FLD Ch 27

Right. There was no point trying to play dumb at this stage. A guy who had already confirmed things through a fellow graduate from the same school wasn’t going to be fooled by me pretending otherwise. I swallowed a sigh and sent a reply.

Less than thirty seconds later, a response came back.

No, I don’t want us to be on casual-speaking terms. I moved my fingers again and replied.

I figured I needed to confirm that first, but the truth turned out to be anticlimactic to the extreme. This Shin Woomin kid had apparently been a student at the practical music academy where my classmate worked. He’d posted screenshots of the promotional video and a photo of my car in a group chat with a few people he’d gotten close to there, and Jung Inhye had immediately reacted with, “I know who this guy is.”

‘Ha… honestly, she really can’t keep her mouth shut.’

There weren’t many people at school who knew I was Plan.0. Even if I didn’t openly advertise it on campus, you inevitably ran into people while working, and once you met them on-site, there was no way to keep things completely sealed. And she went and told a junior everything the moment she found out? Annoying as it was, the water had already been spilled. So now the only thing left was figuring out why he’d contacted me in the first place. I decided not to dance around it and asked bluntly.

He immediately freaked out and vehemently denied it.

His tone genuinely sounded shocked, which made me narrow my eyes again. Then why? As soon as the question crossed my mind, he added:

Such a frivolous way of talking. He wasn’t the type I wanted to get close to, and that impression hadn’t changed since the first time we met in the practice room. Still, at that moment, a thought flashed through my mind. Even back then, he’d casually acted friendly with Han Sehee. Then… did he know Han Sehee’s contact information, too?

On a whim, I asked if he was close with Han Sehee, and he replied as if wondering why I’d even ask.

Really? When I asked in surprise, he started chattering indignantly.

And then came the message that hit the mark.

‘…’

Honestly, sharp kids were the most annoying. Still, whether during filming or otherwise, his social skills were on a completely different level from mine. In the end, I backed down a step and answered him straightforwardly.

He would obviously know that Han Sehee hadn’t been in a good state when he left after filming that day, so I asked if there’d been any contact since. The reply I got was shameless beyond belief.

This brat. Should I just block him? Just as I was considering it, he dangled some bait.

The fact that I’d been the only one left out of that contact exchange wasn’t all that important. Well, strictly speaking, it was, but more than that, what really mattered right now was that a bridge had opened—one way for me to reach Han Sehee privately.

The moment I saw his playful messages, I called him. After a few rings, an annoyingly cheerful voice answered.

–“Ah, you called right away instead of texting.”

I went straight to the point, “What are you playing at. What do you want?”

When I asked bluntly, that light, memorable voice replied,

–“Come on, why are you being so harsh. What could I possibly want? I told you, it’s just networking. Whether now or later, you seem like someone it wouldn’t hurt to be close to, hyung.”

Then, in a voice tinged with laughter, he added,

–“Maybe not right now, but someday I might ask you for a favor when I need help. Still, I’m not the kind of guy who stabs people in the back or tricks them. Ask Inhye noona.”

“…”

His tone didn’t sound the least bit aggrieved, though. When I kept doubting him, he suddenly asked first.

–“So what should I send to him? Should I write whatever myself? Or—”

Like hell I’d trust him to decide that on his own. I told him I’d send the exact message he should forward.

He immediately complained.

I replied in kind.

That, at least, was undeniable.

See? Even he admitted it. I pushed once more.

Thirty minutes after he sent the message, a response came from Han Sehee. It had taken a while since I was not only inserting another person between us, but also role-playing that other person. However, if it was to clear up a misunderstanding, I had no choice but to do everything I could.

We started by congratulating him, then gently asked if he hadn’t been upset about getting Worst, and the reply that came back felt like it might explode from sheer self-reproach.

No! What exactly were you lacking? I swallowed a silent scream, like a fan almost shouting in protest when a singer says they’ve gained weight at a concert. I wanted to tell him he wasn’t lacking anything, that the situation had just been bad, that it was all a misunderstanding—but right now, the one talking to Han Sehee wasn’t Choi Youngwon, it was Shin Woomin. Gritting my teeth, I replied.

I didn’t forget to add something that might ease Han Sehee’s mood a little.

Of course, this hadn’t been my intention. I just thought that hearing from a third party that he hadn’t gotten Worst because he was bad, but for other reasons, might ease his hurt even a little.

Shin Woomin kept whining, saying things like, “Hyung, you’re completely ruining my character right now,” but I ignored him and said what I wanted to say. It wasn’t because you were bad. So don’t beat yourself up thinking you’re lacking.

I didn’t know if my intent had been conveyed perfectly, but by the time the conversation wound down, Han Sehee responded with something like, “Ah… I didn’t think of it that way…,” sounding a little more receptive.

And when the last question was thrown out, Han Sehee reacted with clear distaste and drove another stake straight into my heart.

Well, if he hated the idea, there was nothing I could do…. I wasn’t exactly in a position to face Han Sehee properly and clear things up myself. By the time that long back-and-forth finally ended, I was completely drained.