Woke Up to a Changed World

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He answered without a moment's hesitation.

"Lucky for me, I don't have a girlfriend to get jealous."

I did forget sometimes, but I was a celebrity. And I knew all too well how many people were curious about a celebrity's private life. Acting might have been a relatively forgiving profession when it came to dating, but you could never forget how many eyes were watching.

There are bound to be Biyeon fans who care about this sort of thing. If even a single fan was sensitive about it, I'd need to shut it down firmly.

"Aha~, I see."

Jim nodded along, surprisingly easily. Just as I thought he'd let it go, the changeup came.

"Then do you have a boyfriend?"

"……"

With reflexes like that, I could've gone pro in baseball.

When I simply stared at him in silence, Jim put on a mischievous face.

"What? This is an open space. There's no problem at all. Right, everyone? Feel free to answer honestly."

His tone was cheerful and clearly joking. I debated what to say, then quickly manufactured a look of polite distress.

"Hmm, Jim…"

"Yes?"

"I don't want to make things awkward here."

I forced a strained smile.

"I have no plans to see anyone right now. For the time being, I want to focus on my work."

"…?"

"I figured I should be clear about it so there's no confusion later. It's not that I dislike you or anything, it's just—"

"Oh my god, what are you saying?!"

Jim's mouth fell wide open. Immediately, laughter came rippling up from the audience seats.

I held my flustered smile with quiet dignity.

"I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings."

"Hurt my—what are you even—"

"You know."

"Know what?! I don't know anything!"

Jim sprang from his seat with a shout of "Come on, man!" At the same moment, the band struck up and the crowd laughed even harder. Even the staff section had broken into laughter.

"You got me good! I can't believe this!"

Jim ran a hand over his forehead and made one grand lap around the talk show set before finally returning to his chair. A deeply satisfied smile had spread across his face.

"It's been a while since I've met an opponent this formidable. Any thought of appearing on other shows? I have a feeling you'd be brilliant at it."

"If the opportunity arises, I'd be happy to."

"Oh! Then leave your contact info with us before you go."

"Like I said, I really do want to focus on my work—"

"Enough!"

Jim shot up out of his chair again, and the audience came apart all over again. This time even the drummer cracked up mid-performance and flubbed a note.

And so the talk show drew to a close, buried in cheerful laughter.

I think that went pretty well.

That thought turned into certainty when Jim showed up in my dressing room the moment the show ended. Beaming from ear to ear, he said I'd saved the show today and thanked me for it.

"You weren't nervous at all, even live on air. Impressive. Your answers were sharp, too."

"That's thanks to how masterfully you ran things. Thank you. I had a genuinely good time."

At my smiling reply, Jim held out a business card.

"What I said on the show wasn't a joke. I know a lot of people at foreign production companies — I could land you a sitcom role this very second if you wanted."

With a final word telling me not to hesitate to reach out, Jim left.

"You did wonderfully today, sir."

I leaned against Jinbae as he handed me a bottle of water.

"…I didn't slip up anywhere, did I?"

"Not in the slightest. You were perfect."

Jinbae smiled and kneaded my shoulder.

"I nearly died wanting to brag that I'm your manager. I almost walked up to complete strangers and told them, I swear."

Warm words. I felt the tension drain out of me.

"That's a relief."

I was exhausted beyond words. I wanted to lie down right there and then.

If I passed out here, I'd get to see Angae, wouldn't I?

"What would you like to do with this card, sir?"

Jinbae pointed at Jim's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠business card.

"Give it to Team Leader Woo. She'll take care of it."

"Understood. If an appearance offer actually comes in, what will you do?"

Couldn't that wait until it happened? I was far too tired to agonize over every single set-up line meant to feed the segment.

"You must be worn out, sir. Let's head back to the hotel first."

Thankfully, before I could answer, Jinbae spoke up first. Told that the car was waiting, we made for the back exit of the studio — and an entirely unexpected sight was waiting for us there.

