RAT Chapter 2 (Part 1)

2. The Glass Slipper, or Schrödinger’s Cell Phone

There’s no such thing as a free weekend for an idol trainee.

Of course, the so-called “weekend class,” a training program for trainees who live in the countryside and can’t come to the company during the week, isn’t really mandatory.

Well, technically, none of the training sessions are mandatory.

Still, even for trainees who live outside Seoul, it’s more common for them to either rush to the city right after school by high-speed train or move to Seoul entirely and live on their own to join the weekday sessions.

In that sense, the “weekend class” is more like a test of a trainee’s dedication, a kind of voluntary self-study. Unless there’s a good reason to skip, most people still show up. After all, no one’s forcing them to become trainees in the first place.

Which means, for someone like me, someone who has no choice but to be a trainee, weekends actually exist. Not that I can call them “free,” since there’s always something I have to do during them.

“…Haha.”

I fumbled with a small amp, unable to even connect the mic and speaker properly, and closed my eyes as I watched the group in front of me making the same unpleasant noise for what felt like the hundredth time.

…Seriously, I don’t want to get involved in this, but the fact that I can’t avoid it makes me want to die.

We weren’t even near a crowded area, just an open lot in front of a playground that people now mostly treat like a smoking zone.

And yet, dozens of people had gathered to watch the commotion in front of them.

Well, of course they did. The one causing this eardrum massacre was none other than Jin Yoorim, who would become the main vocalist of D.I.Y.

In other words, he drew a crowd with his face alone.

I looked around at the heavily unbalanced gender ratio of the spectators, sighed, rubbed my face dry with my hands, and stepped forward.

“That’s not the right one.”

“…Huh?”

“The speaker cable doesn’t go there. No, the mic goes—!”

“…Ah.”

[Beeeeeeeeep—]

I said the speaker connection was wrong, not the mic. So how did that turn into swapping both? What kind of logic or thought process leads to that? And when a sound that loud happens, shouldn’t the first instinct be to unplug it?

I swallowed all those words behind a polite-looking smile and simply turned off the amp’s power, cutting the noise completely.

“It’s safer to connect the cables with the power off.”

“……”

Jin Yoorim looked dazed, his mouth hanging open, staring straight at my face as if the loud noise had knocked his brain out.

…Good thing I was wearing a hat. Not that he would recognize me anyway, since Jin Yoorim isn’t looping through time.

Avoiding his gaze, I turned my head slightly, pulled out the tangled mess of cables, and reconnected them properly.

They were ridiculously long. I wish I had something to tie them with.

As I absentmindedly wound the excess cord around my hand, a black hair tie suddenly appeared in front of my eyes.

“…You looked like you needed one.”

“Do you tie your hair often?”

“Just my bangs sometimes. Ah, not outside though…!”

“…I see.”

He didn’t need to explain so desperately.

Before the next album’s concept was set, he’d sometimes just let his hair grow out anyway.

I brushed off his excuse and finished wrapping up the cords, then held out my hand again.

“……”

“No, not that hand. Do you have another hair tie?”

“Oh.”

Why is every one of these kids missing something?

Still holding the hand I’d extended, Jin Yoorim awkwardly used his other hand to rummage through his pocket in a twisted posture.

As expected, even while pretending to search for a hair tie, he couldn’t take his eyes off me. His head tilted slightly, matching mine.

“Hand.”

“…Y-yeah?”

“How long are you going to keep holding that?”

“Oh.”

…Was Jin Yoorim always this slow when he was younger?

The difference between the Yoorim in front of me and the one I remember was so great that I lost interest almost instantly. This wasn’t fun at all.

The Jin Yoorim I knew would have gotten angry even after making a mistake like this, yelling at me for suddenly barging onto his stage. Even if it went badly, he’d insist it was his stage and tell me not to interfere.

And he’d sing a song that would make you forget small mistakes like these.

But the Yoorim standing in front of me didn’t look like he could sing a song like that. If that’s the case, do I really need to go through the trouble of fighting a mental chess match with the Regressor just to bring him into the company?

