Episode 146: The Madman with Clear Eyes (1)
To me, the stage had been the most precious thing in existence.
Even after I gave up on the absurd dream of making Zia come back—the biggest reason I decided to debut—I never once considered retirement. That was because I knew all too well that I was the kind of person who literally couldn’t live without the stage.
Of course, that’s all in the past tense now.
Having come back to the past and fixed the wrongly buttoned shirt of my life, the stage was no longer the single most important thing in my existence.
‘That doesn’t mean the stage has become unimportant, though.’
I never let that stage slip from my hands.
No—in fact, I clung to it even harder, refusing to let it leave me. That was how I ended up winning a Grammy and, because of it, came back to the past in the first place.
Ah, of course, that’s just my own headcanon.
Even if Einstein came back to life, he probably couldn’t explain the mysterious miracle of regression. I decided to think of it as the fulfillment of a promise to grant a wish.
‘That doesn’t make any sense either, though.’
Whatever.
No matter what anyone says, there’s no logic to this story anyway. It’s not like a status window popped up or quests appeared like in those typical web novels. So isn’t it fine if I just think whatever I want?
Anyway, this isn’t an absolute issue—it’s a relative one.
The portion it occupies in my heart has shrunk a little, that’s all. But strangely enough, the feeling of cherishing the stage itself feels even stronger now than it did before regression.
If the stage ever got in the way of protecting the thing I treasure most right now, I could turn my back on it without a second thought. But unless it came to that extreme, I didn’t want to let go of the stage either.
In that sense, it was truly fortunate that the two could coexist perfectly.
The person I treasure most in the world becomes happy seeing me on stage, and she wants to keep seeing me like this in the future.
Even if that stage is the smallest possible thing.
Even if it’s just a fleeting fragment in a fictional world, over in less than thirty seconds.
I pour everything into this overflowing spotlight.
I know that the moment when cheers and applause pour down on me after finishing a song always feels fresh and thrilling, no matter how many times it happens.
“Wow! Insane! Shooting star can change this much?”
“Man, a real singer really is on another level.”
Amid the excited conversation between the hyped-up Choi Do-hoon and a famous camera director whose name I didn’t know but whose face I recognized, I subtly glanced around beyond the applause of the other staff.
‘Hmm…’
Unfortunately, the person who had become even more precious than the stage—Zia—was nowhere to be seen.
For someone like me, who could spot Zia even in a massive concert venue filled with tens of thousands of people, the fact that I couldn’t see her here could only mean one thing: Zia wasn’t present.
‘Can’t be helped, I guess.’
It must mean she has something important enough that she had to skip watching my stage.
I didn’t know what it was, but since I was only here to work, I couldn’t exactly throw a tantrum just because Zia wasn’t around.
“Do-hoon-ssi, I thought you sang really well too, but next to a real singer, there’s no comparison.”
“Of course, Director! Obviously! You can’t compare someone like me, a total newbie, to that!”
“Hey, ‘newbie’? Your word choice is something else.”
Leaving behind Choi Do-hoon—who didn’t mind putting himself down while openly showing his excited fanboy energy—I walked over to PD Seo Dan-woo. Trying my best to hide the disappointment that settled in my chest like dry-ice fog, I asked,
“How was it?”
I already knew it was a question that didn’t really need an answer.
Even without Choi Do-hoon’s over-the-top reaction, the city-pop (strictly speaking, city pop isn’t a genre, but anyway) arranged version of Shooting star I’d made for the Team Y kids was a work that could stand on its own as something different from the original.
It actually suited current trends even better than the original, so I was confident PD Seo Dan-woo would like it—even if he wasn’t particularly into music.
But PD Seo Dan-woo’s reply came in a form I hadn’t expected at all.
“You know, I never realized how fortunate it was that Yujin-ssi isn’t someone greedy for acting roles.”
“…Sorry?”
What’s with this reaction?
I could tell that PD Seo Dan-woo’s words were something close to the highest praise—basically saying my talent was too good to be wasted on not being a singer.
But then why was he making that slightly troubled face while giving me such rave reviews?
PD Seo Dan-woo, who had just planted this unexpected question in my mind, soon provided the answer himself.
