The Best of Tomorrow-Chapter 2.4

□ ■ □

I fidgeted with the handles of the shopping bag, biting down nervously on my lower lip.

I was sitting in the arcade karaoke room with Seon-jae, just the two of us. Baek In-hyeok had gone to exchange bills for coins.

Earlier, after slipping out before the eighth period, Seon-jae and Baek In-hyeok said they had some time to kill before heading to the agency and came straight to the arcade. The problem was, I joined them on the way.

I did say, No, you two go ahead, but it was a chance to hear Seon-jae sing—right in front of me. That’s something that could never happen unless I was in the past. Whether Seon-jae was alive or not when I returned from this time-travel, this was something that could never happen again. Unless I won some event like Karaoke Time with Potato Pancakes, this was impossible.

Snatch Seon-jae and run—this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

When I declined, Baek In-hyeok had said that. And he was right. I found myself nodding.

"Hey, then let’s do this. Let’s bet on a wish and compete with our scores."

Baek In-hyeok suggested it to me as I hesitated, stealing glances at Seon-jae.

"Why would we do that?" Seon-jae responded.

"Why not? If you win, you can just tell her never to come near you again."

At that, Seon-jae gave Baek In-hyeok a playful jab in the side. I raised my hand and said,

"Yeah! Seon-jae, if you win, I’ll never bring you tribute or show up again!"

"Nice. Then I’ll take that as everyone agreeing. Let’s go!"

With that, Baek In-hyeok cheerfully took the lead. Though Seon-jae looked reluctant, he followed behind him. And that’s how I ended up at the arcade karaoke with two people who would soon become idols. Me, Im Sol, coming here to do a karaoke score battle with them. You’re done for.

Trying to choose a song, the only ones that came to mind were songs that hadn’t even been released yet—songs that would come out five years from now. What do I sing? What were my usual karaoke picks again? I was thinking when I felt a gaze on me. I looked up.

Seon-jae was standing there with his arms crossed, staring at me.

"Im Sol."

"Huh?"

"What were you doing?"

"Me? Uh... I was just thinking about what song to sing."

Seon-jae let out a short laugh, like he found that ridiculous.

Was it funny that I ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ tagged along just to sing? Maybe I really shouldn’t have come.

Bang—the door burst open. Baek In-hyeok came in.

"Is today a holiday or something? There’s a crazy long line at the bill exchanger."

He dropped into the seat next to Seon-jae and shoved two ₩1,000 bills into the slot, then grabbed the remote and began browsing for songs.

"Hey, let’s each sing one warm-up song to loosen up, and then go into the real match."

"Okay!"

"Oh~ Im Sol, I like that fighting spirit," Baek In-hyeok said as he typed in a song number and pressed start.

It was I Want You by Drunken Tiger.

Right. Baek In-hyeok used to dream of being a rapper, even though he couldn’t rap.

Still, in Potato Pancakes, his position was sub-vocal.

He grabbed the mic, waved his hand up and down, and rapped I Want You. I clapped along to the beat. Seon-jae, arms crossed, simply stared at the screen—until the short female vocal part came up, which he sang smoothly, as if out of habit.

Hearing Seon-jae’s voice suddenly come through the speaker, I covered my mouth with both hands, eyes wide.

The song ended, and Baek In-hyeok’s score appeared.

Even if it was just a warm-up round, he scored 70.

"Yikes. I need to go with a ballad next."

He handed the remote to Seon-jae, who said,

"I’m not warming up," and passed it to me.

Ah, crap. My nerves were going wild.

Singing in front of two future Potato Pancakes members? I was definitely going to embarrass myself.

I pressed a number, heart racing.

Nothing really came to mind—until I remembered my mom’s go-to karaoke song: Love Is Like Glass by Won Joon-hee.

My dad always scored high with Lee Moon-sae’s songs, and my mom with Won Joon-hee’s.

Baek In-hyeok gawked at the surprisingly short number.

"How do you even know this kind of song?"

My palms were sweating. I gripped the mic with both hands and looked at the screen.

I followed the lyrics faithfully as they turned yellow.

When the song ended, my score popped up.

"Holy—no way."

Baek In-hyeok looked like he couldn’t believe it.

I got a perfect 100.

"You’ve got to be kidding. I scored lower than Im Sol?"

"Can I do mine over?"

"No way!"

Baek In-hyeok grabbed the remote.

"Okay. Now it’s the real game. Whoever gets the highest score gets their wish granted."

I quickly flipped through the karaoke book. I needed a song that would give me a high score.

Baek In-hyeok’s next song began. It was Maybe by Buzz.

From the way he was drawing circles with the mic, it was obvious he was trying to mimic Min Kyung-hoon.

From what I could tell—yeah, In-hyeok, this isn’t going to go well for you.

When the song ended, he clasped his hands together and stared at the screen, desperately hoping for a good score.

What wish is he so desperate to make?

The score came up. Lower than before—58.

Baek In-hyeok gaped.

"Hey, is this thing broken? This can’t be right. I freaking gave it my all!"

Frowning, still clutching the mic, he glared at the machine.

Seon-jae took the remote, typed in a number, and snatched the mic from him.

"Baek In-hyeok: 58 points."

Even though we’d all just seen the score on the screen, Seon-jae made a point to say it out loud into the mic.

Then Seon-jae’s song began.

It was The Common Words I Love You by Kim Yeon-woo.

Oh my god.

That’s the song I had in my MP3 player and used to listen to nonstop during self-study hours.

I covered my mouth with both hands and listened.

Seon-jae’s strength was how effortlessly he hit high notes.

His voice had a delicate clarity that made his singing sound beautiful.

Mom. I think I was born for this moment.

As the lyrics turned yellow on the screen, my eyes welled up.

I thought, If only my eyes were on the back of my head, as I kept sneaking glances at Seon-jae’s face.

When the line about a heart that hurts so much it could stop beating came up, I clutched the hem of my jacket.

This is definitely a 100-point performance.

The song ended.

Baek In-hyeok looked like he had lost all hope, leaning his head against the wall with zero expectations.

Then the score appeared.

Baek In-hyeok sat bolt upright.

"Hey. Is this for real?"

Laughing out loud, he pulled out his phone and snapped a photo of the screen.

Seon-jae’s score was 10 points.

Baek In-hyeok laughed until he nearly choked.

"I’ve never seen a 10 in my life."

Just moments ago he looked like he was in mourning—but the instant he saw someone score lower than him, he was back to life.

"This machine’s seriously busted."

Disbelieving, I slapped the screen with my palm.

Of course, the score didn’t change.

Baek In-hyeok, looking like he’d had enough, handed me the remote.

Strangely, I was even more nervous than before.

Is it because this is the main match now?

I took a deep breath and pressed in a number.

"What era is this from? Why do you only sing songs like this?"

Baek In-hyeok complained.

To You, I Am... by Dandelion.

If my dad scored high with Lee Moon-sae and my mom with Won Joon-hee, this was the song I used to get high scores.

Seon-jae currently had the lowest score with 10.

If I could just beat Baek In-hyeok’s 58, I’d win—and get to make my wish.

With that resolve, I picked up the mic, my expression solemn.

I gripped it with both hands, my posture stiff, focusing intently on staying in tune.

During the intro, I wiped my sweaty palms on my gym pants.

"Sometimes, even just a smile you drop my way is enough. Give me the courage to protect you."

I stared at the lyrics on the screen so hard I didn’t even see what kind of faces Seon-jae and Baek In-hyeok were making.

When the song ended, I let go of the mic and tried to steady my breath.

Hand on my chest, heart pounding, I waited for the score.

"Wow, you’re actually good."

"Huh?"

I turned to Baek In-hyeok.

"I said, you sing really well."

Flustered by the unexpected compliment, I asked,

"Really? Was I good?" and looked toward Seon-jae sitting beside him.

His face looked a little red in the glow from the screen.

"Whoa!"

Baek In-hyeok shouted. I looked at the screen—98 points.

I jumped up in surprise, throwing my hands in the air and bouncing with joy.

The rankings were clear now: Me, Baek In-hyeok, Ryu Seon-jae.

Seon-jae, arms crossed, said,

"I came in last? Seriously?"

"So what’s your wish? You can even ask to carry Seon-jae off on your back," Baek In-hyeok said with a snicker.

I thought hard about what wish to make.

Would they really grant it?

If so, I wanted to ask him to remember what I’d said—every word I’d told him since returning to the past.

To make it to twenty-four.

But I’d already said those things to him so many times.

Even if I made it a wish, remembering was up to Seon-jae.

I looked at the screen.

We still had one coin left—enough for one more song.

"Seon-jae, sing a request."

Baek In-hyeok groaned.

"Seriously? You’re using your wish on that?"

He shook his head, muttering that wishes should be like Buy me burgers for a month or Do my chores.

"What song?"

Seon-jae asked. I grabbed the remote.

Finally—the moment I’d waited for.

I typed in the number for The Memory of the Wind.

"You can’t just pick a song I don’t know," Seon-jae protested.

But there’s no way he didn’t know this song.

He sang it at his audition.

He sang it at the school festival.

The song title and artist popped up.

Seon-jae turned to me with a surprised expression.

Baek In-hyeok, answering a phone call, left the room.

Now it was just me and Seon-jae.

A song he was singing just for me.

Even from the intro, I felt like I was about to cry.

I pulled up the hood of my coat and stared at the screen.

Seon-jae. I hope you remember everything I said to you after I came back.

His voice rang out.

Without realizing it, my eyes filled with tears.

I opened them wide, trying to stop them.

If I cry here, I’ll really look like a weirdo.

Baek In-hyeok came back in and casually sat down—

then froze when he saw my tear-streaked face in the glow of the screen.

He quickly took out his phone, holding it up toward me like it was a rare moment.

"Don’t you dare film me. I’ll kill you."

Baek In-hyeok quickly put his phone away.

Seon-jae finished singing and set down the mic.

Baek In-hyeok rummaged through his bag and pulled out some tissues, handing them to me.

"Wait, are you crying?"

"No. I’m not."

I turned my head and dabbed my eyes with the tissues.

Behind me, Baek In-hyeok muttered to Seon-jae,

"She’s crying."

You bastard... I’m not crying...

I clenched my teeth and cursed to myself.

□ ■ □

We stepped outside the building and waited for Baek In-hyeok, who had gone to wash his hands, complaining that the mic felt grimy.

The way he looked at us—like we were dirty for not caring—was kind of iconic.

Seon-jae shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Im Sol."

"Huh?"

My face was still a mess from crying during Seon-jae’s song.

I glanced at my reflection in the glass door, then turned toward him.

Seon-jae stood right in front of me, hands in his pockets.

"Earlier... when I asked what you were doing."

"Yeah?"

"It was the music room."

My eyes widened at the unexpected answer.

"What were you doing there?"

"...."

"With In-hyeok, just the two of you."

He stared quietly at my tear-reddened face.

They’d been talking in the music room about how they didn’t make the debut team.

It wasn’t something Seon-jae would enjoy hearing.

I couldn’t bring myself to say, We were talking about you.

So I just blinked and held out the shopping bag I was holding.

"He asked me to give this to you."

Seon-jae looked down at the shopping bag.

"If I just handed it to you, you wouldn’t take it.

So I asked Baek In-hyeok, but he said he wasn’t going to be anyone’s delivery guy... I mean, it’s not a delivery, it’s a favor..."

Seon-jae stared quietly at the bag, then took it by the handles.

He peeked inside.

It was packaged in a box, so you couldn’t tell what was inside just by looking.

"It’s... um, some kind of aroma thing or whatever."

"Why are you giving it to me?"

Seon-jae, still staring at the box inside the shopping bag, raised his head and asked,

"This... is just..."

"There’s no such thing as just," I interrupted.

My lips twitched.