I remembered hearing that Yoorim used to busk every weekend before joining the agency, and that’s why I came looking for him. What a waste of time.

At this rate, maybe even the Regressor saw Yoorim, realized he wasn’t the same as before, and decided he wasn’t worth it.

…Then what now?

No matter how I look at it, raising this version of Jin Yoorim to reach my goal would be way too difficult. Maybe I really do need to restart.

I must have sighed without realizing it, because Yoorim’s grip on my hand suddenly tightened.

“…Hyung.”

“Me? Ah, do I look that old? Why does every stranger I meet call me ‘hyung’ lately?”

“—Your song…!”

“……”

“You came to check my singing. Didn’t you?”

“…Me?”

“Yes, you, hyung. So listen. My song.”

Before I could say anything, he turned on the amp, took a few steps forward, and stood in the middle of the empty lot.

The people who had been waiting just to see his face started clapping lightly, and at last, piano music began to flow through the amp.

As for me…

I didn’t even know how to react, so I just sat down beside the amp.

Honestly, from the moment he called me “hyung,” I’d wanted to do exactly this. My heart was beating so fast it hurt — something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

I tried to keep acting naturally, but I’m sure it showed. Even I could tell my reaction was over the top.

But seriously, how could I not be shocked? From what he said, it almost sounded like he had regressed and was waiting for me.

…No, that’s ridiculous. He probably just mistook me for a staff member from the agency. Yeah, that makes more sense. If that were true, though, he wouldn’t have called me “hyung” at first, and he wouldn’t have stared at my face like he was hypnotized the moment he saw me.

I let out a quiet sigh and watched Yoorim’s profile as he began to sing.

“I had so many things I wanted to say, but in the end, I couldn’t say a word— and only after you left, I sang this song.”

It was a song by one of the singers who’s always included among the top four male vocalists in Korea. The range was high, and without skilled technique, it would sound flat and empty.

Yoorim was naturally gifted with a high vocal range, so singing high notes suited him better, but still…

A song isn’t just made of pitch and rhythm. It’s sung for people, not machines that judge accuracy.

To “sing well” means to move people’s emotions — and honestly, there’s no way a teenage Jin Yoorim could do that. Not unless he’d gone through the kind of warlike love he once shared with the Regressor.

So this performance should have been a failure.

“Do you think breaking up was easy for me? It’s just that I— loved you a little more than I loved myself—”

As the cheers rose around us, I looked at Yoorim’s face as he sang, staring right at me.

“…No, maybe I should see a bit more.”

I muttered to myself behind my cupped hands.

Even I had to admit, I probably looked a little crazy right now… but still, doesn’t this feel like it might work? Seventeen-year-old Jin Yoorim, singing with actual emotion? That’s like pulling an SSR at the end of a reroll.

Sure, this seventeen-year-old Yoorim was glaring at me like he wanted to eat me alive, but that much I could ignore. The Regressor — or Eden, rather — existed, so let’s call Yoorim “Regressor 2.” He looked like he’d been waiting for me too.

But really, what did I even do in their timeline to make them both look at me like that?

I gestured for Yoorim to look ahead, and after seeing him obediently follow my hand’s direction, I stood up.

I set my precious phone on top of the amp and slipped away through the crowd as casually as if I were just heading to a nearby café. As long as no one stole it, Regressor 2 would definitely find it.

He wouldn’t perform for more than a few hours… so when should I contact him to make it easy to meet?

Team Leader Seo Dong-hoon has good instincts. The moment he sees Yoorim, he’ll feel that he has to recruit him.

In that case, first things first — I need to meet Team Leader Seo and borrow a phone.

A normal office worker would hate coming anywhere near the company on weekends, but Seo Dong-hoon isn’t normal. He genuinely loves both his company and his job. I mean, I was even scouted by him while wandering around on a weekend.

On top of that, his hangout spots are a bit unusual.

“…Team Leader? What are you doing here?”

