How to Avoid Debut

Chapter 33

༺ How To Avoid Debut – 33 ༻

When I came to my senses, I was already in the hospital. The doctor told me I had a cold and fever, advising me to keep warm and diligently take the prescribed medication. As I clutched the crisp prescription, I went down to the pharmacy below, my eyes still hot and teary.

“Mr. Park Hahyun?”

“Yes.”

I had my head bowed, unable to face Jigu next to me, when Jigu suddenly stood up at the call of the pharmacist. Before I could stop him, Jigu was already listening to the pharmacist’s instructions. “Take it after meals in the morning, noon, and evening,” the pharmacist explained. Nodding a couple of times, Jigu took the bag of medicine and walked towards me.

“Take it 30 minutes after your meal.”

“Ah, okay.”

I took the plastic bag containing the medicine and stood up from the chair immediately. I didn’t understand why my emotions had exploded so suddenly. Maybe it was because of the upcoming college entrance exams, or meeting the junior, or perhaps the fever. My emotions were still in turmoil, and I felt heated, making it impossible to lift my head. We walked in silence until we found ourselves in front of my home.

I looked up at the apartment building and then glanced at Jigu standing firmly beside me. He remained still in the same spot without uttering a word even as our gazes met and shifted several times.

“Want to come in for a bit?”

“Huh?”

“Well, you’ve come all this way.”

I regretted speaking without thinking. I’m not someone who cries easily; I could count the times I cried on one hand since growing up. But just moments ago, I had cried in front of a junior who still used formal language with me, and all it took was a single compliment on my dance. We had spent the walk home in awkward silence, with me looking down the whole time. Why was I now inviting him in?

“Yes.”

Actually, you must be busy, you should go. I tried to change my mind, but his quick response stopped me. Side by side, Jigu and I entered the apartment building and pressed the elevator button.

Come to think of it, I wasn’t sure if there was any food at home. Had anything been left from a few days ago? Throughout the entire elevator ride, I kept pondering what I could offer him.

“I’ll wait here.”

“Why?”

As soon as we got out of the elevator, Jigu stood next to the main door, by the stairs leading down to the lower floor. When I asked him the reason, he looked at me as if it were obvious and responded, “I thought you might need some time to tidy up.” My friends always just barged into each other’s homes the moment the door opened; Jigu’s polite and patient demeanor was different.

“Just come in.”

Believing there wasn’t much to tidy up, I immediately invited Jigu inside as soon as I opened the door. I wasn’t the kind of person who carelessly left trash on the floor, and any clothes I might have discarded upon arriving home would have been cleaned up by the next day, so the floor should have been neat.

“Then, pardon the intrusion.”

Jigu carefully removed his shoes and entered. I directed him to sit on the sofa and immediately dashed to the refrigerator. Opening it with as much enthusiasm as possible, all I found inside were several bottles of water.

I should’ve listened when my older brother told me to stock up. I lamented my oversight, then remembered the drinks my brother mentioned were alcoholic. Even if I had them, they weren’t suitable to offer.

Usually, when someone comes over, you’d offer them a glass of juice or something similar. Staring hard at the transparent bottles filled with water, no magic occurred that transformed it into juice. Offering plain water seemed so… inadequate, like telling him to quench his thirst and settle down.

“Senior.”

“Huh? Do you want some cold water?”

“Excuse me?”

I hurriedly tried to shut my unwarranted blabbering, but it was clear Jigu had heard my loud and clear enunciation. As I had felt earlier, regretting something after the fact was futile. I was raising my hand, trying to brush off my words when our eyes met, and Jigu was smiling directly at me.

“I’d like some. I’m thirsty.”

He didn’t sound entirely sincere, but I still fetched a cup and poured water for him. Even though it was just plain water, Jigu drank it as if he was filming a commercial, gulping it down refreshingly.

Did he also practice for CF filming besides dance and singing? With that silly thought, I naturally took the emptied glass from him.

“I brought you here, but I don’t have any food. I’m not sure what to do, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like I came here to eat. But, Senior, please lie down for now.”

Jigu, who had been still while drinking water, suddenly rose from the sofa. When he gestured for me to change clothes, I hurriedly changed into something more comfortable, and led by his hand, I lay down on the bed.

This felt like he wasn’t my guest but someone who came to take care of me. With a kind demeanor, Jigu asked about the location of a towel, fetched a wet one, and placed it on my forehead. When he inquired if I had eaten, and I said I hadn’t, he gently pushed aside a small bag of medicine that was on the table.

If only there was something to eat, this awkwardness might have dissipated a little. I had cut off all communication with friends and lived alone in this desolate house; there wasn’t much to entertain a guest with. The only things I had were a laptop, a few books on a shelf, and a TV. Hoping to break the awkward silence with some TV noise, I looked around for the remote. Then, Jigu, who was right beside the bed, asked,

“Who put up that bromide there?”