"…?"

"Bambi!!"

The parking lot, which should have been deserted, was packed wall to wall with people. I looked around — nearly all of them were Korean.

"Oh my god, he's so cute."

"You worked hard today!! You're the best!"

Were these my fans? No way.

Why is Biyeon here?

Dazed with disbelief, I asked,

"……Are you, by any chance… waiting for me?"

It wasn't even that funny a question, but people laughed. Then who else would we be waiting for? came the answer.

What did I just say.

Here — they'd come all the way here, just to wait for me.

My head went cold in an instant.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

When I couldn't help making a tearful face, the laughing crowd froze.

"I had no idea you were all waiting. I should have come out much sooner."

As I apologized, pale-faced, every face around me went white with alarm.

"Bambi, it's okay! Oh no, we're sorry!"

"No, I'm the one who's sorry."

"We're the ones who should apologize!! We'll go. Sorry."

"Please don't go. A photo — no, an autograph, then."

I hurriedly caught hold of the fans who were trying to slip away.

"I'm truly sorry for making you wait until this hour. I don't know if you'd even want it, but my autograph, at least… Jinbae-hyung, a pen, please."

The moment I took the pen Jinbae handed over, the hesitant fans stepped forward one by one.

"Could you sign the back of my phone case?"

"Of course. You didn't come all the way from Korea, did you?"

"I live here in New York! I came because I heard you were coming."

I see. Right, of course.

Biyeon could exist in New York too.

At that unthinkable truth, I went momentarily blank.

Far from being angry about being kept waiting, the fans were warm and gracious. When I heard, over and over, how much they'd loved today's show, my heart melted soft.

"Thank you so much for coming all this way for me."

Before I knew it, the words thank you were coming out of me far more often than I'm sorry.

The April New York night was strangely, almost uncannily warm.

I woke up, and the world had changed.

It sounded like the opening line of some novel, but astonishingly, it was true.

…?

The first thing that struck me as odd was that my phone was dead.

I distinctly remember charging it to full before I went to sleep.

Bewildered, I pushed myself up to plug it in — and at that exact moment, the door burst open.

I flinched at the door flying open without so much as a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠knock. It was Jinbae.

"Hyung?"

Jinbae strode in wearing a strangely urgent expression and swiftly drew the curtains shut.

"What's wrong? Did something—"

"One moment, please."

Cutting me off, he placed a call to somewhere. Watching him bark instructions back and forth put me even more on edge.

What is going on?

Only moments ago, I'd been rolling around with Angae.

The lingering haze of sleep still clung to me, which only made it harder to grasp the situation.

"Sir. Please don't be too alarmed when you hear this."

As I sat blankly on the bed, Jinbae approached wearing the grimmest face I'd ever seen on him.

"There are paparazzi gathering in front of the hotel right now."

"What?"

Paparazzi?

The kind that hound foreign celebrities?

"Apparently it's getting hard to control from downstairs. You don't need to worry about photos, though. The windows have anti-reflection lens coating, I'm told."

"No, wait, what are you—"

"Lily Sweety mentioned you on Ins*agram, and it seems that set everything off even worse."

Lily Sweety? Who on earth was that now?

I felt like I was having a conversation with an alien.

As I stood there stammering, utterly unable to follow, Jinbae told me to stay put in my room for the time being and hurried out.

After a dazed moment, I turned on my phone to try to make sense of things. The instant the screen lit up, the notifications went off like mad.

"…Why do I have this many missed calls?"

There were over thirty missed calls alone.

The messaging app was one step away from exploding.

Noh Bihyeok's last message read as follows:

Take what?

Too impatient to stand it, I pressed the call button. It connected instantly, with no ringtone at all.

Shouldn't have bothered calling.

Clicking my tongue, I opened a browser window. I was about to search for Lily Sweety — but it turned out I didn't need to.

In the headline news beneath the search bar, the following was written: