The Best of Tomorrow-Chapter 3.2

□ ■ □

I stood blankly, scanning the inside of the CEO’s office. The walls were made entirely of glass, offering a dizzying view of the outside. The company was located on the 16th floor of a high-rise building, and right across from it, a broadcast station loomed into view.

The CEO, having just ended a call, said, “Ah, sorry about that,” and returned to his seat.

A few days after returning to my original timeline, I got the call that I’d passed the interview. I had almost forgotten what I used to do in this world. It was an outsourced production company that handled several popular programs for a general programming channel.

On my first day, they told me to wear something comfortable—but I had no idea what kind of “comfortable” they meant, so I just wore a suit. During job interviews, regardless of the season, I’d always worn skin-colored tights under a skirt. But since I’d already gotten the job and this was my first official day, I figured black tights would be okay.

I awkwardly smiled as I fiddled with the paper cup holding a green tea bag. The CEO glanced at his watch.

“It’s already this late? Want to go grab lunch together?”

“Ah? Y-Yes.”

He stood first, and I hurried to follow. As we stepped out, he told a few people working nearby to head down to the second floor. They replied, “Yes, got it,” but didn’t stand up right away.

I hesitated, looking between them and the CEO walking away. At the sound of him snapping his fingers, I quickly followed after him.

□ ■ □

When he asked, “Chinese food okay?” I thought we were just going to grab a quick bowl of jajangmyeon. But from the moment we entered, I realized this place was on a different level. We were guided to a private room.

Inside was a round wooden table under soft ambient lighting—much fancier than your average Chinese restaurant.

The CEO, clearly a regular, ordered right away. Fortunately, the others from the company arrived before the food did.

Including me, there were four of us total.

While stirring his crab soup, the CEO began introductions.

The tall man with curly hair and round glasses was Yang Ji-woon, a producer for a dating show.

The short man with messy hair and a beard was Kim Myeong-hyeok, also a producer for a dating show.

Right after Kim Myeong-hyeok’s intro, a voice muttered, “Ugh, where is it,” and the door creaked open. A man peeked through the crack, blinking his large eyes.

“Found it. Sorry, I got the rooms mixed up.”

His bangs were parted down the middle, and he bowed repeatedly before sitting down in an empty seat.

The CEO gestured toward him to finish the introductions.

“Shim Won-jun. He’s on the same program as Ji-woon and Myeong-hyeok. You’ll be working with him as an assistant director, so get along.”

Shim Won-jun wiped his hands with a wet towel and held one out to me.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Shim Won-jun. Twenty-nine years old.”

Caught off guard by the sudden age declaration, I bowed slightly and responded,

“I’m Im Sol. Twenty-four.”

He stretched his lips into a smile.

“Guess we’ve got ourselves a new youngest.”

“All guys, huh,” the CEO said, glancing around the table.

I forced a smile and nodded.

“You’ll be joining this team, Sol-ssi.”

Hands on my knees, I looked at the people around the table.

“I look forward to working with you,” I said with a polite eye-smile.

There’s no harm in leaving a good impression.

□ ■ □

I turned off the faucet and raised my head.

My face stared back in the mirror.

Six years.

Six years of life had carved themselves into my features like weather on stone.

I hadn’t really felt myself aging, but jumping straight from eighteen to twenty-four?

Yeah, I regretted not sticking a single slice of cucumber on my face during that whole time travel mess.

I shook the water off my hands and left the bathroom.

As I walked down the long hallway trying to find my room, I realized all the doors looked exactly the same.

There were numbers, sure, but did I actually remember to check the room number before leaving? Of course not.

...Uh, where was it again?

I hesitated in front of the lookalike doors. Then I spotted a vase nearby and figured it must be the right one. I opened the door and peeked inside.

Empty.

Had they already paid and left?

A black coat hung over the back of a chair.

Seriously? If they left, they could’ve at least taken my coat. How heartless. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

I grabbed the coat and started putting it on.

Just then, the door opened.

A group of people poured in, chatting and laughing.

One of them spotted me and blurted, “Huh?”

All eyes turned to me.

Who are you and why are you here?

...This wasn’t the right room.

But—my coat was here.

