131 - I Unknowingly Rejected My Favorite

EP.131 #131. Baseless Accusations Even fantasy stories need a touch of reality to be truly entertaining. Reading a post online left me dumbfounded, leading to nothing more than a wry smile escaping my lips. "Mr. Taemin, this is a matter of great importance." My manager sat me down, looking at me with an exceptionally stern expression. "I'm speaking sincerely. You need to tell the truth about this." "Manager." With one hand resting on my forehead, I let out a sigh. Honestly, where should I even begin to deny it all? The written words seemed to depict someone else's life instead of mine. The supposed 'evidence' they brought was a middle school album; it certainly looked like someone who attended school with me. "It's true I graduated from that school, but you saw my student records back then, didn't you, Manager?" My past records were hardly remarkable or unique. If being a fervent fan were a crime, I might as well be on a most-wanted list, but such a world didn’t exist. "I truly have never hit anyone and was always a quiet student." Proving the absence of something is an incredibly challenging task. It's like being asked why a pizza is called a pizza, confronting you with an equal level of nonsensical perplexity. In pondering how to communicate my disavowal most effectively, I decided to divulge the earnest truth about myself. "Well... Manager, you know I really like Luca, right?" "Yes, I know." "I've always been really into comics or animations, right from the start. I still love them now." Though our working hours appeared to be trickling into the evening, I felt it essential to clarify thoroughly just how much of a nerd my school days personified. "So much so that I skipped the sports day and spent the time hiding in the classroom reading comic books!" Even my mom didn’t know about this top-secret past. As I rambled on with such detail, my manager eventually broke into a tepid smile and nodded along. "Would you say that's convincing enough?" "Yes... I feel confident I can convey this clearly to the team leader." "Phew..." The mere mention of school violence was ludicrous. Ironically, I’d scurried past alleyways hastily to avoid getting bullied myself. "For the time being, reacting immediately might be premature, so let’s monitor the situation a bit more. Trust us, Taemin, and please try not to worry too much in the meantime." Returning to the parking lot, we boarded my manager's car, bracing ourselves for the hellish 6 p.m. rush hour together. "Ah... These nasty commenters are utterly indiscriminate, whether you're a newcomer or not." Vehicles creep along with the rhythm of the traffic lights. The looming red lights on the road seemed like a horde of trolls intent on blocking my path forward. "Once your popularity spikes, Mr. Taemin, you'll likely need to consider moving." "...Moving?" Move? Do they seriously expect me to move? "Yes, the place you're staying at currently isn't exactly secure, is it?" It seemed unreasonable to expect deluxe security features in a small, rented room. Neither the tenants nor the belongings inside were of any notable significance, making it odd to have extravagant locks installed. "But... isn't moving contingent upon several factors working in your favor?" "We do strive to ensure our artists can act freely, but they are usually the ones who decide to relocate first." I wondered if that decision stemmed from earnings exceeding typical thresholds, but the ensuing explanations allayed my curiosity. "No matter your level of fame, hostile fans inevitably appear." My manager gripped the steering wheel and sighed briefly. "That's just the nature of this job. Even before I was in charge of you, Mr. Taemin, I worked with both newcomers and those whose names everybody knows. It's always the same story." "At first, people try to manage, taking measures and enduring, but ultimately, they often feel uncomfortable and choose to move. The company realizes how unpredictable this can all be, which is why they encourage it." I leaned my chin against the window frame, pondering an uncertain future. It wasn’t an affinity for the house itself that troubled me. If I were to leave, it would be my girlfriend, Doah, who inevitably ended up left behind in the place we shared so many benefits. Memories flashed through my mind—her unexpected nocturnal visits for late-night snacks like tteokbokki, the days I ferried her to and from the studio, and even the spontaneous surprise visits without prior notice. ...None of that could continue. Albeit absent any guarantees of ever becoming a superstar, the thought suddenly surfaced. "You worked hard today. I'll come to pick you up at the same time tomorrow." Unable to