Chapter 333

Chapter 333

Lee Sejin had his own guesses about what Park Moondae’s secret might be. In his eyes, some of them had been actually plausible, even if they were unlikely.

Is he the real Park Moondae’s older cousin? Perhaps the Moondae that he knew was an older person, and he was just using his younger cousin’s identity. Trying to think of a reason for doing this, however, soon led him down a rabbit hole that made no possible sense, and he would give up on the thought exercise quickly enough.

He said he would tell me. Hearing him say this, he’d precisely compiled all the things that had seemed odd about Moondae so far and gotten acknowledgement from the guy. Even so, there had been a period of time when he’d entertained some truly wild guesses.

At one point, he’d even wondered if Moondae was actually a spy from North Korea. The way he’d lost his memories, that he worked so hard to see results, and how he could manipulate the public the way he did—all of those things seemed to fit. Lee Sejin had immediately laughed that idea off, of course.

What is this, a drama? He’s no spy. But Moondae was now telling him something even more unbelievable—Park Moondae was not Park Moondae, and he’d apparently traveled back in time. It was something the leader of some fantastic cult might say. It made Lee Sejin sweat.

What in the world? Didn’t this sort of thing usually happen in dreams? Lee Sejin found himself reaching for the flesh of his thigh and pinching it hard.

Oh, damn it. It hurt.

Moondae wasn’t done speaking. “I was preparing to sit the civil servant exam and my name was Ryu Gunwoo. The video call you saw me on yesterday? I was talking to my original body. The real Park Moondae is in that body.”

Lee Sejin did his best to sound calm. “Oh… Is that right?”

Is that right, my f*cking ass. Lee Sejin needed to think properly before reacting, but he was letting his tongue formulate words without passing them through his brain first. He was frozen, trying to figure out what Moondae’s intention was.

“I know. I can call him again right now if you want. You might want to see for yourself.”

This is insane.

“Uh…” Lee Sejin grew confused. He was at a loss for words now.

Moondae noticed this, smiling wryly. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“…!”

“Well… I expected as much.”

Moondae made it sound as if it was no big deal. “That’s why I’ve been avoiding mentioning it to you until now. I didn’t really have much evidence. Nothing but testimonies.” Moondae’s body language, however, told a different story.

Lee Sejin’s friend was sweating.

Oh… Lee Sejin felt a headache coming on. Oddly enough, at the same time, his mind jolted to attention as if by electric shock, or having ice put in his mouth. Was the Moondae that he knew someone that would spin a fairy tale at a moment like this?

No. He was not at all the sort. Moondae had once carried on with a concert with a cracked rib. Even when he’d lost sleep for whatever reason, he’d never failed to show up for a schedule. He wouldn’t lie about something like this. Lee Sejin had never seen someone work as hard as Park Moondae, and that was still true. If Lee Sejin wasn’t wildly mistaken about something here, his friend was being perfectly serious.

“I knew that you’d suspect me of being mentally unstable or something. What I mean is…”

“No.” Lee Sejin moved sitting down on the opposite side of the table from Moondae. “I’ll listen. Explain slowly.”

There was a brief flash of surprise, followed by some other brief faint emotion. It was a smile. Moondae seemed relieved.

“All right, then.” Moondae seemed to relax a little. “Let me start from the beginning, then… I woke up in Park Moondae’s body a few months before Idol Inc.”

The story he told described a series of events that Lee Sejin was familiar with, but from a perspective he hadn’t been expecting. Moondae described participating in Relisted! Idol Incorporated and how he had achieved success after success. Some of the details were hard to accept.

“I was told I would die unless I became an idol.”

“Hmm.”

Instructions supposedly appeared before him in the air, calling to mind the symptoms of actual mental illness and making Lee Sejin tense up.

Is it…schizophrenia? Lee Sejin didn’t have much interest in that sort of thing and hadn’t had the time to look into it, either. He couldn’t be sure. In any case, he was eventually able to relax the tense look on his face. Moondae was very obviously not affected by paranoia or fluctuations in sanity. More importantly, he didn’t want to suspect Moondae of such a thing right now. It felt wrong. So instead, he listened, making short acknowledging sounds here and there.

“Yes.”

“Hmm. I see.”

He even made jokes.

“So that’s why you became friends with me and Ahyeon? Because you knew we’d be successful?”

It wasn’t entirely a jest, though. Park Moondae grinned back, seeming a little more comfortable. “Don’t say sh*t like that. I had no intention of becoming friends, but you roped me in with the others.”

Moondae explained that from what he could remember during his life as Ryu Gunwoo, Lee Sejin and Seon Ahyeon had not debuted in the group.

“Oh.”

The thought was hardly fitting for the situation, but Lee Sejin was a bit glad. Whatever the truth might be, it had been purely out of goodwill on Park Moondae’s part that he’d dealt with the faked cigarette incident.