“At first you showed an unbelievably good performance, then you immediately crashed and burned. And now you’re suddenly showing me this perfect version of Ho-yeol again. If there were an actor on set who kept putting the director on such a rollercoaster, I’d probably wake up every morning with a stomachache. Today I wouldn’t even know whether to gather or scatter.”
“Ahaha…”
There was a bit of a dig mixed in, but since I had no intention of pursuing acting anyway, it didn’t really bother me.
Setting that aside, the fact remained that this was ultimately extreme praise for my singing.
“The intro part is great, the sabi section is great, and that part where the notes shoot up in the climax is great too. Every single part feels usable, so it’s actually making me worry more. It’s such a shame we only have about 30 seconds. Honestly, I’d love to just keep the whole thing as is.”
When I gave an awkward laugh at that, PD Seo Dan-woo added something that was hard to tell whether it was a feedback.
He probably knew himself that this was the kind of happy that came from having too many good options—compared to having nothing usable at all.
Maybe that’s why he seemed to momentarily forget that there was still one more issue hanging over him.
‘There’s still one more song left.’
The one I improvised right here on the spot.
It wasn’t even close to finished in terms of detailed work; I had to sing it a cappella with nothing but the melody in my head. In terms of completion, it couldn’t compare to the current Shooting star—but from PD Seo Dan-woo’s perspective, this one was probably far more appealing.
As someone who also carried the burden of creation, there was no way he could refuse a derivative work inspired by his own creation—a gift like that.
So just as I opened my mouth to remind him of it—
“Huu… Thank god Shim writer stepped away for a bit, seriously…”
PD Seo Dan-woo’s small mutter reached my ears faintly.
‘Come to think of it, earlier too…’
I remembered that when Choi Do-hoon had dragged me toward the waiting room earlier, PD Seo Dan-woo had muttered something similar.
I hadn’t paid much attention then, but hearing it a second time made it feel different.
“Why is it good that the writer isn’t here?”
“Ah, it’s… nothing much. It’s not something Yujin-ssi needs to worry about. Oh, right—there’s still one more song, isn’t there? My concern just got a little deeper. Haha.”
Unfortunately, the angelic PD in front of me—who had so far resolved most of the questions he himself had raised—clearly had no intention of doing so this time.
It was blatantly obvious he was changing the subject,
“Then I’ll prepare for the next song right away.”
But since the direction he’d steered toward was the very topic I’d brought up myself, I had no choice but to let it slide.
No matter how much of a rookie PD Seo Dan-woo was on his debut project, I was still close to a newcomer myself, so I couldn’t exactly pry persistently even if I wanted to.
‘Why though? Why is it fortunate that the writer’s gone?’
Stepping back like that, I mulled over the massively swollen question while preparing for the song.
A strangely unpleasant sense of déjà vu wrapped around me.
I didn’t know why, but it felt like just one more tiny clue would let me understand the reason—yet the answer remained frustratingly out of reach, that kind of déjà vu.
“Ha. A cappella, an improvised song…! Should I buy a lotto ticket on the way home today? I’m riding the lucky streak hard, aren’t I?”
Unfortunately, I didn’t have the luxury of digging deeper into that déjà vu.
Because Choi Do-hoon was leading the charge, along with countless others whose expectations I myself had ignited—all their gazes were fixed on me.
‘For now… let’s finish this first and think about it later.’
Once I made up my mind like that, I suddenly understood PD Seo Dan-woo’s earlier dig-laced praise even more.
How neatly my inner state organized itself, like flipping a switch on and off.
If my acting talent had been even half as good as my singing, I might’ve become another all-round entertainer in the lineage of Ji Sehyuk and Lee Ahjeong.
***
Singing a cappella isn’t actually as difficult as people think.
Let me brag a little while I’m at it: at my level, I have most instruments stored away in my head.
If combining a base melody had been that hard, I wouldn’t have been called a genius in the first place.
In-ear? In-ears are just there to help, anyway.
‘The real problem was actually the lyrics.’
No matter how heavenly my talent might be, fitting lyrics to a melody in such a short amount of time isn’t easy at all.
The only reason I was able to pull off something that difficult was because there had been more than enough motif to create this melody in the first place.
Whoever that writer was, they were probably a genius in their own right.
Just thinking about the narrative of 1 Hit Lover made the lyrics come together almost instantly.
