A Lifeline Recorded

"How did you—"

―It's difficult to explain over the phone. Would it be possible to meet in person?

The voice, as always, was calm and impeccably polite.

Even as I caught myself thinking, what kind of solution could a fourteen-year-old possibly have?, the words came tumbling out of me. "Uh... I'm having trouble going far from where I'm staying right now."

―Then may I come to your dorm? We can talk in my car. It won't take long.

Somehow, under that quiet pressure, I found myself dazedly agreeing.

I texted over the location of the dorm, and less than thirty minutes later came the reply that he had arrived.

Kang Sehyun wondered what on earth this was about as he pulled his cap down low and headed for the private parking garage.

Befitting a first-tier idol's residence, the security was tight.

In the sprawling lot where no sasaeng fan or reporter could even set foot, a car he'd seen a few times before stood alone. As Kang Sehyun approached, someone stepped out of the driver's seat.

"Hello."

"Ah, hello. You're Yeonjae's manager, right?"

"Yes. I'll be standing over by that pillar. Please speak comfortably, just the two of you."

"You could just stay with us, really..."

"The actor asked me to."

Lee Yeonjae's manager had the kind of intimidating bulk that would make anyone's breath catch. Seeing a man like that bow with such flawless courtesy gave the strange illusion that some mob boss must be waiting inside the car.

"Hello."

Of course, inside the car sat a demure boy who looked about as far from organized crime as a person could get.

His bored expression — the kind that asked what all the fuss of the past two days had even been about — put Kang Sehyun strangely at ease.

"Hey. What did you mean by what you said earlier?"

"I'll get straight to it. But are you recording right now, by any chance?"

"...Recording? No? Am I supposed to be?"

When Sehyun echoed the question in bewilderment, Yeonjae simply shrugged.

"If our conversation were to become public, my position could get complicated."

"Uh... right, sure. Here, see? I'm not recording anything."

"Thank you. If it's all right with you, could you hand it to me for the duration of our talk?"

Kang Sehyun glared at him sourly for a moment, then docilely handed over his phone.

There was politeness in the kid, but something was off about him. Was that just what geniuses were like?

Since his phone was already surrendered, he obligingly showed off his empty pockets as well. When he asked if that was enough, Yeonjae looked back at him with an apologetic face.

"I'm sorry, but your socks too."

"......"

Only after taking off even his socks and confirming there was nothing hidden anywhere did Yeonjae finally speak.

"There's a way to resolve the situation you're in right now, and it's with me. If the storytelling is handled well, the whole thing could even be turned around."

"What is it?"

"The only condition for me to tell you is that you don't ask about the source."

Those black eyes gazed straight at Kang Sehyun, as if there were nothing at all to catch on.

"Don't ask where I got it. Then I'll tell you."

"......"

Kang Sehyun deliberated for a long while before slowly nodding. The moment he agreed out loud, Yeonjae pulled an MP3 player from his pocket.

"What's that?"

"An MP3 player."

"No, I wasn't asking what it was... You guys still use MP3 players? Wow, that was all the rage back when I was in high school. Feels like forever."

"That one's yours, hyung."

"Huh? I never owned an MP3 player."

"No, you bought it nine years ago and kept it ever since. That's how you'll explain it from now on."

"...?"

He was still frowning at the incomprehensible remark when that listless, barely-interested voice continued.

"It's the MP3 you bought to record the verbal abuse from a man named Roh Yeonkyung — the one who tormented you back then."

"...! How did you—"

"To cope with it as rationally as possible, you recorded him over a long period of time, and right before you were going to show it to your teacher, 'that incident' happened. So the explanation goes like this: you did hit him one-sidedly, that's true, but when he learned you had the recordings, he came to apologize first, and the matter was settled privately without ever being reported to the police. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠That should do it."

Kang Sehyun was left speechless.

Yeonjae, as if he'd expected exactly that reaction, paid it no mind and kept talking.

"I've only put the recordings that work in your favor on here. Just in case, I included the file from 'that incident' too, but you can hear the sounds of fists landing, so I'd recommend not using that one. For reference only."

"......"

"If your agency asks why you never mentioned having something like this, give them some vague answer. It's decisive evidence, after all — worst case they'll be thrilled, not upset. First, go back and discuss it with the agency. The professionals will know better than me how to leverage it to turn things around."

It was the first time he'd ever seen the kid talk this much.

Having recited the entire long speech without stumbling once, Yeonjae looked at him.

"That's everything I prepared."

"......"

The boredom in those black eyes said there was nothing more to say.

I knew the kid was unusual, but...

This wasn't a level of unusual that could be brushed off with a word like that.

Kang Sehyun opened his mouth, feeling the goosebumps prickle down his spine.

"If I ask how on earth you got this..."

"Then you'd be breaking our only condition."

The answer came back firm and unyielding.

Kang Sehyun had no choice but to swallow his dry spit — and along with it, his burning curiosity.

Did any of this actually make sense? Was the kid just playing an elaborate prank on him? The doubts swirled endlessly, but...

If Lee Yeonjae wasn't lying, then this MP3 was his one and only lifeline.