How funny. Here he was, getting fussy about the little things while listening to someone describe something so unbelievable it sounded like pure fiction. In the meantime, Moondae moved quickly past their debut, and into the time that they’d spent as TeSTAR. Something came up then that was so hard to believe, it actually felt like it fit perfectly in the puzzle.

“He came back before I did.”

Moondae was talking about VTIC’s Cheongryeo.

“Cheongryeo…”

“You don’t sound very respectful when you say his name,” Lee Sejin commented.

“Why should I sound respectful? Damn it…”

So the guy had really been off his rocker, after all. Moondae did not go into detail, simply telling him that Cheongryeo had come back as well, and said no more about it beyond explaining that he’d threatened Moondae for knowledge about the future. But Lee Sejin could read between the lines. He could see just how unreasonable Cheongryeo was.

What is he, a psychopath? He had really come close to killing Moondae, furious that he wouldn’t give him some proper information. Lee Sejin felt a chill go down his spine. Moondae seemed strangely forgiving, however.

“But he’s snapped out of it now. Don’t worry about it.”

He wasn’t just saying that they should move on because TeSTAR would also lose out by reporting him to the police. Moondae had a generous side to him that appeared when it came to people he was close to.

So you shared the same experiences, is that it? Lee Sejin repressed the brief surge of displeasure that he experienced at this thought. He was already way past his limit when it came to being accepting, so he would have to move on instead of finding fault. Another shocking detail was waiting for him, anyway.

“And about Chungwoo… He’s actually a relative of mine. We’re from the same clan, and not that far removed from each other.”

The situation grew even clearer. Another puzzle piece had fallen into place. This was why Moondae had avoided Chungwoo at first, but had become fast friends with him recently after becoming roommates. And when the two went out together…

“You went to see Ryu Gunwoo together,” Lee Sejin said.

Moondae did not mention the accident involving his parents and Chungwoo, but Lee Sejin had already heard enough to put a lot of it together.

So that’s why… Chungwoo had started treating Moondae differently recently, though the change had been subtle. It all made sense. Lee Sejin began to understand what Moondae had meant when he’d said that he’d been found out. Moondae did not neglect explaining the second member’s involvement in all this.

“And Bae Sejin only learned about Ryu Gunwoo because it was Chuseok at the time. I was at his place, you know. He doesn’t know any of the details.”

Park Moondae even began to feel a faint sense of shame by this point.

It was really not a big deal and I made such a fuss about it… The explanations he’d heard were so unreal that they were hard to believe, but there was a neatness to them that spoke of the mental effort involved. Lee Sejin could easily picture how nervous Park Moondae must have been prior to bringing up this nonsensical story with him. I shouldn’t have gotten mad.

He muttered frankly, “I’m sorry… for pressing you.”

Moondae grinned. “Hey, it was warranted. I brought it up with you a long time ago.”

Moondae continued to recount his experiences. He actually left out a few details, like the daydream he’d had during his coma or a few of the reveal the truth moments, but the content was still massive. He remained serious throughout, and he was obviously trying to be as honest as possible in answering all of Lee Sejin’s questions. There was no repetition or obsession with trivial details—the usual signs of bluffing or lies.

As a result, Lee Sejin found himself immersing himself in this impractical tale completely. Then the story reached the most recent events. Park Moondae had briefly entered Ryu Gunwoo’s body.

“…and so I came back to the moment we were getting that daesang and gave my speech. That’s why I suddenly forgot my moves.” He concluded his account, looking satisfied. “And that’s my story.”

Lee Sejin stared. He got up and fetched some water, and Moondae took the plastic bottle immediately, drinking from it. Lee Sejin gathered his thoughts while Moondae emptied half the bottle.

Well? Well… I’m completely flummoxed. It was so hard to understand, and probably far more fanciful an explanation for all the strangeness than anyone could have imagined.

Not even the plot of a drama would be this absurd. Lee Sejin had been absorbed in the tale because of how serious Moondae was telling it, but his brain refused to comprehend most of it. As Moondae had said, there was no actual evidence. But even so…

“I get it now. You didn’t tell me because you thought I wouldn’t believe it.”

Moondae said nothing.

“You do know me quite well. But there’s something else you should know about me, though.” Lee Sejin grinned. “I believe in you, Moondae!”

It was hardly realistic, either, that Lee Sejin had debuted successfully and become a top-tier idol, going on tours and doing concerts with tens of thousands of people in attendance. If he’d heard the future half a year before their season of Idol Inc. had aired, he would have laughed at the person who told him and returned to stewing over his sorry existence. But he’d done it.

I did it with him. To Lee Sejin, that was even harder to believe, in a way.