‘Well, it’s only the first verse, though.’
For now, this much should be enough.
The bridge part is completely empty, but anyway, the only parts needed right now are the verse and the chorus.
For the final chorus—the climax—I can just reuse the lyrics from the first verse without any major issues.
“Then I’ll get started.”
With those words, I lightly closed my eyes and focused, letting the interlude melody begin playing in my head. Because of that, I didn’t immediately notice the anomaly happening on set.
Of course, there was no way I could avoid noticing, whether I wanted to or not.
“…”
“Kyaaaaah!”
The moment the melody in my mind reached the verse, a single scream clamped over my mouth like a hand.
Startled, I opened my eyes and turned toward where the scream had come from. Three silhouettes stood framed in the wide-open doorway, backlit by the light pouring in.
It was backlighting, but the set wasn’t dark inside, so recognizing their faces wasn’t difficult at all.
The one on the far right was Choi Si-yeon, who had left earlier looking perfectly satisfied.
The one on the far left was Zia—the very person whose absence had left me feeling a little disappointed.
And the one in the middle was…
‘Who?’
Judging by how she had both hands spread wide and brought them up near her mouth, it was clear this plain-faced woman was the source of that scream…
Once the anomaly began, it surged forward at breakneck speed, not giving me any time to think further.
In other words…
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap!
Even in a frilled skirt that reached her ankles, she somehow didn’t trip at all. She dashed forward in a frantic rush and reached me in an instant.
“Oh my god… you were here… you were right here…! I looked everywhere and couldn’t find you…!”
Not only had she barged in front of the cameras—she grabbed both my hands tightly and spoke those words, her eyes the very definition of the madman with clear eyes.
‘What the hell, why isn’t anyone stopping her?’
Why were the other people just standing there watching this scene?
And in the middle of all this, why did this crazy woman’s face feel strangely familiar?
There were countless things about this situation that made no sense, but above all, what I couldn’t understand the most was,
“Um, first, could you let go of my hand for a second…”
No matter how hard I tried to pull away, she absolutely refused to release me—her grip was downright insane.
I hadn’t neglected my workouts at all, so why couldn’t I free my hand from this seemingly frail woman?
But there was no time to dwell on that question.
Because right now, the fact that I was standing here holding hands with some random woman was clearly visible to Zia’s eyes.
“Calm down.”
The one who belatedly came to my rescue was, ironically, Choi Si-yeon—the person who seemed to have brought this clear-eyed madwoman here in the first place.
“Yujin-ssi is clearly uncomfortable. Let go of his hand first and then talk, Writer-nim.”
“But Si-yeon-ssi…! Ho-yeol… Ho-yeol is right here…!”
And as their conversation continued, a voice buried deep in my memories suddenly surfaced.
“Our Writer Shim… even now she’s like this, but back then she was incredibly resolute too. Can you believe it? They offered her a 16-episode slot, but she turned it down because there wasn’t an actor she liked for the second male lead? And she was a rookie writer who hadn’t even debuted yet? But she actually did it. Writer-nim did.”
And that voice swept away the fog that had been covering the two strands of déjà vu in one clean stroke.
“I still remember the name of that second male lead character. Ho-yeol. Writer Shim loved that character Ho-yeol so much. So much so that she scrapped the entire narrative around him and rewrote the script as a one-act play.”
“In the end, she proved with her own body that it was something like a craftsman’s pride… But even now, I’m still a little curious. What if, back then, an actor who really suited Writer Shim’s taste had appeared and performed that script properly? How fun would it have been? Now that the role is too young for her age-wise, there’s a lot of lingering regret in that sense. For the work called 1 Hit Lover.”
But now that the truth hidden in that fog had been cleanly revealed, it wasn’t exactly a welcome feeling.
‘This isn’t good…’
For some reason, I had a strong premonition that this clear-eyed madwoman—no, this writer who would become a big name in the future—wouldn’t let me go so easily.
And I was starting to understand, at least a little, why PD Seo Dan-woo had called her absence such a blessing.
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TL Note:
This novel has been completed.
Chapters 147–178 are available on My Patreon (Premium Tier) together with 5 other novels.
Link: https://www.patreon.com/cw/Vritratls
[This series is in the “Regressed Idol” collection]
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