navigate the narrow alleys easily, my manager dropped me off at the bus stop instead. "Yes! Be sure to get home safely!" The icy, snow-covered incline felt different this time as we parted ways. Moving... so a move might really happen. Whenever I trudged up this ascent, I wished for flat terrain, but now faced with the actual possibility of moving, a swirl of mixed feelings surfaced. I took out my phone and called Doah. [Hello?] [Oppa! Why are you only calling now? You said it’d end by five!] It felt awkward to mention meeting with counseling over a school violence issue, so I settled for a simple excuse that the lesson was delayed. [Have you eaten yet?] [I'm starving.] [Will you eat at home?] [I’ll probably order delivery, I think.] While I rarely cooked for myself, I found myself mentally and physically drained at the moment. [Want to eat together?] [You haven’t eaten yet?] [I was waiting to eat with you, oppa.] Now I felt guilty after hearing that. [Wait for me. I’ll get changed and head over to your place.] [Should I order the food beforehand?] [Yeah. Just get whatever you feel like eating.] [How about jokbal for a change?] My girlfriend, bubbling with excitement about the prospect of good food, cheerfully hummed a tune. I left a quick "I'll be right there" message and stepped back into the house. Damn... As soon as the manager mentioned moving, every bit of this place started to feel steeped in nostalgia. Why am I suddenly feeling sentimental for a room that never really meant anything before? Admitting that I was perhaps more sensitive than I thought, I hurried over to Doah's place. "Ta-da!" Doah greeted me in an outfit I hadn’t seen before. "What do you think? Pretty, right?" "Did you just buy that?" I remembered she only had that light purple pajama set. Today, she was dressed in a soft pink pajama, reminiscent of Luca's signature color. "I got it from an online store. Isn't it cute?" "Yeah, it's adorable." I replied with a smile, and she instantly leaped into my arms with a warm embrace. "You worked hard today." "Nah, not really." While we waited for the food to arrive, I launched into an animated explanation of what I'd learned during the day. "Go on, show me then." "...No way." "Why learn it if you're not going to demonstrate?" Having described an exercise routine of sit-ups and stand-ups we'd endured, Doah playfully insisted that I try it here. Not feeling particularly confident in my execution—and not seeing the point—I resolutely planted myself on the bed. -Knock Knock Knock- Hearing the knock signaling the arrival of our food, I jumped up quickly to get it. "Let's eat~" "And then you'll show me after we eat." She was as persistent as a determined fan. As I set the table, Doah began opening each packet and placing the containers neatly atop it. "Aah!" "Whoa! You scared me!" Caught off guard by Doah’s sudden scream, I nearly dropped a plate. "What’s the matter?" "The naengmyeon!" "What?" "We forgot to order naengmyeon!" Her cheeks puffed out in a comedic exaggeration of despair, my girlfriend lamented her mistake, looking utterly defeated against the bedpost. "I'm such an idiot..." "No, it's okay. We can just order it next time." "But the whole point of ordering jokbal was to have it with naengmyeon." "Is it really that crucial?" Being someone who could take it or leave it, I couldn't quite relate to her level of disappointment. I helped the now zombie-like Doah up, and we began our meal. "Seriously... You’re to blame, for not reminding me earlier." "How could I remind you of something you ordered on your own?" "That's it. Luca'll have a one-month chat ban." Doah's tendency to abuse her imagined authority was becoming more pronounced. I shook my head with mild amusement. "Oppa, isn't the reaction to the drama really positive these days? It seems like a ton of comments were posted." "Ahh..." The school violence issue snapped to the forefront of my mind, and I failed to mask my unease. Doah didn’t miss my momentary lapse. "What's up? Is something wrong?" "No, no. There's nothing wrong, really." My evasive response only appeared to make Doah more suspicious, tilting her head curiously. "Are you sure there’s nothing?" "Absolutely." "Just yesterday, I saw tons of comments with people saying you're incredibly handsome and cool." Scrolling through her feed, presumably intending to show me some supportive comments, Doah’s hand suddenly halted. Her pupils quivered slightly. "Huh...?" Her reaction echoed that of someone who’d stumbled onto something best left unseen. Wait. Don't tell me she found it...? I was hoping she'd miss it altogether... "You son of a bitch!" Hearing such a fierce curse from Doah, something absent even from TV shows, startled me.