translation by mourningmoor
“Dance classes?”
Director Gong Seokho, who had called me aside, made a suggestion I hadn’t expected.
“Right now, only Roa and Jaewon are taking them, but I was hoping you’d join as well.”
I knew Roa and Jaewon were receiving separate dance lessons from Ji Youngjun ssaem.
But to tell me to join them?
This was getting increasingly annoying.
“Are you planning to recruit me into the dance line?”
“Yeah.”
Director Gong Seokho nodded with a faint smile, radiating an overwhelming sense of 《endless anticipation》.
“I don’t want to.”
“…What?”
Judging by his reaction, it seemed he expected me to jump at the opportunity, excitedly agreeing on the spot.
At my rejection, the bandit-like face crumpled.
T.N.: "A face like a bandit's." describes someone with a rough, rugged, or intimidating appearance, resembling a bandit or outlaw.
I looked at Director Gong Seokho and explained my reasoning with a nonchalant expression.
“I already have a lot on my plate, and I don’t see the point of taking separate lessons from Youngjun ssaem. Besides, there’s no particular appeal to it.”
I know Ji Youngjun ssaem is excellent, but I’ve already absorbed enough through Media Acquisition to cover that level.
If Gong Seokho himself were teaching, maybe. But dance classes with Ji Youngjun?
That’s a waste of time.
“You’re saying there’s no merit to the dance class?”
Director Gong Seokho’s expression darkened.
Even without activating my Heart’s Resonance, I could practically hear him thinking, “What an insolent brat.”
“I’m already attending plenty of lessons with Youngjun ssaem.”
And now he wants me to make extra time to endure that overbearing gaze?
No way. Absolutely not.
“I’d rather spend that time doing another workout…”
“What if I teach you myself?”
“You, director?”
Oh, now this was unexpected.
If Gong Seokho himself were teaching, not only would I benefit, but Roa and the youngest would get a lot out of it too.
“I’m willing to teach you personally.”
I hesitated briefly.
I wondered if I really needed to go such lengths just to dip my feet into these waters.
T.N.: "Should I dip my feet" or "Do I need to get involved?" (can also be figurative, meaning "to get involved in something.")
“Well…”
But achieving my short-term goals leaves me with no choice.
“If you’re offering, then sure.”
To produce the best music video and implant fresh memories into the company staff’s heads, taking Gong Seokho’s classes was the right call.
“Let’s do it.”
Hearing my agreement, Director Gong finally smiled.
“Great. Then we’ll schedule lessons after the music video shoot.”
“No? That won’t work.”
What was he even saying? Schedule lessons after the music video shoot?
What’s the point of taking lessons once the shoot is over?
The music video shoot is what’s urgent right now.
I pushed Director Gong back with a serious face.
“Let’s start today. Immediately.”
* * *
Director Gong said that due to Dinaple’s tight choreography schedule, it would be difficult to fit in lessons immediately.
So, I asked him to make time—even if it had to be at dawn. I explained that I wanted to pick up even the smallest tips before the music video shoot.
That seemed to resonate with him.
Director Gong, whose rugged face resembled that of a mountain bandit, broke into a grin and readily agreed.
“Art Bunny will probably love this.”
Roa would likely be over the moon.
Of course, the youngest Bunny on a sugar high would be sulking with a scowl.
Imagining the kids’ reactions, I left the company.
If I’m going to whip them into shape at dawn, I’ll need to feed them something first.
The sky was overcast, as if it might rain at any moment, as I walked outside. Looking up at the cloudy sky, I thought of home.
“On days like this, you need something spicy.”
Walking slowly, I pulled out my phone to search the internet.
This world lacks magic but has something called science, and among its many wonders, the best are mobile phones and the internet.
Just like the magical library of Parapara, this little device contains endless information.
“Best food for a rainy day…”
I decided to look up dishes suitable for a rainy evening.
“Pajeon and makgeolli?”
T.N.: Pajeon is a Korean savory pancake made with green onions (scallions) and often other ingredients like seafood or vegetables. While makgeolli a traditional Korean rice wine with a slightly sweet and tangy flavor, often paired with pajeon, especially on rainy days.
