Chapter 8
In the end, we got back into the car again.
Of course, together with the trainees.
But their atmosphere was clearly different from before.
“Oppa! Your singing… wow, what was that? I was seriously shocked!”
Miren asked me in an unusually lively tone, completely different from her usual one.
Just from her way of speaking, it was obvious she wasn’t originally the quiet type. If I had to bet my hand on it, she was probably someone who talked a lot normally.
Anyway, it seemed like she’d been holding herself back from saying what she wanted all this time.
By the way, suddenly being called oppa made my head spin a little.
Of course, all four of them were much younger than me.
The leader, Mujin, was 22.
Juha and Miren were 21.
Serin was 20.
“I’m not that good. Singing has no end.”
Being a singer has no finish line.
There is no such thing as a peak.
There may be gods of wine, gods of the sea, and gods of soccer—but there is no god of singing.
Maybe that’s why, in every life I’ve lived, I kept longing to become a better singer… until the day I died.
“Oh please, stop pretending to be humble. I almost fainted earlier!”
At that moment, Mujin cut in.
“How did you sing like that and still keep a straight face for months? Anyway, that manager oppa definitely seems like he has some kind of story.”
Her words made me flinch slightly.
And now Mujin was calling me oppa too.
Her tone was still sharp as ever, but the hostility in it had clearly softened.
“Sigh… I guess we really can’t avoid getting involved with road managers. That’s just our fate.”
Mujin’s resigned comment stuck in my ears.
What was that supposed to mean?
Did something happen with their previous road manager?
Judging by how a girl this young was talking about fate and hardship, there had to be some story behind it.
Serin quickly scolded her in a flustered voice.
“Unni, why bring that up?”
“Oh, right. Why did I even say that… Just thinking about it makes me annoyed.”
Did they have some kind of trouble with their last road manager?
That was something I’d have to look into later.
Then Juha spoke.
“Oppa, your singing felt… unusual.”
“Unusual?”
“I mean, it’s not just that you’re good. It felt… different. Like it’s on another level entirely.”
Juha spoke softly and seriously.
Beside her, Miren’s bright voice chimed in.
“Right! I feel like I’ll never hear singing like that anywhere else! Seriously!”
Hearing something like that again after thirty years suddenly made me think of Siyeon.
She was the one who always gave me confidence and encouraged me…
I wonder where she is now.
I’d have to come up with some excuse and ask Director Choi Il-seon about her.
We arrived at the Reunion building.
After parking the car, we did the usual trainee drop-off routine.
This time, though, the girls looked a little awkward as they glanced at me one by one.
Guys, you don’t need to be like that. Let’s just act like before.
As soon as we stepped toward the entrance, Mujin spoke.
“So… we’re going to StarGrove, right?”
StarGrove was the company cafeteria on the third floor of the Reunion building.
“Yeah, unni!”
“Okay.”
Everyone seemed unusually cheerful today.
How nice it was seeing them talk together like this.
“Oppa! StarGrove is okay with you, right?”
Miren asked warmly. The more I saw her, the more she seemed like a genuinely friendly person.
“Of course. Food is food.”
Just as the five of us entered through the main doors, Team Leader Kim, who had been sitting in the lobby chairs, walked toward us.
It looked like he had been waiting, though his expression showed a hint of irritation.
“Hey, Yoon Jung-hoo. Because of you, I couldn’t even leave work. Why’d you have to go and do something unnecessary like that…?”
Let me be clear.
I wasn’t the one who wanted this either.
I just want to sing my own songs.
A singer isn’t supposed to teach someone else how to sing.
But his tone felt more like harmless complaining than real anger, so I replied casually.
“Yeah… things just sort of turned out this way.”
Team Leader Kim stepped closer and lowered his voice.
“First of all, I reserved a training room used by the New Artist Development Division. Security is better there. It’s Room 5 on the 13th floor. Here, the key.”
As I took the key card, he kept talking.
“I checked that there are no schedules there. If anyone comes in, just say Luminous is doing personal practice. I reserved it for today, so you can use it as long as you want.”
“Yes, Team Leader.”
He then called the Luminous members.
“Mujin! You girls going to the cafeteria now?”
“Yes.”
“Then go ahead first. I’ll send Jung-hoo up soon.”
The girls headed toward the elevator, and Kim pulled me aside to another corner of the lobby.
“Yoon Jung-hoo.”
“Yes?”
He looked down at the floor, his brows furrowed—a serious expression I’d never seen from him before.
About five seconds passed.
“I’ll be honest. I don’t know if this is the right thing to do.”
Yeah.
I didn’t know either.
“But your singing was incredible. And what you said earlier… it sounded pretty convincing too.”
It wasn’t just convincing—it was the truth.
Well, I suppose that’s just how he chooses to phrase it.
He continued.
“They’ve had it rough. The company poured a lot into them and made them top-tier, but you know the criticism about their singing, right? I tried everything I could, but nothing worked. They must be the most frustrated themselves.”
Since Kim had been with them since their trainee days, he must have gone through everything alongside them.
“Because of their singing, they’re too embarrassed to even read comments. Criticism about their vocals follows Luminous everywhere like a nickname. The director feels the same way, but I do too. I just want some kind of breakthrough.”
So he really cared about them.
“Jung-hoo, I’m asking you this as a favor. Please look after the girls. I never imagined I’d ask something like this from a road manager, but somehow… you feel like the last hope. If there’s anything I can help with, I will.”
Yeah.
This Team Leader Kim guy.
He may bark a lot, but he didn’t seem like a bad person.