I slowly slid my arm out of the sleeve, eyes darting around in panic.

And then—eye contact.

Seo Yoon-jae?

My heart dropped. My eyes widened on their own.

Taller than me, Seo Yoon-jae tilted his head and stared.

“Who are you?”

His tone was cold, like he didn’t remember me at all.

“Ah, s-sorry. I think I’ve got the wrong room.”

I bolted.

Shoulder-checked someone on the way out.

Didn’t have the capacity to apologize.

“Im Sol-ssi, over here.”

Shim Won-jun was waving near the entrance.

He must’ve come back inside because I hadn’t returned from the bathroom.

“Yes, I’m late, aren’t I,” I mumbled and pushed through the door.

He handed me something. I looked down.

A black coat.

Why is he giving this to me...?

“Your coat, Sol-ssi... wait, did you take two?”

I looked down at what I was wearing.

The coat went all the way to my ankles.

...No wonder it felt big.

I turned toward the door I’d just come from.

Oh no. What do I do. Should I just cry?

My lips trembled. My face locked in despair.

Whose coat am I even wearing right now?

“You don’t smoke, right, Sol-ssi?”

“Huh? Oh, no.”

“Then here. I’m going to have a smoke before heading back up.”

Shim Won-jun handed me the right coat and went down the stairs.

I took off the one I was wearing.

Inhaled deeply. Exhaled slowly.

Im Sol. Don’t get involved anymore. Seon-jae is alive. You’re back in your real timeline.

I clenched my fists and stood in front of the restaurant door.

I’d only run into Seo Yoon-jae,

But the rest of Potato Pancakes had to be in there too.

I couldn’t imagine barging in like,

“Oh, sorry, I wore your coat by mistake,”

and handing it back.

Maybe I could leave it at the counter and ask someone to pass it along.

I reached to press the automatic door button—

When a hand suddenly slipped past my shoulder and hit the switch first.

Slender fingers. Smooth skin.

The door opened, and soft music drifted out from the restaurant.

But the person behind me didn’t move.

Their hand remained on the switch.

My heart thudded.

A strange sense of dread coiled in my chest.

Something’s wrong.

Cautiously, I turned to see who was behind me.

As soon as I met those black eyes,

I froze.

My own reflection shivered in them.

An expressionless face stared back at me.

I almost said it—Seon-jae...—but bit it back.

“Welcome,” said a staff member,

probably wondering why we weren’t entering.

Seon-jae and I stared at each other.

Finally, I snapped out of it and stepped aside.

He broke eye contact and walked past.

Thump. Thump.

It felt like something was pounding in my chest.

That face—

I didn’t know if he remembered me or not—

But it was cold.

Like my gaze, which recognized him,

had been slashed away by invisible blades.

I stared blankly as he walked inside.

He turned the corner where the vase stood, opened a door, and disappeared inside.

The door shut.

He was gone.

This is how it should be.

Seon-jae doesn’t know me.

I’m the only one who remembers.

It’s right that the emotions flow from me to him,

That my gaze follows him while his doesn’t find me.

And yet... it hurts.

To him, all of it was a distant past.

But for me... it was just days ago.

Just days ago, he told me something I still couldn’t believe.

My nose stung. I scrunched up my face.

□ ■ □

They said there wouldn’t be much to do on the first day,

But I was let off at 9 p.m.

Maybe because I was in heels, my feet were freezing.

I walked a while but couldn’t go any farther.

I ducked into a convenience store.

Originally, I just wanted a pair of rubber slippers.

But then I paused in front of the beer fridge.

I promised myself just yesterday not to drink anymore because I always cry.

Wouldn’t it be okay to take just one day off?

I opened the showcase fridge and pulled out a can of beer. I drank it while standing by the kitchen counter. The fatigue built up over the day slowly melted away, and my whole body felt weak. I didn’t know whether it was because I had taken off my heels and changed into slippers, or because of the beer.

I stood blankly, then leaned my head against the wall and let out a sigh. Ryu Seon-jae’s face kept coming to mind. His expressionless face looked cold, but twenty-four-year-old Seon-jae felt otherworldly, like something a god had sculpted with great care.

Hey, this isn’t right.