Starting with alcohol? Unfortunately, Kang Ichan is still a minor.
Regretfully, I had to pass.
“Kalguksu, sujebi… Flour-based dishes. Pass.”
“…Dakbokkeumtang?”
T.N.: Kalguksu is a traditional Korean noodle dish made with hand-cut wheat flour noodles served in a light and savory broth. Commonly, the broth is made from anchovies, kelp, or chicken, and it is often garnished with vegetables and sometimes clams or zucchini, with the noodles being soft and chewy, and the broth usually mild yet flavorful.
Sujebi is another wheat flour-based dish, sujebi consists of hand-torn dough pieces cooked in a broth similar to that of kalguksu. The dish is rustic and comforting, often including potatoes, zucchini, and other vegetables. The dough pieces are chewy, and the broth is hearty.
Dakbokkeumtang is a spicy Korean chicken stew made with chunks of chicken, potatoes, carrots, and onions, simmered in a sauce made of gochugaru (Korean chili flakes), gochujang (chili paste), soy sauce, garlic, and sugar. The dish is rich, spicy, and slightly sweet, with tender chicken and vegetables.
I got hungry explaining the dishes…
The moment I clicked on the photo of the bright red stew that looked appetizing.
Someone called my name from across the street.
“Kang Ichan.”
Though still unfamiliar, my name felt oddly familiar now. I turned my head, only to see a familiar face grinning and walking toward me.
It was him—MuteSeven’s Wooyoung.
That guy with a pale face, like he’d been licked by a dog, and a deer-like expression.
A truly pitiful face.
Since he called me by my name, I suppose I should return the courtesy.
“MuteSeven Wooyoung.”
I glanced away and resumed walking.
Wooyoung quickly caught up and walked alongside me.
“Hey, when you see someone, shouldn’t you at least greet them? What’s wrong with your manners?”
“Did you greet me? I don’t think you did.”
Wooyoung appeared in Kang Ichan’s diary exactly twice.
Out of that massive diary, only twice. That means he’s not a significant character—just someone slightly annoying.
“I just did. ‘Hey, Kang Ichan!’ Like that.”
“Then I greeted you too. Exactly like you did.”
Stopping in my tracks, I gave Wooyoung a cold look.
“‘MuteSeven Wooyoung,’ see?”
“Ugh, you crazy bastard.”
Wooyoung’s face twisted in disbelief before he forced a smile as if to play it cool.
But I could feel his emotions clearly: 《disbelief》, 《embarrassment》, 《nervousness》, and 《anger》 all mixed together.
Then he had the audacity to provoke me again.
“You guys haven’t debuted yet, right?”
This jerk—does he have an inferiority complex about Kang Ichan or something? Why else would he act like this?
Ignoring him, I continued walking.
“Breaking away like that... Tsk. You’re pitiful.”
I arrived at the grocery store, one block from the company. Ignoring Wooyoung’s words, I picked up a yellow shopping basket and entered the store.
To my surprise, Wooyoung followed me inside.
Whether he realizes he’s a debuting idol or not.
His loud voice echoed through the store, making an unnecessary scene.
“Hey, are you insignificant even in L.I.T? No one notices you, huh?”
“…”
“Come on, who’d pay attention to someone like you? A stray dog HS picked up and threw away.”
Ugh. This guy—he’s not just a jerk; he’s also an idiot.
Please, be aware of your position. Seriously.
“MuteSeven Wooyoung.”
“…?”
When I suddenly stopped and turned to face him, his pale face, with its large, deer-like eyes, blinked slowly. A startled deer.
“Do they sell just chicken thighs here?”
“Usually, yeah?”
“Where would they be?”
Scanning the refrigerated section, Wooyoung picked up a pack of chicken thighs.
“Here.”
“Oh, thanks.”
Taking the pack of chicken thighs from him, I casually tossed it into my basket and moved to the vegetable aisle.