“Well, I’m only helping temporarily until a proper trainer is found. But I’ll do what I can.”
“Alright. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Yes.”
“And if you slack off while teaching them, you know what happens, right? I’ll spread rumors that you’re an arrogant jerk so you can’t even set foot in this industry again!”
…What a terrible guy.
But there was a warm smile on his face as he said it.
Still, I felt relieved.
The people I’d met since yesterday all seemed decent.
Everyone except that murderer.
“Oh, and Director Choi might talk about you to the New Artist Development Division. He’ll probably tell you directly, but I thought you should know.”
“What? I already declined that earlier.”
As expected of Choi Il-seon.
His unstoppable drive was impossible to deal with.
“He’s always been like that. Once he decides something, he doesn’t care what others think…”
Yeah.
I know that very well.
“…You’re not seriously someone who has no intention of becoming a singer, right?”
“Well… it’s not exactly that. It’s a bit complicated.”
“What’s complicated about it? Hmm… well, I guess there must be something complicated if someone who sings like you is working as a road manager. Alright. Tell me about it when you get the chance. For now, go upstairs and eat!”
“Yes, I’ll head up.”
Because of the lingering aftereffects of my possession, I couldn’t properly say what I wanted.
And before I knew it, I’d been dragged into something completely unexpected.
Honestly, if everyone had been terrible people, it would’ve been easier on me.
But when they treated me like this, it suddenly felt like a heavy responsibility.
Serin had always seemed kind, but now that I looked closer, Mujin and the others also seemed like good kids with their own stories.
StarGrove was on the third floor.
Most company cafeterias are usually located in the basement, but Reunion had placed theirs on the third floor.
Because of that, the atmosphere was always bright, and there wasn’t the usual greasy cafeteria smell.
It was a buffet-style cafeteria divided into several sections so people could choose meals suited to their needs.
There was even a low-carb section, likely for idols and trainees.
As I held my plate and looked around deciding what to eat, Serin waved brightly from a slightly secluded table.
The four members had already grabbed their food and sat down.
When our eyes met, she pointed down at their table.
That meant I should bring my food there.
Honestly, I prefer eating alone.
Of course, eating with close people is nice.
But when you eat with people you’re still awkward with, it’s hard to focus on the food.
Should I just eat somewhere else?
Ah…
Right.
This is what people these days call being an “introvert loner.”
I grabbed some random dishes and headed toward their corner table.
The members had chosen that table because it attracted less attention.
Although asking artists for autographs was forbidden for Reunion employees, some still tried to sneak requests during meals.
Usually claiming a relative was a fan.
A nephew, sister, brother, mom, dad, great-grandfather, the neighbor’s cousin’s in-law… well, something like that.
Refusing felt awkward, so artists usually had no choice but to sign.
It could be surprisingly distracting while eating.
There was also the occasional sudden question from visiting reporters.
It didn’t happen often, but it was possible.
That’s why most Reunion artists chose secluded tables even in the company cafeteria.
Meals should at least be comfortable.
“Oppa, over here.”
The friendly Miren pointed to the empty seat in front of her.
As soon as I sat down, the usual conversation started.
But seeing them so bright—something that didn’t exist even in Yoon Jung-hoo’s past memories—made me feel good.
When I first possessed this body yesterday, everything felt heavy and uncertain.
I never expected I’d be having such a pleasant meal just one day later.
But soon Siyeon came to mind again.
Maybe that’s why I suddenly felt guilty about being this cheerful.
My expression must have darkened, because Mujin’s sharp voice rang out.
“Oh? Look at this oppa suddenly getting serious. His face changed instantly. Hmm… I told you he has some kind of story.”
“Unni, why are you making a big deal out of nothing? People’s expressions change all the time.”
Good job, Juha.
She saved me.
But Mujin wasn’t wrong either.
Mujin, leader of Luminous.
Sharp.
At that moment, a group of girls greeted us.
“Oh my! Hello, sunbaenims!”
The tone sounded polite… yet strangely loaded.
Who were they?
Yoon Jung-hoo’s memories instantly resurfaced.
A three-member rookie girl group under Reunion.
Shuhami.
A vocal-focused group created as an experimental attempt to target a niche market.
Thanks to Reunion’s powerful promotion, they were gaining pretty good attention.
If I remembered correctly, they were around Mujin’s age, maybe slightly older.
“Oh, hello juniors!”
The cheerful Miren responded first.
But the Luminous members didn’t look pleased.
“We just came back from recording in the studio. It took us a whole hour to record one song.”
The girl speaking smugly was their leader—Hyemin, if I remembered right.
One hour?
That was incredibly fast.
And they were a group, not even a solo recording.
Usually recording a single song takes at least three to four hours, sometimes an entire day.
Sometimes even several days.
So that was clearly a disguised jab.
Just hearing that one sentence, I immediately understood why the trainees looked annoyed.
“Still, Director Min said recording with us is really easy. I was so grateful.”
I suddenly remembered that Luminous had once taken up to ten days to finish recording a single song.
Of course the studio staff would have struggled alongside them.
And Hyemin from Shuhami clearly knew that.
She was attacking the Luminous trainees.
“Uh… yeah. Good job then. Go ahead and eat, juniors.”
Juha tried to wrap things up.
But Hyemin added another jab.
“Oh, it’s not that hard. There are people who suffer much more.”
Then she pulled out an empty chair as if she was about to sit down and continue.
What a rude junior.
If you’re from the same company, you should support each other.
If this continued, the atmosphere would completely collapse.
That wouldn’t do.
It seemed like it was time for manager Yoon Jung-hoo to step in.
