How to Avoid Debut

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༺ How To Avoid Debut – 31 ༻

 

  “You’ve worked hard.”

 

  The moment the final shoot was over, strength left my legs, and I slumped to the  ground. From there, I naturally lay back completely.

 

  The clear sky caught my gaze immediately. Just moments ago, I had been running below it. My breath was short, and my heart raced uncontrollably.

 

  “Aren’t you cold?”

 

  Lying as still as a corpse, only breathing, a blanket suddenly flew towards me. The precisely thrown blanket covered my face. The sudden smothering sensation made me lower the blanket slightly, and only then did I feel the approaching cold. I had put it on due to the general atmosphere, but wearing a summer shirt in November seemed too light.

 

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  “Thank you.”

 

  “It looks like it’s going to turn out well. It really captures youth.”

 

  I couldn’t help but laugh at the comment from the man adjusting the camera. I felt drained, but also exhilarated. I was cold, but in high spirits. I didn’t mind getting my clothes dirty. Normally, I wouldn’t care how clear the day was, but whether it was the location or the ambiance, I couldn’t take my eyes off the sky. It looked like a ceiling adorned with beautiful wallpaper.

 

  “Let’s wrap up.”

 

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  Chulsoo signaled, and I had no choice but to slowly rise. As my view shifted from the sky to the camera right in front of me, my head spun. To shake off the dizziness, I scrunched my face and carefully got up. Instinctively, I took a deep breath and looked at the sky again. It was just as clear as before, but now it oddly stung my eyes.

 

  I had felt off, and sure enough, I caught a cold.

 

  After satisfactorily completing the teaser shoot and returning home, I collapsed and slept right away, which resulted in this terrible physical condition. Even though I was tired, I should have taken medicine or turned on the heating. Now, even swallowing felt like an immense task.

 

  “Ah, ah. Ah.”

 

  Cautiously opening my throat, I tried to make a sound in the empty house. What came out of my sore throat, aggravated by the cold, was far from pleasant.

 

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  Inside the house, the only medication I had left was a solitary general cold pill. What’s worse, I was supposed to take two, but only one lonely pill remained, as if advertising itself for consumption. It came in a pack of ten, so it should have been consumed in pairs. I had no idea when or how I’d managed to take an odd number.

 

  “I should probably just sleep some more.”

 

  I diligently replied to a text asking for my opinion on the teaser video production, and returned to the warmth of my bed. When I woke up after a nap, nothing had improved. My head throbbed twice as hard and my voice had deteriorated further. Realizing that rest wasn’t going to solve this, I dressed to head to the clinic. I kicked aside the shirt I’d carelessly discarded the day before and chose a warm, furry zip-up.

 

  “Hey, wait up! You’re so damn impatient.”

 

  As soon as I stepped outside with a disposable mask on, a jingling voice pierced my ears. The narrow street was full of students. It was only then that I stupidly checked the time and realized that school had just let out.

 

  Furthermore, there were no less than three high schools near my house. They were somewhat spaced out, but with most apartments and houses clustered around here and the proximity to a train station, the area would become as crowded as a packed bus during after-school hours.

 

  I considered going back inside and coming out an hour later, but I didn’t act on that thought. I’d likely be too lazy to step out later. So, sticking as close to the edge of the walkway as possible, I slowly made my way to the clinic. Then, I overheard a conversation between two students nearby.

 

  “You really taking the college entrance exam?”

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  “I failed the practicals, so what can I do? At least I’ll try to get the lowest grade.”

 

  “To be honest, getting into the Korea Arts University was a high goal. I heard the competition rate was 120 to 1 this time.”

 

  At the voice of the student shaking their head in disbelief, my heart sank. Being feverish, I was reminded of this time last year.

 

  Not taking the exam because of poor health wasn’t the issue. The real challenge was dealing with the high expectations that others had casually imposed upon me. Teachers and classmates lamented, “We never thought you’d end up like this.”

 

  I snapped back to reality to find that my feet had stopped moving. The students who were having a serious conversation just moments ago had long since disappeared into the crowd, and I stood there, as if frozen in place.

 

  I lowered my gaze to look at the tips of my shoes. I needed to reach the clinic before it closed, but suddenly my feet felt incredibly heavy.

 

  “Senior?”

 

  A clear voice pierced through my daze, likely intensified by the fever. Instinctively, thinking of the term of address, I swiftly looked up, thinking of Jigu.

 

  “Wow, it is you! Hey, wait a sec. Senior!”

 

  As he motioned to his friend to wait, the person rushing toward me wasn’t Jigu. As he came closer, the familiar face was unmistakably a junior from the same club, from the practical department. Wearing a dangling blue necktie, the junior approached, leaning in close with an eager face.

 

  “Do you remember me, senior?”

 

  “Jeonghyun, was it?”

 

  “No, it’s Jeonghan! But this isn’t the time. Just a moment, I’ll contact our seniors.”

 

  I firmly held the junior’s hand that was hurriedly trying to make a call. The way he immediately went to call someone upon seeing me gave me an idea of how much the others were looking for me. Though it was my fault for cutting off all contacts with friends after graduation, I no longer wished to meet with those from the past.

 

  “Don’t call them.”

 

  “Why? The seniors said we must bring you to the reunion. Oh, did you change your phone?”

 

  “Just pretend you never saw me.”

 

  I couldn’t understand why everyone was so obsessed with this damn reunion. Why would graduates from just last year already be having a reunion? Didn’t they all have busy college lives? Or perhaps they were simply curious about me, now appearing on TV like a celebrity. Well, a reunion would indeed be more enjoyable with a rare case like me in attendance.

 

  “Why?”

 

  “Is ‘why’ the only thing you know?”