Behind me, Wooyoung’s angry voice echoed through the store.
“Hey, you crazy jerk!”
Soon after, he hurriedly followed, now wearing his sunglasses.
“What the hell are you doing? Are you messing with me?”
Seeing him grit his teeth and speak quietly, it seems like he's finally showing some awareness of his status as an idol.
“Can’t you tell? I’m shopping.”
“Ha, this crazy bastard.”
As I added potatoes, carrots, green onions, garlic, and other ingredients to my basket, Wooyoung didn’t stop talking.
“Sure, shop all you want. But why the hell are you asking me about it?”
His chatter grew louder as he followed me closely.
“And seriously, is now the time to shop? You’re on the brink of disbanding without even setting foot on stage!”
His constant prattling, combined with his emotional state, was giving me a headache.
《Anticipation》, 《excitement》, 《nervousness》, and 《delight》… This pervert.
“Your CEO must have begged TVH to help you out. Just take the offer already.”
I’d had enough.
“Hey.”
Stopping again, I turned to face him.
Wooyoung’s face lit up with a flush of excitement, misinterpreting my reaction.
Such a simple, transparent person.
“What laundry detergent do you use?”
His reaction was probably not what he’d hoped for, but he obediently picked a bottle off the shelf.
“Me? This one.”
“Okay. Got it.”
I grabbed the detergent from his hands and tossed it into my basket. Once again, Wooyoung exploded.
“Hey! Kang Ichan!”
His face flushed red with anger, and he yanked off his sunglasses again.
Without a word, I simply smiled at him and headed straight to the counter.
When you really look at him, he’s an amusing guy. Quick to flare up, quick to burn, and quick to forget. He’s like a pot.
“Y-you, y-you, you bastard, what do you take me for?”
In the end, Wooyoung followed me all the way to the counter and grabbed my arm.
"If I go out of my way to tell you all sorts of things, shouldn't you at least pretend to listen? And be grateful while you're at it."
His voice was pretty loud.
If he drew attention, he'd have more to lose than I would.
I’m a nobody in the world, but it’s different for this guy.
He’s already performed on stage multiple times, has a fan club, and now there's a chance this scene could be captured in a photo.
Sure enough, amidst the people starting to notice us, I could see students raising their phones.
"Oh, thank you."
I didn’t bother forcing a bright smile.
Of course, I didn’t scowl either.
I just smiled faintly, as if slightly troubled, and played it off like it was just an ordinary moment in my day.
Then, in a very small voice, I asked,
"Happy now?"
Still oblivious to the atmosphere around us, the guy approached with a menacing energy, as if he was about to hit someone.
"Hey!"
To him, I whispered just loud enough for him to hear, but not anyone else.
"But is that really for me? It's for you, isn't it?"
Then, with a sharper edge to my voice, I added,
"You just want me to go out there and be your doormat. Isn't that what you're really saying?"
The idiot sneered with a sour laugh, mocking me.
"Wow, I thought you were just dumb, but turns out you're pretty sharp, huh?"
His face was full of arrogance, and he even laughed as if he were in a great mood.
A guy with no middle ground.
"That's right. I'm telling you to show your face on TV, even if it's like that, you idiot."
Then, without a hint of fear, he casually patted my shoulder twice.
"That way, your mother living out in the boondocks will know you're still alive."
A remote mountain village, Kang Ichan's mother.
Right. That guy, he had a mother.
Maybe it’s because traces of him still linger in this body, but just hearing the word "mother" sent a sharp pang through a corner of my heart.
For someone like me, who lost my parents at a very young age, it was a feeling I had never experienced before.
“You care about me that much, huh.”
But I couldn’t afford to be swept away by such emotions.
Now was the time to focus on getting things done to achieve my goals.
“How should I even begin to thank you?”
I leaned in close to his face, twisting my lips into a smirk.
Because I had just come up with a second short-term goal.
"Kim Wooyoung."
For the first time, I properly called his name.
He looked visibly startled.
"Would you like to make a bet?"
"A bet?"
"Whoever wins on the show gets their wish granted."