Seon-jae was the first celebrity I had ever truly, deeply liked.

It was the first time I had bought multiple copies of an album just to attend a fansign.

The first time I’d fought tooth and nail in a ticket war for a concert.

The first time I had emailed a broadcaster and gone to a filming site just to attend a public broadcast.

I had started writing his schedule into my calendar instead of my own.

Whenever I got a V LIVE notification, I would leave the middle of a lecture just to watch it.

I was embarrassed to admit I liked a celebrity at my age, so I never told anyone.

But the feelings I had for Seon-jae were too overwhelming to keep to myself.

Thinking about him made me happy.

It felt like he was the reason I was living.

Wanting to give him everything I could—that was what snatch Seon-jae and run meant to me.

"Don’t give it to me."

"Can’t you just accept it?"

"I’m asking why you’re giving it to me. If I’m going to take it, I should at least know why."

"When you like someone, you want to give them everything. I like you."

Seon-jae’s expressionless eyes suddenly widened in surprise.

His face flushed—a rare sight for someone like him.

That’s when I realized just how crazy what I’d said sounded.

My heart thumped erratically with sudden nervousness.

My cheeks felt warm—I was probably blushing too.

"I told you, didn’t I? That I’m your fan."

I bit down on my lips and lowered my head.

It was supposed to just mean I liked him as a fan, but it felt like I was confessing some deeply hidden truth.

I’d already left I love you comments on every Seon-jae photo on the Potato Pancakes Instagram.

Whenever they appeared on music shows, I’d sit front row in my living room, biting my fist and moaning his name.

So why was my heart trembling like this now?

Why were my hands shaking?

"Filthy, you guys. You know how many germs are on those mics?"

Baek In-hyeok had come down the stairs and stepped outside.

Shaking the water from his barely rinsed hands, he squinted at our faces.

"What’s with both of your faces?"

"What about them?" I glanced at Seon-jae.

His cheeks were red.

When our eyes met, he quickly looked away and turned his back.

"Hey, we’re gonna be late. Let’s go already."

He strode off ahead.

Baek In-hyeok, watching him, patted my shoulder.

"Doesn’t even say goodbye again. Don’t let it get to you."

"See you later, Im Sol."

He waved and followed after Seon-jae.

I watched them walk away and pressed both hands to my flushed cheeks.

The shopping bag I’d given Seon-jae was hanging from his wrist.

He probably wouldn’t use that sleep kit for years, but maybe someday—

when he couldn’t sleep—he’d remember it existed and decide to try it.

A small heh of laughter escaped my lips.

Today’s undercover mission at Jagam High School was an absolute success.

I turned to leave, satisfied, when a word suddenly flashed through my mind.

I spun around to look at them again.

Baek In-hyeok had called us friends.

It made my heart flutter weirdly.

I pressed one hand to my chest.

I could feel it pounding through my palm.

Come to think of it, today was too big.

Way too big of a day for me.

Even if I bought a hundred albums, luck like this would never come my way.

Not that I had money for a hundred albums anyway—I bought five and still clung to the empty hope of a fansign slot.

As I stood watching the two of them walk away, Seon-jae turned around to look back.

The distance was too great to tell what exactly he was looking at, but I raised my hand and waved.

Seon-jae didn’t react—he just turned away again.

Then Baek In-hyeok looked back and waved enthusiastically.

Why won’t Seon-jae wave back?

But it didn’t matter.

Today was so full of joy it was spilling over.

□ ◆ □

During self-study time, Seon-jae leaned on his chin and stared out the window.

Then he opened his bag and pulled out the MP3 player Im Sol had given him.

When she handed it over earlier in the hallway, Seon-jae had said, I’ve never used something like this before.

Sol had smiled proudly and said, I went on Secondhand Market looking for an iPod, and someone was selling this for ten thousand won. I just bought it on the spot. It works pretty well.

Most of the songs were from before Sol was even born.

When Seon-jae asked, You like this kind of music? she had shaken her head.

The seller didn’t delete the files. But I liked them, so I just kept listening.

