The Best of Tomorrow-Chapter 3Vol 2. .1: The Lost World – 2

The Best of Tomorrow

Volume 2 – Table of Contents

03 The Lost World – 2

04 The Street from the Dream

05 The Best of Today

Epilogue: The Record of Eternity

Side Story: People Outside the Journey

Special Story: Seventeen, Spring

Track List

03 The Lost World – 2

Without even knocking, Baek In-hyeok threw the door open and entered. He had come looking for Seon-jae, who was alone in the room while Woo Hyeon-seong was in the shower. Seon-jae, his cheek resting on one bent arm, looked up at Baek In-hyeok and then lowered his gaze again. Seeing that, Baek In-hyeok frowned and let out a disapproving sound.

After closing the door behind him, Baek In-hyeok strode over and perched on the bed, snatching the earphones from Seon-jae’s ear. The sudden cut in music made Seon-jae glance up, this time with a look of irritation.

“What the hell?”

“Why are you sitting there looking so fucking miserable again?”

“I’m lying down.”

Baek In-hyeok’s brow furrowed.

“Give it back.”

When Seon-jae reached for the earphones in Baek In-hyeok’s hand, the latter pulled his hand further back. Seon-jae turned a dissatisfied glare toward him.

“What. What do you want?”

Baek In-hyeok’s hair was still damp, clumped into strands. Staring ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) sharply into Seon-jae’s eyes, he hesitated before speaking.

“You met her, didn’t you?”

“You’re skipping the whole intro, what are you even saying.”

Seon-jae grabbed In-hyeok’s arm like he was telling him to just hand back the earphones and leave. But Baek In-hyeok held on and didn’t let go.

“You met Im Sol.”

Seon-jae’s gaze shifted from In-hyeok’s hand to his face.

“I saw her a few days ago. Said she works in broadcasting now.”

“......”

“You saw her too.”

“So what.”

Baek In-hyeok clenched his fist in frustration and then yanked the blanket up over Seon-jae’s face.

“If I’d known you were such a pathetic romantic, I would’ve made damn sure to tell people not to even come near you when they were joking around about her running off with you on her back. It’s my eternal regret that I didn’t.”

Seon-jae lay silently under the blanket, listening.

“If she was going to run off, she should’ve run off with you, not just with your feelings. What kind of half-assed theft is that?”

Baek In-hyeok pouted as he looked down at Seon-jae. Seeing him shaken again, after all that time spent sick over a girl he couldn’t forget, made In-hyeok feel like his insides were burning.

“You still like her?”

“......”

“I said, do you still like her?”

“I don’t know, you idiot.”

“Which means you do.”

Seon-jae, who had been lying still under the blanket, suddenly threw it off and glared at In-hyeok.

“Hey, you were the one who said she was cute because she was a little weird.”

Baek In-hyeok widened his eyes like he’d been falsely accused.

“I never liked her, okay?”

The door flew open again. Woo Hyeon-seong, a towel on his head, looked back and forth between the two.

“What the heck, who likes who?”

Baek In-hyeok quickly shoved the earphones back into Seon-jae’s hand and whispered, “Be careful not to get caught,” as he slipped a business card under the blanket. Then he stood and looked Woo Hyeon-seong up and down.

“Ah, hyung, you should dry your hair in the bathroom.”

He bent down and picked up some hair from the floor.

“See? Look at this. Your hair’s already falling out.”

“That’s not mine. It’s Seon-jae’s.”

“It’s blonde. You’re saying it’s his?”

“Not mine.”

Woo Hyeon-seong shook his head and left the room. Baek In-hyeok waved the hair between his fingers as he followed after him.

“Hyung, come on! Don’t be like this!”

Outside the room, the two of them started making a fuss over the stray hair. Seon-jae, listening to the noise, sat up and pulled out the card Baek In-hyeok had shoved under the blanket. On the small square of paper was a familiar name. His eyes traced the two characters printed on it.

“Im Sol.”

At the bottom of the card was a personal contact number. Seon-jae picked up his phone and started dialing it. As he typed in the last digit, a name popped up under the number.

Pro Refund Lord Kim Chun-baek.

It was the day he went to the station for a radio schedule. Standing in the hallway, he saw Im Sol. She was staring at the wall. He stayed at a distance, watching her as she looked at an old poster from a past public broadcast. There were several artists on the poster—and among them was Potato Pancakes.