I clenched my eyes shut, trying to block out the thoughts rushing in instinctively. Just then—ding!—the convenience store door opened. Two men wearing padded jackets with their hoods up came in.

I thought, I should just finish this and leave, and gulped down the beer. That’s when I noticed a car outside the glass wall, parked with its hazard lights flashing. The windows were so darkly tinted I couldn’t see inside, but an uneasy feeling crept in. I lowered my head and crushed the empty can. I looked around, trying to find the recycling bin, when I overheard a conversation between the two guys standing in front of the ice cream freezer.

“Seon-jae-hyung likes chocolate.”

“He doesn’t seem like he’d eat this.”

“He will. If you give it to him, he’ll eat it.”

...Wait.

I cautiously peeked over the shelf. The glimpses of their faces were Woo Hyeon-seong and Seo Yun-jae. I instinctively squatted down to hide. Staying hunched over, I tossed the can into the recycling bin, grabbed my shoes, and left the store. Then I ran, holding one shoe in each hand. I had no idea why I always ended up running—whether in the past or in the original timeline—it just made my situation feel all the more miserable. My face scrunched up with frustration.

Sitting at the bus stop, I looked down at my toes sticking out from my slippers. My feet are cold, I thought. And then I remembered Seon-jae’s feet on the Gamgam Bridge that night. He had been wearing slippers too, and when he said his feet were freezing, everyone had burst out laughing. No matter how much I searched online, I couldn’t find anything about that day. It was as if the episode from Seon-jae’s trainee days—arguably his hardest moment—had been erased. I didn’t know if it had simply been buried, or if that day had stopped being the hardest for him.

A bus slowly pulled up to the stop. I stood up, shoes in hand.

On the ride home, I leaned my head against the window and watched the scenery blur past. It was dark and empty. As I stared at the endlessly passing landscape, my focus shifted to the glass, and I saw my gloomy face reflected back at me.

“It’s because it’s you that I like.”

Seon-jae’s voice echoed in my ears. He definitely said that. My head drooped limply. I didn’t know if what I felt was longing or sadness or resentment. My emotions wandered without direction. All I could do was sigh again and again. I took out my phone and opened a browser window.

The video of Seon-jae singing The Memory of the Wind at the festival was still available online. But since I had time-traveled and changed his song selection for that day, the video might have changed too. Either it no longer existed, or it would show him singing the new song.

I searched: Ryu Seon-jae Jagam High School festival video. Several videos popped up. I plugged in my earphones and clicked the one with the most views.

There he was—Seon-jae from that day, appearing on my phone screen.

Wearing a black knit sweater, Seon-jae stood up straight and sang.

I turned up the volume. I watched him on the small screen—the same Seon-jae I had seen and heard with my own eyes and ears that day. His voice wrapped around my ears and flowed into my heart. All the wandering feelings seemed to settle. I had definitely come to know him already, but it was the him I met back there that I came to love even more.

Tears welled up in my eyes at the thought of Seon-jae. But something on the edge of the screen kept flashing—lights kept blocking my view of him. What is that? I frowned.

— Hey, your hand keeps getting in the way of the screen.

A familiar voice played. I rewound the video.

— Hey, your hand keeps getting in the way of the screen.

After a few flashes, a man’s voice /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ interrupted the footage.

Wait, this...

I checked the uploader’s username. cupidhyuk. The tears brimming in my eyes dried up instantly. I stared at the username. Cupid-hyuk? Baek In-hyeok?

I looked at Seon-jae’s position onstage. It was the same view as where Baek In-hyeok and I had been standing. I turned up the volume more. Someone was muttering throughout the video, but the sound was too muffled to make out. The screen wobbled here and there—either from a trembling hand or stifled laughter. I thought, Damn it, In-hyeok ruined the video, but for some reason, my chest ached with an odd sense of emptiness. Traces of my past self remained—visible only as the light that kept getting in Seon-jae’s way.

□ ■ □

Days passed, filled with nervous glances and cautious behavior. My only responsibilities were the tasks assigned to me by the PD: organize the gear, back up the memory cards, convert the files—basic production grunt work. The writers handled casting and pre-interviews and wrote the scripts, while everything else fell under the directing team. Which meant, of course, that all the menial tasks fell to me.