Which song did you like the most? he’d asked.

Sol had thought for a second, looking upward, and then held out five fingers, folding them one by one as she named the songs:

The Common Words I Love You by Kim Yeon-woo

I Must Erase You in My Sadness by Lee Hyun-woo

Just Like the First Feeling by Lee So-ra

You, Deep in My Heart by Shin Hae-chul

Wait for Me by Kim Kwang-seok

He put in his earbuds and powered on the MP3.

Flipping through the playlist, he found the songs Sol had mentioned and began to play them one by one.

As the music flowed through his ears, Seon-jae leaned on his chin and gazed out the sunlit window.

He remembered Sol’s face as she laughed, saying she listened to the Kim Yeon-woo song every evening during study hall.

He’d heard the song a few times but never tried singing it himself.

As his fingers drummed on the desk, his phone vibrated.

He took it out of his pocket and checked the message.

It was from Baek In-hyeok.

[Seon-jae. Let’s skip 8th period.]

[Why? You got somewhere to be at the agency?]

[Not really. But when it ends, can you grab my bag and come to the music room?]

[You’re in the music room?]

[Yeah. Just come when the bell rings.]

As Kim Yeon-woo’s song ended and the next track began, Seon-jae put his phone away and pressed the back button.

The Kim Yeon-woo track started again.

It was a sad song.

Yet a faint smile curled at Seon-jae’s lips.

He tapped his fingers to the beat and then—

Pfft.

He burst out laughing, covering his face with both hands.

What the hell is wrong with me. Why am I laughing?

Forcing the corners of his lips back down, Seon-jae thought to himself,

I must seriously be losing it.

□ ■ □

"You’re not studying?"

Mom had come home and found me sprawled on the couch flipping TV channels, and smacked me with her bag.

I yelled, Why’d you hit me?! but to be honest, I kind of deserved it.

Next year, this version of Im Sol was supposed to be a senior—about to take the college entrance exam.

And here I was, a student who should be burying her nose in textbooks until the pages fell apart, lounging in front of the TV.

It was only natural that Mom’s frustration would turn to smoke and ashes.

Out of basic decency, I dragged myself to my desk.

I opened a workbook and picked up a pencil.

The questions made me feel like someone would pop out and say,

Haven’t we met somewhere before?

I had definitely studied all of this before.

But the memories were hazy.

I twirled the pencil between my fingers as my head kept lolling forward like I was on a drop ride.

Each time I jerked awake, I slapped my cheeks.

Come on, Im Sol! Focus! Study!

I tried to hype myself up... only to suddenly think, Wait, why am I doing this again?

I reached down, unzipped my bag, and pulled out the pocket watch.

I flipped open the lid and rubbed my thumb across the glass.

Before, when I rubbed like this, the glass would press in and trigger something.

Now, it was solid. Not a flicker.

"Why isn’t it working?"

Tap tap.

I smacked the watch.

I shook it, pressed it, flipped it over. Nothing. Not even a spark.

"Dear Pocket Watch, why are you like this? You sent me to the past when I pressed here.

So shouldn’t I go back when I press it again?

You’re not telling me I’m stuck here, right? I’m not really becoming a senior again, right?"

I shook it like I was grabbing it by the collar.

I felt ridiculous, but at the same time, it just wasn’t fair.

There were so many other time periods I could’ve gone back to.

Middle school, college...

Why this specific moment?

But the watch gave me no answer.

Just like my life, I thought bitterly, and picked up my pencil again.

I tried to force my eyes to read the black letters on the page.

Bzzz.

The vibration wouldn’t stop.

I winced at the buzzing sound and felt around my desk.

Eyes barely open, I answered the call with my cheek still resting on the workbook.

"Hello...?"

— Im Sol.

"Yes... who’s this...?"

— It’s me.

My eyelids fluttered open.

I pulled the phone from my ear and looked at the caller ID.

It was an unregistered number.

"Who’s me...?"

— You didn’t save my number?

"It’s not saved..."

There was a long silence on the other end.

