How to Avoid Debut

༺ How To Avoid Debut – 21 ༻

 

  First, I tried to rid myself of all distracting thoughts and lie straight on the bed to sleep. However, laying stiff as if I were placed on an experiment table didn’t help with sleep, possibly due to the uncomfortable posture. I tried to sleep in a more human-like position, curling up on my side, but sleep still eluded me. 

 

  As a last resort, I even read a boring, thick book meant to help induce sleep. I silently read up to page 20. It wasn’t until I aimlessly flipped to page 21 that I came to my senses and threw the book away.

 

  Today wasn’t my day. My body seemed to have decided that it couldn’t go into sleep mode, continuously showing signs of refusal. As soon as I sat upright on the bed, my gaze kept drifting to the smartphone I had put down on the floor. Reading a bit of news wouldn’t help understand my mood, but it was the most miserable thing in the world to have my skills evaluated.

 

  ‘Consider condition management as part of your skill.’

 

  I remembered the day the guy, who always hung onto this phrase like a tagline, first commented about my dance. Despite suffering from depression due to the stress of entrance exams, I had managed to retain my pride in dancing. That day’s voice was a huge shock to me, the me of that time.

 

  I clearly remembered staring at my face reflected in the practice room mirror, standing with shaky legs due to my rising fever. Thanks to that, my already fragile mental state quickly crumbled.

 

  Being underestimated due to baseless rumors, as a musician, was an incredibly sad thing. Anyone could see that my singing skills were more than enough.

 

  Having even delved into pointless reminiscing made me feel more suffocated, so I grabbed the jacket hanging on the bedhead and got up. Feeling like I needed to do something, I thought of taking a walk to get some fresh night air.

 

  “The world is ending, it’s ending!”

 

  As soon as I stepped outside the apartment, I heard the loud voice of a man heavily drunk. He seemed to have just finished a round of drinking. Listening to his voice full of complaints about the world, for the first time in my life, I empathized with a drunkard’s drunken rant.

 

  A world that believes all the lies on the internet and puts complete trust in a single photo to back up a potentially made-up story was indeed an “ending world,” borrowing the drunk man’s words.

 

  As I kept walking along the street lit by streetlights, I found myself in front of my alma mater. As I wanted to devote myself to dancing and thought commuting time was a waste, I persuaded my parents to let me live near school, so whenever I stepped outside, I could see my school.

 

  It was late, but there were sporadic spots where the lights were on, presumably for individual major practice sessions. Admiring their diligence, I redirected my steps towards the convenience store directly across from the school. I had decided to try and clear my heavy heart with a refreshing drink, but my decision was soon canceled due to a familiar figure sitting at the table in front of the convenience store.

 

  “……”

 

  Anyone could tell it was Jigu, but I didn’t immediately speak to him. Under the pitch-black sky, he slightly bowed his head and was idly fiddling with his smartphone. There were no traces of tears on his face illuminated by the phone’s light, and his eyes were not swollen either.

 

  Wondering why he looked so unstable despite seeming okay, I blinked slowly, then pulled myself together and went into the convenience store. Despite blatantly passing in front of him, he seemed too engrossed in his phone to recognize me.

 

  I paid for the daily 1+1 lemonade offer and contemplated for a moment as I exited. I quickly reached a conclusion. It seemed better to pretend not to know and pass by rather than thoughtlessly starting a conversation in the current situation.

 

  “Senior.”

 

  I was about to go back the way I came with a can of lemonade in each hand, when Jigu’s mouth opened with perfect timing. Thanks to this, I had no choice but to put my foot back on the ground which I had just lifted to take a step.

 

  He had called me first, but it would be rude to pretend not to hear, so I put down a can of lemonade on the table with a nonchalant face. It was meant for him to drink, but Jigu didn’t reach for it.

 

  “You’re not asking if I’m okay.”

 

  “Ah, sorry.”

 

  “…No. I didn’t want you to ask.”

 

  I had deliberately not asked, so I was flustered when he asked why I hadn’t. Jigu lifted the can of lemonade placed in front of him, slightly lowering his head at my dumbfounded response. For some unknown reason, that minor action was a relief.

 

  “Thank you.”

 

  “Huh? Oh, it’s nothing.”

 

  In this situation, it would be normal to just drink without saying anything, but when he thanked me, I felt so sorry that my hand raised involuntarily. It was already a 1+1 offer anyway. I watched him open the can and slowly lift it, twisting my fingers. It was hard to speak in this situation, but I couldn’t just go home like this.

 

  “I hate asking for help from you more than anything in the world.”

 

  “I know. Of course, I know. It’s not that.”

 

  “I really wanted to do it on my own. I wanted to be confident wherever I said it.”

 

  The can lifted into the air was not tilted to the end. His hand, holding the can, was trembling so visibly that I just quietly fixed my gaze on the table.

 

  When I thought of the countless malicious comments poured onto a kid who couldn’t even express his feelings properly, I found myself involuntarily furrowing my brows. Looking at the school uniform he was wearing, I was reminded anew that he was still a high school student.

 

“So I talked with you. We decided to act like we don’t know each other. I really hated it when people referred to me as your younger brother in front of my name. We’re each headed towards our own dreams, so there’s no need to go around broadcasting that we’re brothers.”