Something I picked up while treading carefully: the directing team and the writers didn’t get along. At other productions, the preview scripts were usually handled by writers, but here, the directing team took care of them. And that time-consuming job? Naturally, it became mine.

I sat in a tiny space, face scrunched, nerves on edge, endlessly scrubbing the timeline back and forth. It was like all my energy drained away and I mentally checked out.

I hit the final period and pressed the enter key. Haa... The breath escaped me on its own. Leaning back in the chair, I let out a soft “Ughhh” under my breath.

I spun the chair around a few times and checked my phone. 5:30 p.m. Maybe I’ll get off work on time today, I thought, lips curving into a smile—until the door burst open. I jumped up from my spinning chair and looked back.

“Maknae. You done?”

“Yes. Just finished.”

“Then I’ve got a favor. This is the rough cut. You know the broadcasting station across from the company? I stuck a Post-it with the contact info on it. Take it over.”

PD Kim Myeong-hyeok handed me a tape. I took it automatically and nodded. “Got it.” So much for leaving on time.

I trudged to the station. After hovering in the lobby for a bit, I called the number written on the Post-it. The dial tone rang several times before switching to voicemail. I frowned and checked the screen, then called again. After a while, someone finally picked up.

— “Yes, this is Kim Yeon-su.”

“Hello. I’m here on an errand for PD Kim Myeong-hyeok to deliver a rough cut.”

— “You’re already here? I’m in a meeting right now—just wait a moment, I’ll be right down.”

“Yes, understood.”

The call ended. I slipped my phone into my pocket and glanced around the lobby. Feeling awkward just standing in the center, I edged closer to the door, trying not to look too conspicuous. Just then, someone pushed the door open from the outside, hitting my shoulder and back. I let out a short yelp and quickly stepped aside.

“Oh, I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine, no worri—wait. Baek In-hyeok?”

Rubbing my shoulder, I turned my head—and there he was. I stared wide-eyed at Baek In-hyeok, then quickly looked away. His name had slipped out before I could stop myself.

The manager beside him said, “What are you doing? Let’s go,” and urged him forward. Baek In-hyeok, who had been quietly observing me, started walking again—then stopped just a few steps later.

“Hyung, just a sec,” he said, turning around.

And then he walked toward me.

Uh, wha... why...

I stepped back a few paces, but his long strides brought him right in front of me, his gaze fixed on mine. I stopped in place. My face was frozen stiff—I could only blink.

“Hey.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Run Away with Seon-jae on Your Back, right?”

Somehow, adult Baek In-hyeok’s stare had grown even colder. His sharp gaze made my lips tremble. I slowly nodded. After I returned from my first time travel, In-hyeok hadn’t recognized me—but now, it seemed he did.

“You pretended not to know me all through senior year, and now you’re the one who posted all those screenshots of Seon-jae’s notes?”

I shook my head quickly, eyes wide. No, that wasn’t me. That wasn’t what I meant to do.

“That wasn’t me.”

“You’re the one who said ‘Run Away with Seon-jae on Your Back.’”

“Oh... yeah, that part’s true. But the rest isn’t me.”

He frowned. “What are you even saying?” he muttered in irritation, eyes dropping to what I was holding. I fidgeted with the tape and instinctively hid it behind my back.

“You work in broadcast?”

“Huh? Uh... yeah...”

“We’ll probably run into each other now and then.”

I bowed my head again without answering. I had no idea what I’d done to deserve being this perpetually apologetic.

“If you run into Seon-jae, just pretend you don’t know him.”

I glanced up at him. I wanted to ask why, but I already sort of understood. That girl who used to keep showing up no matter how often he told her not to—leaving strange letters and books—had suddenly acted like a complete stranger. No wonder he found her creepy, maybe even repulsive.

“Not that Seon-jae would remember you anyway.”

With that, Baek In-hyeok turned and walked off, his words slicing through me like a blade.

I thought of Seon-jae’s face from that day in front of the Chinese restaurant. Frozen, I stared blankly at the lobby floor. Just days ago, we had joked around. Now that he was cold to me, I couldn’t adjust. But I suppose it had been like that with the Seon-jae of the past too.

A long sigh escaped me.