Debuting by Riding the Returnee’s Bus Chapter 105

The Performance

 

Yes, I was completely overwhelmed.

 

The energy pouring toward us all at once from a crowd that felt far larger than I’d expected completely swallowed me whole. Looking at the fans felt terrifying. I knew the comparison was unfitting, but it felt as though I was being physically pressured by some kind of supernatural power, like magic or mana.

 

Of course, not all of it felt frightening. While being crushed by the weight of the pressure, this alien, unfamiliar, and frightening landscape before me was nudging my heart, making it swell with emotion.

 

‘It’s strange. So strange.’

 

This was Lee Unha, who had seen all sorts of things in the other world. The severed head of a massive Red Dragon, demi-humans with unfamiliar features whom I lived with as slaves, monstrous creatures with dozens—no, hundreds—of tentacles, and countless spells that defied common sense.

 

These two eyes had witnessed horrors beyond description. But what I was seeing now evoked an indescribable emotion that could hold its own even against those memories.

 

I didn’t know exactly how to define this feeling. I couldn’t tell if it was a tremor caused by excitement or simply adrenaline being secreted from being intoxicated by the atmosphere. The only thing I knew for certain was that I couldn’t take my eyes off the sight before me.

 

Clusters of stars seemed to be screaming as they plunged toward my eyes. As I began to take a step, groups of stars fell from every direction. When I turned my head, waves of light poured down. The scent of fallen stars lingered at the tip of my nose.

 

The roar of the light pierced through my in-ear monitors. Naturally, my hands became slick with sweat. Just as I found myself wishing I could keep taking in this scene a little longer, the intro immediately began.

 

Our allotted four minutes and thirty seconds had begun.

 

‘Wait, did I just zone out?’

 

No, my body was moving correctly. Before I could even think, my body was moving in time with the music. I had given the members a principled speech about how we should show gratitude to the fans who came here. But I realized that the power moving the current Lee Unha was not gratitude toward the fans.

 

It wasn’t that I wasn’t grateful. But what moved Lee Unha now was not some ambiguous or uncertain mental fortitude. What moved the current Lee Unha was time—Time.

 

The hours spent practicing until the soles of my feet were raw, the time spent singing until my throat felt like it would burst—that was the engine moving the current Lee Unha.

 

“…….”

 

I wasn’t concentrating properly. At least, that was how it felt to me. In fact, it felt like I had missed a beat. I definitely felt that way.

 

But my body was moving. As if triggered by a reflexive response, my body was in motion the moment the prelude started.

 

‘What kind of expression am I making right now?’

 

I didn’t know. I couldn’t tell what face I was making. But it was probably the same expression I’d practiced countless times in front of the mirror.

 

What about the members I practiced with? They, too, would be wearing the expressions they had practiced. Their bodies would be moving just as we had rehearsed. I could tell by seeing them hit the pre-arranged spots in their respective positions. I could tell by the voices they were producing.

 

There was no way I couldn’t know. Through the process of crossing paths or overlapping movements with the members, I could sense how nervous they were, how excited they were. I could feel the members moving amidst ragged breathing, sweat tinged with a hint of fear, and the cheers of the crowd mixed with the music.

 

I couldn’t even see the teleprompter. I saw nothing but lights swaying up and down. It felt like my body was moving excessively. My expressions felt a bit awkward. I thought I might have had a voice crack once or twice. I felt like I’d made a slight mistake.

 

But despite that, I didn’t stop. I continued to move my arms and legs, exhaling rough breaths….

 

I was desperate to express something inside me. I sang to vent all the swelling emotions. I swung my limbs incessantly as if to exhaust everything within. I sweated as if it would be fine to collapse from exhaustion right then and there.

 

In reality, it felt like my stamina was being consumed faster than usual. My breath rose to the very top of my throat, and my head felt like it was spinning. I felt like I would collapse at any moment.

 

But my body was moving on its own, as if under hypnosis.

 

And….

 

Thump!

 

With that sound, the music cut out. It wasn’t an accident. Simply, just like that, the four minutes and thirty seconds were over.

 

‘Oh. What….’

 

“…….”

 

‘What happened?’

 

“…….”

 

‘Is it over… already?’

 

“…….”

 

“Huff… huff… gasp… gasp… huff… huff….”

 

“…….”

 

“Huff… phew… gasp… gasp… huff… huff….”

 

‘Is it really over already?’

 

“…….”

 

‘It’s really over? For real?’