I checked the screen again to see if the call had dropped.

Nope—the timer was still going up.

— It’s Seon-jae.

"What?"

— I said it’s Seon-jae.

Seon-jae. Seon-jae.

My eyes shot open.

I sat up straight, almost tipping over my chair.

I checked the screen again.

It really was his number.

Ryu Seon-jae was calling me.

My heart pounded so hard I thought it would explode.

I placed a hand over it, trying to steady my breath.

"What’s up?"

— I kept thinking about it and figured you still didn’t remember what I told you, so I’m saying it again.

"What you told me? What was it?"

— I said, if you have something to say, don’t go through Yun-jae. Say it to me directly.

But today, you asked In-hyeok again.

"Ah... that..."

— You don’t have to give me gifts or anything.

But if you’re going to, stop asking other people. Give them to me yourself.

"Directly?"

— Yeah.

The reason I never gave Seon-jae letters or gifts directly was because they all had to do with stopping his death.

As he said, the books I gave him weren’t exactly what one high schooler gives another.

They had a recommended age group of 50+.

If I gave them to him directly, I wouldn’t be able to dodge questions like:

Why are you giving me this?

What’s with this title?

Why is the content like this?

Sure, I could come up with some excuse.

But I wasn’t good at lying.

And if Seon-jae told me he didn’t want anything through anyone else—

Then I had no choice but to stop forcing it.

"Okay..."

— And you take one too.

“Huh?”

— I mean, you should get a gift too.

I didn’t get it. What was he talking about—some divine blessing? A gift from the heavens?

“A gift? Where am I supposed to get that?”

Seon-jae didn’t answer right away. He seemed almost bewildered by my question. I bit my lip, feeling unreasonably anxious.

Truth be told, I’d never really received gifts outside of birthdays or Christmas. And even those had stopped after elementary school. There just wasn’t anyone to give me anything. The only “gifts” I got anymore were from lucky draws, like when I won a game event or received compensation items for a bug.

— From me, obviously. Where else?

“...From you?”

— I don’t like it when it’s one-sided. If you give me something, I’ll give you something too. So... you do you.

“Hey, but that’s... I mean, I...”

You’re not my fan. I’m your fan. And this wasn’t that kind of gift. Every single one of them had a purpose. I couldn’t say that out loud, though. I just bit my lip and let out a sigh.

— Was that a sigh just now?

“Huh? Oh, no... I mean, the things I give you, they’re not even expensive. I don’t want you to feel pressured...”

— Who said anything? I’ll buy you hangover soup from my family’s place or something.

I couldn’t help but laugh. It came out without warning. Then I quickly wiped the smile off my face, even though no one was watching.

I fidgeted with the phone in my hand. The sound of Seon-jae’s voice, this completely ordinary conversation—it all felt so unreal. It made my heart flutter. I didn’t know what to say next, so I just kept chewing on my lip. The silence stretched. Maybe Seon-jae had run out of things to say too.

While I was wondering how to end the awkward call, his voice came through again.

— Chun-baek.

“Huh?”

— Thanks. For the thing you gave me today. I’ll use it well.

My heart wasn’t just pounding—it was crashing like a janggu drum in a samulnori troupe. Thump-thump, crash-rumble-rumble-rumble—it pounded wildly.

I shivered, goosebumps crawling up my arms. It was hard to believe that the same Seon-jae who always looked annoyed when I handed him letters or glared at my sudden appearances was now thanking me.

— I’m hanging up.

“Oh? Okay. Bye.”

The call ended. I stared blankly at the wall with my phone still in hand. His thank you echoed in my ears like a lingering afterimage.

Holy crap.

I grabbed the pocket watch off my desk and kissed it. The cold metal against my lips gave me chills. I stopped myself from licking or sucking on it like a weirdo, then placed it on the floor and stepped back to bow.

“Oh great Pocket Watch, you are always right and I am always wrong. Surely you brought me here with purpose.”

I pressed my forehead to the floor as I whispered.

BANG. The door flew open.

