeonjae!'

'Hmm?'

'I've noticed you keep spacing out. ...Do you not find me fun anymore?'

Angae looked somehow anxious, asking that.

Only after seeing that expression did I snap back to my senses, and I hurriedly pulled him into my arms and patted his back.

'That's because they said I have a fan sign event tomorrow. I was preoccupied. I'm sorry I made you feel that way.'

'So I'm still fun, right?'

'Of course. But, Angae — that's not why I like you. It's not because you're fun.'

Angae rolled his eyes every which way, watchful and wary, and I met them straight on.

'I simply can't do without you.'

'...'

'If anything, I'm the one who should be worried. I don't care whether you find me fun or not — but you only like me because I'm fun, don't you?'

'That's not true!! Why would you say that!!'

Angae, who had been nestled docilely against me, shot bolt upright. The way he shrieked and flailed looked exactly like something a four-year-old would do.

Just because you wear a child's face, does that mean you think you actually are one?

'Then what? Even if I stopped being fun, you'd still talk to me?'

'Of course! And! And... I like Yeonjae too. Really, really much...'

The way he pressed and pursed his lips in embarrassment only made me laugh.

I spent a long while that night soothing Angae as he burrowed into my arms, our quiet conversation drifting on and on. Maybe it was the drowsy ease of being alone with the one being who put me at ease, in a place where there was nothing to be tense about — but somewhere along the way, the thought I'd been chewing on for days slipped out of me unbidden.

'Who should I be, tomorrow?'

'Huh?'

Looking down at the young face brimming with confusion, I went on.

'You heard what Jinbae-hyung said to me two weeks ago. That strangers can like me.'

'Right...?'

'And if that's really true, then those people fell for me from what they saw on TV. But I don't know which character that was. Kim Hoyun? Yu Hyeon? Kim Suho? Which one do I have to imitate for them to like me?'

Angae was silent for a moment. Then he transformed on the spot.

Shifting into Jinbae-hyung's form, he grew suddenly much larger and patted me on the back. No — he gestured at patting me on the back. Why is this kid so clumsy at everything he does?

Unaware that I was swallowing a laugh, Angae spoke with a stern face.

'Why would you think that way? They might just like Yeonjae for being Yeonjae!'

'Be reasonable. Why would anyone like me just for me?'

'Why not? You have me! I like Yeonjae because he's Yeonjae!'

Even wearing Jinbae-hyung's face, that sulking, puffed-up expression was so utterly Angae that I chuckled low in my throat at his jutting lips.

'Thank you. But I'm not putting myself down for nothing — I'm just analyzing the situation objectively. Because that's what it is.'

'Huh?'

'The only reason I could act at all — the only reason I could appear on TV — is that my Misfortune Factors were fully drained. It was possible precisely because I was playing someone other than myself.'

'So...?'

Angae still clearly hadn't grasped what I meant.

I smiled, uncomfortable. I hadn't intended to spell it out in such detail.

'It means no one has ever liked me for being Lee Yeonjae.'

'...'

After all, with my Misfortune Factors unresolved, I couldn't even hold a relaxed conversation with another person. It was a truth I had long since accepted — a shame, perhaps, but simply the way things were.