 

  Growing frustrated with his incessant questioning, my tone sharpened. The conversation was longer than expected, and I could feel the junior’s friend constantly glancing our way. Being a public figure, I knew raising my voice in the middle of the street wouldn’t be wise, so I decided it was best for me to avoid the situation altogether.

 

  “Ah, I’m sorry. I’m a bit on edge right now.”

 

  “Everyone at school is talking about you non-stop. They’re all saying you graduated from our school.”

 

  “I’m busy, so I should get going.”

 

  “Can’t you just give me one autograph?”

 

  I wondered if he had always been this relentless. In my memory, he was just a slightly noisy but kind junior. Maybe it was the fever boiling inside me that made me more irritable.

 

  “No autographs.”

 

  “Just scribble your name quickly for me.”

 

  Despite my refusal, the junior shamelessly pulled out a notebook from his bag. It felt awkward not to oblige in this situation. Irritation surged to the tips of my hair, but I took a deep breath and grabbed the offered pen. I realized that when one isn’t feeling well, their patience is easily tested. I decided to do it quickly and leave.

 

  “What’s your name?”

 

  “It’s Kim Jeonghan.”

 

  I scribbled the four characters of his name, wondering why I was even doing this. I wasn’t some debuted idol, just a participant in a TV show. I couldn’t fathom why he’d want my signature.

 

  “Could you also write a brief message?”

 

  The junior’s unnecessarily detailed request prolonged the interaction. I wrote: “Always be diligent and work hard.” After placing a neat period at the end, I capped the pen and handed it back, but then something unexpected happened.

 

  “Wow, this is amazing.”

 

  “He’s really here. He must still live around here.”

 

  Hearing the murmurs, I turned my head to the right. That’s when I saw it – a smartphone camera pointed in my direction. Before I realized, students who were on their way home began to gather around.

 

  Why didn’t I think that giving an autograph on the street would naturally draw attention?

 

  If I truly became a public figure, this was a scene I’d have to get used to, so I wasn’t overly bothered. But at the moment, my body was overheated with a mix of fever and irritation, and my path to the hospital was completely blocked. It was undoubtedly an inconvenient situation. In haste, I pulled up my mask as high as it could go and lowered my head.

 

  “I need to get through.”

 

  “Can I get an autograph too?”

 

  I wished I could simply disappear, but one should never underestimate the agility of growing teenagers. Giving an autograph wasn’t usually a hassle, but at the moment, it was. Ideally, I would’ve liked to hand out queue numbers and tell them to come find me after I’d recovered from my cold, but I couldn’t be so audacious.

 

  “Senior.”

 

  Suddenly, a hand reached out and grabbed my arm. Startled, I turned, and it wasn’t the junior who had pestered me for an autograph, but Jigu. He was in his neat school uniform, presumably just out of school, carrying a rather heavy-looking backpack.

 

  “I’ll just pass through now since it’s a bit difficult.”

 

  Jigu calmly made way by pushing the students back, creating a path for me. Those blocking the way didn’t approach any further. It seemed they didn’t need an autograph from someone who wasn’t even an idol badly enough to lose their senses over it.

 

  Once out of the crowd, Jigu cautiously let go of my arm. My body, suddenly free, felt aimless and swayed. Jigu, seemingly taken aback by my sudden lurch, quickly steadied me.

 

  “Are you alright?”

 

  “Huh?”

 

  “We should probably get to a hospital first.”

 

  He hadn’t even touched my forehead. If he could tell just by looking at me, I must’ve looked pretty terrible. Why hadn’t anyone else noticed earlier? Even the junior, who had been laughing gleefully right in front of my face, hadn’t picked up on the fact that I was ill.

 

  “I was heading to the hospital. Didn’t realize it was school letting-out time.”

 

  I had always avoided contact with students from the same school, even taking walks only at night. I exhaled the breath I’d been holding and yanked my mask down to my chin. Suddenly, the air felt stifling.

 

  “Do students at the school really talk about me a lot?”

 

  Unintentionally, I blurted out the question to Jigu, recalling what the junior had said to me earlier. Despite the seemingly out-of-the-blue query, Jigu calmly replied without questioning back.

 

  “Yes. They know you’re an alumnus of our school, and they often ask me what you’re like in person.”

 

  Why would they ask about my real-life appearance? I was about to laugh when Jigu made an unexpected comment.

 

  “I really love your dance, senior.”

 

  “Why do you say that every day?”

 

  “Your dance lines are great, and so is your facial expression when you perform.”

 

  Caught off guard by the sudden stream of compliments, I waved my hand dismissively, urging him to stop. He wasn’t some praise machine, but he never missed an opportunity to confess his admiration for my dancing.

 

  “Whether you got into the university you wanted or not, your dancing hasn’t changed. Just seeing you back on stage is already impressive.”

 

  Ah, since he’s from the same school, he must know about my practical exam mishap. He was probably trying to comfort me due to his kind nature. His earnest expression, as if he wanted to hold both of my hands, brought questions to the tip of my tongue. But I refrained from asking, primarily because that one statement had eased my previous melancholy.

 

  His round eyes stared intently at me. Facing that neat face, my throat tightened.

 

  What’s so big about college anyway? The reputation of a school doesn’t dictate my worth. Why had I felt that way back then? Why had I despised myself so much? Placing expectations on oneself was easy, but living up to them was incredibly challenging.

 

  “…Senior?”

 

  I was crying now, not because I was emotionally overwhelmed, but because of the headache, the rising fever, and the sudden surge of unwarranted emotions. When the body is sick, it seems the mind weakens too. My carefully concealed past feelings were abruptly exposed by a sudden bout of the cold.

 

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