“What bromi…”

My mouth, which was about to form a casual answer, suddenly froze. No way. Following Jigu’s finger pointing at the wall on the right, my gaze landed on a visible bromide poster. Though smaller in size compared to other bromides, it was not so small that the faces of the people in it were unrecognizable.

Why on earth did I confidently tell him to come in? It was clear that I had forgotten that poster was there. My face stiffened, and I forced an awkward smile, but Jigu spoke as if nothing was amiss.

“You look good in that. When was this taken?”

“That was during the Cool Sports promotional shoot…”

The situation was bizarre: Jigu asking so casually and me, hesitantly answering. Wouldn’t it be somewhat surprising? Most people are taken aback when they find out about male fans of male idols. I had never shown it off during my school days because of that. But Jigu’s remarkably calm reaction just made me blink in surprise. Then, he made his first confession.

“Actually, I saw you at your fan signing event.”

“What?”

My voice involuntarily rose in pitch. I suddenly sat up, almost dropping the wet towel. I thought I had been hiding it well, but I never imagined someone from school would be at a fan signing event. It didn’t seem likely Jigu would buy an album out of fandom, so it must’ve been because of his elder brother. So, he must’ve known from the start.

“I went because my brother told me to come once, and I saw someone in our school uniform.”

“To my surprise, it turned out to be you, senior. You were famous for just dancing, but I was surprised to see you had a favorite idol too.”

As Jigu seemed to reminisce, I turned my gaze to the bromide on the wall.

My sole hobby was something I found a bit difficult to share with my friends. The main reason was that my close friend despised NOBLE, mostly because his girlfriend was an initial fan of NOBLE’s debut.

Every time there was a comeback, he would complain about not being able to get in touch with her, and amidst the wave of agreement, I never could voice out, “I like them.” Even though I simply admired their dancing and singing, if someone mentioned they liked male idols, they would immediately hear strange comments. It would start with, “You have weird tastes.”

“They perform well on stage, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I also like NOBLE. I was envious of you being on stage, and you looked cool. You were so much better that I wanted to follow you. A guy can admire another male idol, right?”

His voice and expression seemed too mature for his age as he spoke quietly. Though he talked about wanting to follow someone he admired, just by listening to his voice, he sounded like someone who had already achieved a lot. He always seemed to have depth in what he said. Thinking about it, I understood why I felt like crying earlier when he comforted me.

“What’s in this box?”

Jigu, wanting to shift the topic away from NOBLE, grabbed a box protruding from under the bed. Within the large box, CDs were scattered haphazardly. They were the ones I had been obsessively playing a few days ago and hastily shoved back in.

“Those are recordings of the dances I’ve done till now.”

“So, you even have the ones from the competitions?”

Jigu, after picking up and putting down several CDs with dates written on post-it notes, suddenly asked with a gleaming face. It wasn’t as if he was literally glowing like a light bulb, but his eyes oddly sparkled.

“Can I watch one?”

“It’s nothing special. It’s just me throughout.”

“That’s fine.”

“Alright, go ahead then.” As soon as I gave permission, Jigu approached the CD player under the TV. The player ingested the CD with a whir, and after fiddling with the external input, there I was, displayed on the TV.

As the video began and the on-screen me started to move, I felt weird and turned my gaze to the wall. Watching it alone was one thing, but watching it with Jigu felt somewhat awkward.

“You’re going to watch all of it?”

While waiting for him to finish watching, I began fiddling with my phone, and it took longer than expected. I waited a good 30 minutes, harvesting all my crops, upgrading my farm, and waiting for an expansion to complete, yet the TV showed no signs of turning off.

Finally, in response to my earlier question, Jigu turned his head. Perhaps thinking I was hinting for him to turn it off, he promptly hit the power button on the remote and ejected the CD. Of course, I didn’t stop him. As soon as the TV went dark, Jigu approached me.

“If I admit I’m a bit excited and say I like it, you’ll tell me to stop, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then I won’t bother.”

Jigu, seemingly coolly giving up on confessing about his love for dance, plopped down on the floor. Isn’t it cold without the boiler on? Yet Jigu, still toying with the CD in his hand, didn’t seem cold.

“It’s getting late; are you okay not going home?”

“You should rest since you’re not feeling well, senior. I think I overstayed.”

“I initially came to just give you the wet towel. But I didn’t expect to discover such a treasure trove.” Jigu, smiling cheerfully, carefully placed the CD back into the box and picked up his backpack. Even on second glance, it seemed heavy. Wondering if he might catch my cold, I slightly adjusted the mask I’d been wearing and attempted to get up.

“You don’t have to get up. I can manage the front door. Take care.”

My intention to at least see him off was thwarted by Jigu’s overly considerate nature. The front door opened and closed, and in an instant, the warmth of the house seemed to escape with him. It had been quite some time since someone who wasn’t family had entered my home. Considering that I invited him in even while I was down with a cold, it seemed I was a bit lonely.

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TL/N: bromide poster – a category of commercial photographic portraits of celebrities including geisha, singers, actors and actresses of both stage and film, and sports stars so It’s not the bromide ion.

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