I Couldn't Tell You Who It Was

“Did you find anything?” I asked.

Goyeon was inspecting the instruments hanging from the wall. Shining the light on the instruments from afar, she didn’t seem to be searching for anything in particular. She didn’t respond properly to my questions before her flashlight stopped at a guitar that was broken in half.

A tan acoustic guitar—it was so commonplace. Every guy who went to university probably had touched one at least once.

“…Could I ask you something?” Goyeon’s flashlight was still shining on the guitar as she turned around to look at me.

I peered at her rigid face and shrugged. “I was waiting for you to say something at some point. What did you want to ask me?”

Wasn’t that the whole point of her following me downstairs? After all, she had avoided eye contact with me up to now. I also had things to ask her.

It occurred to me that, maybe, the reason she came here despite not liking the theme of this shoot was to meet me once more. The only reason that a small-time actress would meet me, who had little connection with the entertainment world, would be…

“Yeonseon ended up like that, but how could you shamelessly show your face on TV?”

…Yeonseon.

I pointed my flashlight down to the floor. She continued, “I don’t believe in ghosts. But didn’t Yeonseon die because of an unfortunate accident? It hasn’t been that long since he died, yet his self-proclaimed friend is selling Yeonseon’s name to appear on a talk show. Moreover, didn’t you stand in Yeonseon’s way in advancing his career before? With some lame ghost story or whatnot.”

Among the people in this industry, rarely anyone remembered my name. In some cases, people remembered me like Woorim, who claimed they were my fan, or in cases where horror-obsessed people rewatched the video of me and Yeonseon in the recording room. Finally, there were cases where the person was Yeonseon’s fan.

The ones who liked and cared for Yeonseon all abhorred me. The recording room story was the first reason, the second reason was the sudden solo debut preparation due to the first reason, and the third reason was the rumors that spread after Yeonseon’s accident.

I sympathized because, even though I was hated so much, Yeonseon thought of me fondly and put in my name at the end of every album he released.

After last week’s talk show aired, there would be one more reason to hate me. I was the heinous villain who used his dead friend’s name to go on air. I couldn’t help but smile bitterly.

It finally made sense to me why she burst out into tears that day. Ironically, it was similar to why I went to Hyehyun saying that I wanted to go on television again.

…Because we felt sorry for Yeonseon, because we liked Yeonseon, and because we missed Yeonseon.

“…I see you liked Yeonseon.” I had nothing else to say. I was weak to those who truly cared for Yeonseon. To be exact, I didn’t want to get into conflict with them. I was envious of those who could cherish the memory of Yeonseon’s death purely from the bottom of their hearts—that was why they were so dear to me.

As she glared at the guitar on the wall, Goyeon said, “At first I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the list of guests. I thought, ‘It couldn’t be. It must be a different person. He knows that he would get swept away in gossip if he appeared.’ No, I guess becoming the talk of the town is your choice, so I won’t stop you. Since whatever people say, they would be insulting you anyway.”

Now that I thought about it, that year when he won the newcomer award, Yeonseon released a song for his fans. The song was a tranquil ballad with an acoustic guitar melody. From his debut song to his songs dedicated to fans, I didn’t miss a single stage, so I remembered.

Part of the lyrics surfaced in my memory. It was about pouring in the sunlight and snowflakes in a rose made of diamond dust and sending that to “you” along with the breath of the moonlit forest. Even to me—and I couldn’t call myself a fan—when I heard it, it touched a corner of my heart. The lyrics were filled with such beautiful gratitude and affection that I felt my chest tighten.

“How was the fan song?” Yeonseon asked me.

I replied, “I liked it. I liked it so much that I felt like melting inside.” When he asked why it was just my insides and not my heart, I simply answered, “I don’t know.” I don’t know what kind of face he made at my indifferent reaction because it was a conversation over text.

However, I felt like it was better for me not to say that I was envious of his fans. At the time, I was trying my hardest to grow apart from Yeonseon.