“Oh wow, you’re handsome. Ever thought about becoming an idol?”

“……”

“Haha, what brings you here on a weekend? Came to practice?”

Most entertainment companies have a shiny café on the first floor. It’s there for fans hoping to catch a glimpse of visiting idols and for hopeful trainees who want to get noticed by scouts.

Because the café’s purpose is so obvious, the drinks are expensive and taste terrible. The only decent things are the sandwiches and the “potions,” which are basically for staff only. After all-night work sessions, they down those to recharge their sugar levels in the morning.

I relied on those plenty of times when working on songs.

A mix of caffeine, more caffeine, and syrup on top — it’s a real potion in every sense. A truly divine recipe… but that’s not what’s important right now.

The point is, unless he’s been pulling an all-nighter, there’s no way Team Leader Seo doesn’t know how awful the coffee at the company café is.

No matter how much you love your job, bad coffee is still bad coffee.

So, every weekend, Seo Dong-hoon goes to a cheap café two blocks away from the company, in the academy district, and spends the whole day people-watching.

That’s how Eden, the first Regressor, got scouted — by Seo himself.

Later, in an interview, he said he never scouts near the company, adding, “People who are truly desperate don’t hang around cafés hoping to be seen. They’ll be out there dancing one more time for the audition instead.” That quote even went viral online for a while.

When I silently placed the coffee I was holding beside him, Team Leader Seo leaned back with an awkward smile.

Honestly, there’s no reason for a trainee who isn’t part of a project or AR team to be friendly with the casting director.

I smiled and sat beside him, silently saying, “Once you meet Yoorim, you won’t have to worry about me bothering you anymore.”

Seo let out a low groan and covered his face with one hand.

“Ah, today’s a bust.”

“…What do you mean?”

“After seeing your face, no one else stands out— I mean, wait. Why did you come here instead of the café near the company?”

“The coffee there’s terrible.”

“…That’s true.”

He muttered something about how even an eighteen-year-old could tell, then turned his body fully to face me.

“So, you’re not watching outside today? Weren’t you in the middle of something?”

“Oh, casting. But I already saw your face today, Yeoul.”

“……”

Since things had already turned out this way, he decided he might as well enjoy the view and kept staring at my face, which honestly made even me a little flustered.

Oh, so this is what kind of person he is.

When I first joined END, it was through a public audition, so I wasn’t particularly close to anyone on the casting team, including Team Leader Seo Dong-hoon.

He seemed like an interesting person, so I smiled lightly at him. He responded with an “Ohhh” and even gave a small clap.

But I wasn’t embarrassed by things like that. I didn’t go through idol life just for show, after all.

Resting my arms on the tall window table, I even cupped my chin in my hands and tilted my head. The crowd went “Oooooh” again, and this time they even pulled out their phones.

I pretended to cover my face shyly. “No, photos are a bit much…” But as if suddenly realizing something, I looked up quickly.

“…Team Leader, I think something really bad just happened.”

“What is it? Why?”

“I think… I lost my phone.”

Now, all I had to do was naturally borrow Team Leader Seo’s phone, call mine, and have Jin Yoorim—who would pick up—come here to return it.

There was a chance Yoorim might refuse, but judging by how much he acted like Regressor 2, that seemed unlikely. It was clear he had been waiting for me.

Whatever I might have done in the timeline where the regressors lived, it didn’t really matter now.

I wasn’t even carrying a bag, so there was nowhere else to check besides my pants pockets. Still, I pretended to look again just to be sure. Then I made a deliberately worried face and looked at Team Leader Seo.

That’s when a large hand suddenly appeared from behind me, along with a quiet sigh.

“Call it.”

“……”

“Should I do it?”

“……”

When had Regressor 1 even gotten here?

And since I didn’t take the phone from him right away, he almost called my number himself before realizing something and looking back at me.

Yeah, I get it. You’re not even trying to hide that you’re a regressor. But what are you planning to say if I ask how you know my number?

It’s ridiculous that I didn’t notice him standing there earlier, but what’s even more absurd is how confident he looks about it.