No, wait — but how did any of this make sense?

It felt like walking through a dream, but the calm voice handing the device over snapped him back to his senses.

"Hyung. Go in first and listen to the recordings. It won't be pleasant, I know... but you need to know what's on them too."

"Right... yeah. I'll check it."

Half in a daze, Kang Sehyun fumbled the MP3 player into his hands.

When he opened the car door and stepped out, Lee Yeonjae's manager, who had been waiting far off by the pillar, strode over with long, even steps. The man gave a deep bow, then drove away, leaving Kang Sehyun standing there like a fool.

He lingered a long while in the empty parking lot before trudging back to the dorm.

He sat in a chair and agonized for hours before finally connecting the MP3 player to his computer.

Ding—

With the connection chime, the folder opened automatically.

In the pitch-dark room, the blue glow of the screen lit up a face frozen in shock.

"Actor-nim, should I grab some ice cream on the way in? There's a new lemon flavor out, apparently."

On the drive home from singer Kang Sehyun's dorm, I'd been resting my face against the window, and the voice made me snort a laugh.

"Sure. Let's do that."

"Then we'll stop by the mart first!"

He could just say he wanted ice cream. By now I was used to the way he turned his own wants into a question directed at me.

Watching his face in the rearview mirror grow brighter, I smiled — and then thinking back on what had just happened, my head grew complicated again.

I don't know if I did the right thing.

Was interfering in someone else's business like this really okay? Still, having something I could do and choosing not to do it seemed just as ridiculous.

One wrong move and the drama could get pulled off the air, they said.

There had been no absolute reason for me to do Hello, My Summer. The company had scripts lying around by the dozen, and there were plenty of other audition opportunities too.

But I knew all too well how many people toiled and suffered before a single drama ever reached the world. That was why I couldn't simply brush it aside.

Though of course, if it weren't for Angae, I'd never have even known there was something I could do.

'Yeonjae!'

'You've been well?'

'Yeah! But the shoot got cut off halfway today, it was such a shame! I practiced so much with you yesterday too!'

'Filming can wait. It'll resume once Sehyun-hyung's problem is settled. Though who knows when that'll be...'

At my murmur, Angae tilted his head.

'Then why did that story come up about him punching someone?'

'The supposed victim posted about it online. Saying Sehyun-hyung bullied him for months.'

'That's a lie! I saw everything!'

'...What?'

Angae told me with a bright, guileless face.

My schedule had fallen apart and left him with nothing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to do, so — he said — he'd sifted through singer Kang Sehyun's memories.

For a moment I was Nonplussed that he could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠read other people's memories besides mine, but then I saw the scene Angae was projecting onto the wall, and I froze.

It wasn't singer Kang Sehyun who had bullied someone for months. It was the man claiming to be the victim.

I confirmed that the name of the man who had tormented Kang Sehyun with vicious abuse was Roh Yeonkyung.

I also saw how Kang Sehyun, a trainee at the time, had spent months trying to avoid entanglement by ignoring Roh Yeonkyung entirely — right up until the man insulted his late mother, and Sehyun's eyes flipped over as he beat the man half to death.

The sight of him clutching the already-unconscious man with blood-slicked fists was so desolate it was almost hard to watch.

I quietly studied singer Kang Sehyun's face, soaked with tears, and then asked Angae to stop the image.

'Did I show you something I shouldn't have...? I'm sorry...'

Seeing my frozen expression, Angae apologized with a face full of guilt, but I couldn't manage a single word of reply.

I felt sorry toward singer Kang ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Sehyun.

For reading through memories like that without permission.

Every person has a private domain that others must never trespass into. Cross that line, and you might be treated as something special by the person in question — or treated as something repulsive.

Someone like me, who had crossed the line with no permission whatsoever, naturally fell into the latter category.

Afterward, singer Kang Sehyun had tried to leave his agency, but WB Entertainment buried the whole affair by offering the "victim" an enormous settlement.

His debut album had exploded from day one, and his meteoric rise matched everything I'd learned through Noh Bihyeok.

Only now did I notice the anxiety etched permanently into his face — the fear that his past could surface at any moment.

And how helpless his situation was, with no evidence that Roh Yeonkyung had been the one to bully him first for all those months.

'Angae. I'm asking just in case.'

'Yeah!'

'There's no way to bring this footage into the real world, right?'

'...Huh?'

Angae was making the expression of a primitive man hearing language for the very first time.

Even extracting just the audio and storing it on a recorder would have made usable evidence.

At my further explanation, Angae's face turned uncertain.

'That won't work.... There's no way I could affect the human world to that degree.'

'You've already changed my life. That's more than enough of an effect.'

'......'

'Angae. If it weren't for you, forget acting — I couldn't even hold a normal conversation with people. Whether this works or not, you've already changed so much. So don't deny it.'

Those clear eyes turned toward me.

Angae was silent for a long while, then — telling me not to be disappointed if it didn't work — made the MP3 player and handed it over.

Just before leaving the black space, I clutched the MP3 player in my hand with everything I had, with all the desperate sincerity in me.

And when I opened my eyes in the morning, there was something in my hand.