 

I looked around. I see the members, like me, exhaling rough breaths. Kim Taeyeol, Han Yohan, the other hyungs, and even the ice-cold Jegal Hwi were breathing heavily with dazed expressions. Everyone seemed to be in a state similar to mine.

 

I couldn’t tell if it had been a good stage or if we had eventually ruined it. I was so out of it, busy repeating the act of taking sharp breaths as if on the verge of hyperventilation.

 

But….

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

 

The deafening cheers rang clearly in my ears.

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!”

 

“…….”

 

“Huff… gasp… gasp… huff… huff… phew… phew….”

 

The stage blacked out. And then,

 

“Phew… huff, gasp… Let’s go down, Unha. We have to go down right now.”

 

A voice spoke. It was No. 106, Kang Seungcheol. I wanted to answer, but my voice wouldn’t come out properly as I was still gasping for air. Or perhaps, I just didn’t want to talk. My legs felt like they were going to give out. My head was still spinning.

 

“Unha, you’re okay, right?”

 

“Phew… huff… Yes. Yes. I’m fine. I can walk on my own.”

 

“…….”

 

“It’s all over, so let’s go down.”

 

“…….”

 

“Mhm….”

 

“…….”

 

Even as we left the stage and walked down, the sound of the cheers continued to ring in my ears. And, just as Joo Wooyoung had done earlier, I too encountered the other trainees.

 

I saw Jung Taehee with his eyes wide open. When I weakly muttered, ‘Hang in there, Taehee…,’ his face, as he nodded, lingered in my vision.

 

Voices like ‘Good job, you worked hard, Unha’, or ‘I watched from here and you were really good’, could be heard. They were the voices of trainees and staff who had come out of the waiting rooms. I gave them brief greetings, but my mind was still blank.

 

No, rather than blank….

 

An unbelievable sense of hollowness rushed in. It felt as though I had gained a massive power and lost it in an instant. Or rather, it was regret.

 

Yes, the emotion currently tormenting Lee Unha was definitely regret.

 

‘Am I an idiot? Seriously? Am I a fool?’

 

It was self-loathing.

 

‘Am I really stupid?’

 

I had gone up on stage and come back down without even knowing what I was doing.

 

‘I must have used the Succubus’ Eye, right? No, I must have been using it continuously to be this exhausted, right?’

 

In the laboratory, I would have died. I would have definitely died. No, I didn’t even need to use ‘Paradise’ or the lab as an example. If I had been just a little more out of it, I surely would have made a huge mistake and ruined the stage.

 

It was a relief that I didn’t make the kind of mistakes like falling over, spacing out, or missing a part. The loud cheers had echoed through the venue, but I could bet it wasn’t because our group’s stage was good or because we ‘tore it up’, as Kim Taeyeol often said.

 

It was likely just a cheer out of habit—a celebration for the finale of trainees who truly loved Idol Classism and had suffered here for a long time.

 

‘We were really mediocre.’

 

Seeing the members unable to say a word immediately after entering the waiting room, it definitely hadn’t been a satisfying stage.

 

‘So this is how it ends.’

 

One person was even crying. I didn’t know the meaning of those tears, but they were likely tears shed because they knew they had performed terribly on stage. Kim Taeyeol maintained a dazed expression, Han Yohan looked relieved, and Jegal Hwi looked somewhat irritated.

 

The overall atmosphere was so gloomy I didn’t know where to start talking. Eventually….

 

“I’m going to go to the bathroom for a second.”

 

I muttered that and left the waiting room. Many thoughts floated through my head. In the middle of the long hallway, a door opened, and a figure stepped out.

 

Again, it was Joo Wooyoung.

 

“Oh. Unha.”

 

“Wooyoung hyung?”

 

“You worked hard. You looked cool.”

 

“I don’t know. I… don’t think so.”

 

“Really? I suppose that’s understandable.”

 

“…….”

 

“…….”

 

“Are you satisfied, hyung?”

 

“…….”

 

“…….”

 

“No.”

 

It seemed Joo Wooyoung was in a state similar to mine.

 

‘I want to do it again.’

 

Yes.

 

‘I want to stand up there one more time.’

 

Yes.

 

‘I want to sing and dance on that stage once more.’

 

I couldn’t just keep it in my head. I felt it would only gain meaning once I spoke it aloud. I stared intently at Joo Wooyoung and opened my mouth somewhat timidly.

 

“I want to stand up there again someday.”

 

Joo Wooyoung responded to me.

 

“Me too. I don’t know if we’ll debut together yet, but if that happens… I’d really like to do it together next time.”

 

“It will happen.”

 

Outside, the cheers were still audible.