When I accidentally let out a small laugh, Team Leader Seo nodded with a warm expression, as if he’d just witnessed something touching.

“It’s good to see you getting along.”

Judging by that look, he must think something happened between me and the regressor on the day we signed the contract. I wanted to tell him that every single guess beyond that was completely wrong and should be thrown away.

This wasn’t some teenage boy teasing the person he likes until they cry and then awkwardly apologizing out of embarrassment. It’s not that cute or soft, so could you stop looking between us like that?

Even if I insisted on using the team leader’s phone instead because I didn’t want the regressor’s, I’d just end up looking childish. So that wasn’t an option.

I reached out my hand for the regressor’s phone, but this time he hesitated and didn’t hand it over.

“What? You said to call it.”

“I’ll… do it.”

“You know my number?”

“…You can tell me.”

Why. What now.

Annoyed, I rattled off my number almost like I was rapping. The regressor pretended to type something down, then immediately pressed the call button.

Team Leader Seo was impressed, saying he couldn’t believe he memorized it in one go and that kids these days were something else. But please. He hadn’t typed anything. His fingers were just waving over the screen for show.

My phone number was one I’d made as a kid when I got my first phone, combining my family’s birthdays. I’d thought about changing it many times after being harassed by obsessive fans, but never did.

Because of that, not only the members but almost all of our fans knew my number. Back then, people called me an attention seeker for not changing it even after being stalked.

I once even explained why I couldn’t change it, but then people accused me of using it for pity points.

Still, it’s strange. Why isn’t this regressor acting like he already knows my number, when that’s exactly the kind of thing he would normally brag about as a “regressor”?

Suspicious, I stared at his face, but Team Leader Seo patted my shoulder reassuringly.

“Don’t worry too much. You’ll find your phone soon.”

“…Yeah, I guess so.”

If Jin Yoorim didn’t pick up, I’d have to go find him myself. It would make it harder to have him and Team Leader Seo meet naturally without me around, though.

Even now, both regressors were eyeing me with that uncomfortable look of theirs. If I tried to drag Yoorim into the company by saying something like, “You, be on my team,” it would just backfire.

Back then, sure, I managed to pick up Eden while he was just walking down the street, and Moon Taeyoung from a school festival performance, but that was different.

In the silence that followed, the regressor finally said, “Hello?” It sounded like Jin Yoorim had answered.

I took a deep breath, pretending to be tense, and stared at the regressor.

Honestly, I still didn’t know why Regressor 1, Eden, had decided that Regressor 2, Jin Yoorim, was no longer necessary. Was it really okay to let them meet like this?

And if I said this was all coincidence, would anyone believe it?

Suddenly, I remembered how I’d been pretending not to know anything about regressors the whole time, so I looked up at Eden. But he was staring stiffly at the floor, his expression frozen.

“……”

He looked serious, but really, that was just his habit when he was lost in thought.

“What? What did he say? Where is he?”

There it was again, that bad habit of his. He didn’t want to listen, so he just tuned everything out.

I asked again, pretending not to know, but Eden didn’t answer. He simply looked down at me in silence, then hung up the call.

“He’s not answering.”

“What do you mean? He picked up.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“…Give me the phone.”

“No.”

“……”

Ha. This kid, seriously.

I stared at Regressor 1’s stubborn, seventeen-year-old face, then turned my body toward the side.

“Team Leader.”

“Uh… yes?”

“May I borrow your phone?”

I smiled brightly, as prettily as possible.

“Of course, use it as much as you like.”

Behind Team Leader Seo’s smiling face, I could almost see the faint, 70-percent-transparent thought bubble saying, They’re so cute, those two.

Of course, unlike me, Team Leader Seo is a decent human being, so maybe he wasn’t thinking that at all. But honestly, who cares? I already feel like crap.

I pretended not to notice Eden’s stare, took the phone quickly, and made a call right away.

“Hello…?”

[The person you are trying to reach is currently on another call. Please try again later.]