I turned my head while still on all fours. Mom stood there with a basket of tangerines, staring at me in horror.

“This girl—!”

“Oh, Mom.”

She crossed the threshold and kicked me right in the butt.

“I thought you were studying! What kind of nonsense is this?”

She kept smacking my butt, so I jumped up and dashed out into the living room.

Clutching her chest in exasperation, Mom groaned, “Ugh, how is this kid ever gonna get into college?”

Well... I did get in. But at this rate, who knows. I sulked as I scurried away.

Mom stormed off to the kitchen with the tangerine basket and glared at me, saying I didn’t even deserve to eat any. I tiptoed in after her and reached for one anyway, but she slapped the back of my hand.

“Go back and study.”

The thought of studying again made me want to scream, but thinking about Seon-jae made me smile. Then remembering I was a senior again made it all feel hopeless.

What the hell am I supposed to do?

I felt like dancing the twist out of sheer emotional whiplash. I pouted and trudged back to my room.

□ ◆ □

Seon-jae stared blankly at his phone screen after the call ended, then shifted his gaze to the TV.

A banner reading “Encore Sale: Best Products” sparkled in blue at the bottom of the screen. A middle-aged man laughed heartily, saying, “This helps me sleep so well. I wake up feeling refreshed. I hadn’t slept properly in years due to insomnia, but this has changed my life.”

Leaning back against the couch, Seon-jae stared at the screen while absentmindedly swiping his phone. The product being sold was the same kind of aromatherapy sleep kit that Im Sol had given him.

“...Why would she give me this?”

His face twisted into a complex mix of emotions.

To Seon-jae, a gift—even a small one—carried meaning, a message, or intention.

This made me think of you,

I thought you’d like it,

It reminded me of you.

That’s what people said when they handed him something. Their gifts usually came with the subtext: I like you.

But Im Sol, who had been shouting I f**ing love Ryu Seon-jae* from the moment they met, had given him something oddly ambiguous. A book titled The 500 Unluckiest People Who Ever Lived, for example.

One of her letters had even started with, This letter is from the future.

Nothing she gave him ever felt like it meant I like you, and yet when he asked her today why she was giving him that, she had blushed and said, Because I like you.

Did he... misunderstand what liking someone means?

Tilting his head, Seon-jae kept scrolling through his phone with his thumb. He remembered walking out of the karaoke place earlier. When he turned around, Sol had still been standing there.

Why isn’t she leaving? he’d wondered—right as she waved at him with both hands, sweeping her arms in such wide arcs that he burst out laughing.

Baek In-hyeok, surprised by the laughter, had asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” Seon-jae had muttered, turning away.

Baek In-hyeok had turned around too. Sol was still waving.

Then Baek waved back and nudged Seon-jae with his elbow.

“Hey. Isn’t Im Sol kinda cute?”

“What?”

Seon-jae turned to look at him. In-hyeok was grinning.

He didn’t really feel the need to deny it. It wasn’t not cute.

But he did wonder why In-hyeok was the one saying it.

“You’re cuter.”

The moment those words left his mouth, Baek In-hyeok squealed, “Oh my god, stop it,” and jabbed him in the ribs.

Seon-jae quickened his pace, saying, “Cut it out.”

But Baek sped up too, pushing against him like a puppy.

“Oh my god, why are you like this?” Seon-jae yelled, breaking into a run.

“Wait up!” Baek shouted, chasing after him.

Now, lying on the couch thinking back on that afternoon, Seon-jae tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling.

Sol hadn’t even saved his number.

How could someone know the contact info of the person they liked and not save it?

The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became: she must not really like him.

His brows furrowed as he glared at the ceiling.

Why am I even thinking about this? Why do I care?

He raked his hair back and sat upright.

Opening the music app, he searched for Just Like the First Feeling.

He played the song and read through the lyrics slowly.

It was one of the five songs Sol had said she liked best—counting them off on her fingers.

He leaned sideways onto the couch and listened as he scrolled through the lyrics.

“...It’s nice.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips.

And then—he played it again. And again.