His laughter died out, and he said gravely, “I’ve always done that. And I’m going to do it this time, too. I’m going to believe you, Park Moondae.” He added playfully, “And believing in you always turns out great results. The members all feel that way. I mean, you’re just too good at this.”

Moondae laughed. “Thanks.”

Moondae emptied the rest of his bottle of water, and Lee Sejin pretended not to notice the way his hand shook slightly. He realized how absurd the explanation he’d just accepted as truth was.

Well, I’m not getting any sleep anytime soon. His head would be fully occupied with various thoughts and guesses all night, but Lee Sejin didn’t mention this. Moondae seemed to be opening up, saying various things that were on his mind.

“I’m sure you realized as much hearing my story,” he said, having crumpled up the bottle. He muttered hesitantly, “I didn’t originally mean to be an idol. I suppose that might be disappointing to you.”

What in the world is he saying?

“Park Moondae, are you an idiot?”

“What?”

“You like being an idol so much. What are you even saying?”

“…!”

“None of us intended to become idols from the start… If you did it just so you could live, heck, that makes you better than most of us.”

Park Moondae seemed uncharacteristically taken aback.

“What do I call you, by the way? Gunwoo? How does that sound?”

Lee Sejin was being playful, and Moondae shuddered a little, as expected. The mood grew a little lighter.

“Forget it. I’ve been living as Park Moondae for years now.”

“I know. We’re all from a survival show, but these days, everybody’s got stage names. Park Moondae is your name, too.”

Moondae was quiet.

“Don’t you agree, Moondae?”

“Right…”

Lee Sejin grinned. He suddenly felt the urge to ask if Moondae really hadn’t heard anything about him before he traveled back in time, but repressed it.

It can’t have been anything good. Without Moondae, he would have left the show on his own after the school bullying controversy, and even if Moondae did know something about him, the news probably wouldn’t be all too pleasant.

So he said, “Thanks for telling me. It can’t have been easy. Frankly, Moondae, it makes you pretty embarrassed to say things like ‘I can see words in the air nobody else can!’ and stuff like that, doesn’t it? I can see it on your face— Whoa!”

“Shut it.”

“Haha!”

Big Sejin laughed, moving out of reach of Moondae’s hand.

Park Moondae and Lee Sejin spoke at length that night, until they both had to sleep so they’d be in good shape for the next day’s concert.

“So how old are you, really?”

“I was twenty-nine right before I… came back.”

“Wow! Want me to address you respectfully? Big Brother?”

“No.”

“Well… I expected as much. As an idol, it’s better to be young than to be treated like a seasoned, older member… Whoa! You didn’t get me this time!”

“Tsk,” Moondae said, after trying to sock him in the arm.

Most of their conversation was silly in this way, but it felt odd to hear personal details that he hadn’t heard before.

“Moondae, you’re from an amazing university! Don’t you feel that it was a waste?”

“Not at all. What, do you think I could be earning better money?”

Moondae seemed relaxed, which meant Lee Sejin was able to no longer regret getting angry at his friend over nothing. They didn’t have a single drop of alcohol between them, but the conversation flowed naturally, coming to a conclusion only after they’d built a strong foundation of trust.

The very next day, Lee Sejin realized that he’d recovered his usual joy as he climbed up on stage, no negative emotions weighing him down like the day before.

Good ! Good! With Cha Eugene and Seon Ahyeon on either side of him as he did some freestyle choreography, he hummed as he moved backstage. Another incredible encore had come to an end. He was about to go see Moondae when someone tapped on his shoulder.

“You seem to have ironed things out.”

“…!”

Lee Sejin turned to his group leader, who smiled faintly.

So it showed.

Lee Sejin immediately bowed his head. “I’m so sorry! I’ve been a little… lax over the past few days.”

“Oh, you were fine. It’s just that I saw what happened, and I chose to meddle a little just in case you two were having a hard time.”

Meddle? Lee Sejin realized that their meeting time that morning had been set back suddenly by about three hours last night. He’d thought it was just changes in the schedule.

“Don’t tell me you delayed our start time so…”

“Well, yeah, we all started later, so we could recover our stamina.”

He had made it so that the two of them could talk comfortably alone.

“Thank you…”

“We’re in the same group. We need to be understanding of each other regarding this sort of thing if we’re going to last. Everyone agreed to it right away.”

Chungwoo laughed, and Lee Sejin was left a bit dazed. He had believed that nobody was as serious about keeping the group together til the very end as he was.

Even so, I was worried that they would all start going solo once they were more experienced. Lee Sejin admitted to himself that it might have been a bit arrogant to think he was the most invested.

Chungwoo continued, “It was Sejin—Bae Sejin. He was the first to suggest it. He was worried about you two. It’s good to hear that things went well. Oh, there he is!”

Chungwoo pointed with his chin, and Sejin noticed Bae Sejin talking with Moondae, who was holding a towel as he stood next to some kind of steel frame structure.