“……”

I was met with the coldest automated voice imaginable.

No one should be calling me right now.

Just in case, I turned my head while still holding the phone, and there was my dear regressor, glaring down at my phone.

“Just asking, but you’re not calling it again right now, are you?”

“…I’m not.”

Yeah, sure. Anyone could tell he was lying.

I put on my most charming smile—the kind I usually reserve for broadcast cameras, not regressors—and motioned for him to turn the screen toward me.

“Show me the screen.”

“No.”

“……”

The moment he saw my polite expression, Eden not only frowned but even stepped back a few paces.

…So what exactly does our dear regressor want to do right now?

I stopped tapping my fingers on the table, looked straight at him, and slowly lifted Team Leader Seo’s phone.

Eden stared at it nervously, his hand twitching like he was about to snatch it away. Then he finally squeezed his eyes shut, looking utterly defeated.

“That’s enough.”

Before I could redial, Team Leader Seo took his phone back.

“Alright. You’ve both rested long enough. Time to go back.”

“……”

“If you’re going to fight, do it at the company.”

Wow. He actually meant that.

I couldn’t help laughing, and Team Leader Seo leaned in slightly as if sharing a secret.

“If you hit him once or twice, I’ll still be on your side.”

“…Are you even allowed to say that?”

“Honestly, Eden went too far just now. Not that it matters much since I’m only on the casting team.”

That wasn’t what I meant. I was asking if it’s okay to say things like that.

His completely unexpected answer made me laugh again. Team Leader Seo gave me that same warm They’re cute together look from earlier before turning his gaze toward the window.

Not a bad way to signal that the conversation was over.

After dealing with so many restless kids lately, even this much felt oddly refreshing.

Alright, now what? Even if I go back to the busking spot, I probably won’t run into Jin Yoorim again.

When I glanced to the side, Eden was still staring at me, lips tightly shut, as if the concept of saying sorry didn’t exist.

…Well, even if he remembers regressing, he didn’t do it as many times as I have, so maybe it can’t be helped.

Still, knowing that doesn’t stop it from being annoying—seeing him act so childish, just like any other seventeen-year-old.

If this version of him remembers regressing, it’s natural for me to hope he’d help me with my goal. But this one… ha.

I made a conscious effort not to look at the regressor as I stood up from my chair.

There was no real need to obey Team Leader Seo’s “go back to the company” order, but listening to someone who said they’d take my side didn’t sound so bad either.

Just because I’m eighteen now doesn’t mean I’m going to act like a kid.

So I’m not going to get angry at Eden for following behind me like a guilty puppy for the five-minute walk back to the company.

We’re both heading to the same place anyway. Scolding him for that would just be a matter of bad character. Not that I have any intention of talking to him and making him feel better either.

Sorry, but the time in my life when I felt uncomfortable sitting in silence with someone I don’t know well is long gone.

…Still, it felt awkward not being able to put in my earphones, since I’d left my phone with Jin Yoorim.

I rolled the earphone case in my hand and sighed quietly. The company was located on one of the busiest streets in the city, so whether I wanted to or not, music from open shop doors flowed straight into my ears. Each place seemed determined not to be drowned out by the noise of the crowd, blasting their songs as loudly as possible.

Ever since I started composing and producing to escape being labeled a “failed idol,” I’d been avoiding listening to other songs whenever I could. I didn’t want to be influenced. No matter how careful you are, the human subconscious is terrifying.

A song I’d heard in some long-forgotten past timeline could suddenly resurface in a dream.

…Like the time I realized the song that won me first place at the studio sounded eerily similar to one I’d heard in the previous round. Yeah. No. I should stop thinking about that.

The memory alone made me nauseous, and I stopped walking. The regressor, who had been following a few steps behind, suddenly grabbed my hand and pulled me forward.

“What are you doing?”

“Let’s talk.”

“Why should I?”

“Then at least listen.”

He dragged me straight into that awful café on the first floor of the company building and pushed me into a corner seat hidden between a large pillar and a potted plant.