 

  “Right.”

 

  “Going through this and that, leaving everything behind because it was tough, but still not able to give up. If I hadn’t joined that company in the first place, none of this would have happened.”

 

  Jigu, who had been speaking with difficulty, eventually slammed the can onto the table. The lemonade, known for its generous quantity, splashed out in surprise at the rough movement.

 

  His face, which had seemed calm, crumbled in an instant. I figured there was no need to purposely look at his face hidden under the deeply bowed head, so I just quietly pushed the chair a little further aside. For a considerable amount of time, I sat there, fervently patting his intermittently trembling shoulders. It felt as if he was crying as much as the number of comments and articles he had seen that day.

 

  “I couldn’t go to school. I don’t know why, but I just couldn’t walk through the school gate.”

 

  “Okay, it’s alright to take a day off.”

 

  After pouring out his emotions like a broken faucet for a few minutes, Jigu hastily composed himself as if someone was watching. After briefly wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he gulped down the lemonade as if he hadn’t drunk anything for days. Jigu, who emptied the full can in one gulp, stared blankly at me with swollen eyes.

 

  “I’m grateful that you happened to pass by. I wanted to contact you, but I couldn’t because I thought it would be a nuisance.”

 

  “No, how could it be a nuisance.”

 

  “I was fine when my friends sent texts asking if I was okay, but I guess seeing you made me a little emotional.”

 

  Jigu turned off his phone, the screen darkening as its battery was nearly drained, and put it in his pocket. He seemed ready to go home now.

 

  I couldn’t bear to let him go alone, so in the end, I walked Jigu to his home, despite his attempts to decline. The apartment where Jigu lived wasn’t far from our house. If one quickened their pace, it was a distance that could be covered in ten minutes.

 

  “Make sure to turn off your phone and sleep. You’ve done nothing wrong, so don’t worry too much.”

 

  “Yes.”

 

  “Do you know about the shoot tomorrow?”

 

  “Yes. I got the text.”

 

  His voice sounded more calm as he answered, seemingly more at ease. He was fiddling with his fingers, as if he wanted to say something, but it seemed like he wasn’t going to say it. I decided just to say what I had to say and leave.

 

  “Rest well, and if it’s too hard, you don’t have to come.”

 

  It was an overstepping comment that my uncle would likely jump up at hearing, but honestly, I meant it. If he came to the shooting site, he’d have to face Kim Seongwon, which would undoubtedly be a humiliation.

 

  I thought it would be fine to convince my uncle to edit or postpone the shooting. I should cover the cost of the coffee that goes into editing.

 

  Even though I made the baseless comment that he didn’t have to come if it was too hard, considering we’re in the same competition, Jigu didn’t say anything. The silence became awkward, so I handed him the lemonade I’d been holding in my other hand.

 

  “Sleep well.”

 

  After awkwardly patting his back a few times, I turned around and walked away quickly. For some reason, I felt like I’d pretended to be a very dependable senior. I would have been grateful if he had felt even a little comforted by my words. Seeing him unable to cry out loud made me want to punch Kim Seongwon the next time I saw him.

 

  I clenched my fists, picturing his face, which always relaxed during the shooting. He was so good at managing his expressions in front of the camera, it seemed like he had a natural talent for annoying his opponents. On second thought, I felt embarrassed, thinking that I might have meddled too much unnecessarily.

 

  On my way home, walking down the street lit by street lamps, a call came in. Even though it was late, the street was bright due to the lamps positioned every few steps, but the sudden vibration startled me. As I calmed my surprised heart, I checked the caller ID. It was my uncle.

 

  “Why?”

 

-“Ah, Hahyun. The writers and I just had a meeting and decided we’ll be doing a hidden camera prank tomorrow.”

 

  I was taken aback by my uncle’s announcement that they would be conducting a hidden camera prank. The hidden camera I knew was an unpleasant culture where a group of people would have fun at the expense of a single person.

 

  “What kind of prank?”

 

-“Kim Seongwon’s birthday is in a week. He’s also in first place, so we planned for your group to surprise him with a hidden camera prank. The writers have everything planned out, but… can you buy a cake on your way?”

 

  A sheepish laugh echoed from the other end of the phone. So he had called to ask me to buy a cake. Having just comforted Jigu, who was struggling, I wasn’t exactly thrilled about the idea of a surprise birthday hidden camera prank.

 

  Whether it was meant well or badly, I had never liked hidden camera pranks, but it felt even more wasteful to do it for Kim Seongwon. Both the cake and the people involved in the prank seemed too precious to waste on him.

 

  “……I’ll go buy it.”

 

  -“Thanks, I’ll pay you back tomorrow. Come a bit early tomorrow.”

 

  I thought it was pitiful that I had to buy a cake for Kim Seongwon’s birthday with money from my uncle, who was already busy supplying coffee to the editing team. 

 

  I should buy the cheapest one. If I had it my way, I would have bought a Choco Pie and stuck a bunch of candles in it to put on a fire show, but I couldn’t possibly do that. I decided to buy a ten thousand won cake from the bakery near my house which was known for its good value for money.

 

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