He stepped a bit closer. Im Sol was gently tracing her own face on the poster with her fingers. Her legs were pressed tightly together, and she had a gloomy expression as she spoke her own name.

Seon-jae’s steps froze. The voice that said his name sounded warm. “Seon-jae, always stay healthy.” Her words echoed through the hallway—and through his heart.

His chest tightened. It had been six years, but the feeling wasn’t unfamiliar. It was something she used to say to him over and over in the winter of their eighteenth year. When they ran into each other a few times and she looked at him like a stranger, he had assumed that was all it was. But the moment he heard her voice, it hit him like a blow to the chest.

She disappeared down the emergency stairs, and he followed. He figured she’d already be gone, but he opened the door anyway. And there she was—Im Sol—holding a door handle in her hand.

She hid it behind her back as she knocked. There was a desperation in her posture that made him smile, despite the weight in his heart. It reminded him of her collapsed outside a school gate. Still the same. Still cute. That thought swept over him, followed by a strange feeling.

She didn’t feel like the Im Sol who’d started ignoring him after they turned nineteen. Something was different. The urgency and desperation in her felt like the eighteen-year-old Sol. And in that moment, what had once been a faint hope turned into certainty.

You back then... that was really you.

The joy lasted only a moment. A heavy dread filled his heart. It made the years of waiting feel meaningless. He had waited only for the day they would meet again—but what had she been thinking, turning her back on him even though she knew who he was?

‘...What was I expecting?’

Sol’s voice echoed in his memory. The word “expectation” stuck with him as he looked at her name.

He had loved her. He had expected that the day would come when he’d see her again. He believed she hadn’t changed, only stepped away for a while—and that they’d meet again eventually.

Still staring at her name in his contacts, Seon-jae closed the keypad and opened the browser. He searched for a video from the high school festival where he had sung. Baek In-hyeok had uploaded it, and it appeared at the top of the results.

He pressed play. The scene from that day appeared on the screen, and the audio came through the earphones Baek In-hyeok had returned. But the sound barely registered. Seon-jae’s eyes were fixed on the phone screen. A flickering light kept appearing at the edge and disappearing again.

A single light. The same one he had seen on stage that day. He now knew—it was Im Sol. The one who had cheered with big sweeping gestures to his song. The memory was still vivid.

His eyes lingered on that light for a long time, just like that day.

□ ■ □

What Seon-jae had said felt like it clung to every part of her body. Her stomach was tight, her head drooping. She stirred her yukgaejang with a spoon, repeating Seon-jae’s words over and over in her mind.

“I waited for you—even though I didn’t know when we’d meet.”

That was what he’d said. But “when” and “waited” kept catching like rocks in her thoughts. Waited for me—even though he didn’t know when? She stared seriously at the bracken on her spoon, weighed down by the question: Which ‘me’ was he talking about?

“Maknae, are you feeling sick today?”

“Huh?”

She snapped out of it and looked up to find PD Kim Myeong-hyeok watching her. His bowl was already wiped clean. The way he was looking at her slow spoon movements made it seem like he was about to scold her.

“Oh, no. I’m fine.”

She hadn’t eaten more than a few spoonfuls. She put her spoon down, unable to keep going.

Right after paying the bill and leaving the restaurant, PD Yang Ji-woon, PD Kim Myeong-hyeok, and Shim Won-jun all lit cigarettes. Normally she would’ve said, Then I’ll head back first, and left—but just as she was getting up, PD Yang suggested they grab a coffee first, so she was stuck. It was awkward. She didn’t know where the café was and couldn’t ask without sounding weird. So she just wandered near Shim Won-jun, hoping they’d finish smoking quickly.

“Oh, right. Maknae, did you go to Jagam High School?”

“...What?”

The name was so familiar her eyes went wide. PD Kim Myeong-hyeok exhaled smoke and tapped his ashes.

“I graduated from there too.”

She blinked in confusion, wondering why he was bringing this up. The infiltration of Jagam High was supposed to be a secret known only to her, Seon-jae, and Baek In-hyeok.

“A lot of us from that school ended up in this industry. Just the other day, a junior who writes for a music program asked me for your business card. Said you were classmates.”

“Cla... classmates?”

She probably just looked surprised, but she could feel her eyes shaking. There’s a phrase for this—pupil earthquake. What the hell was going on? Who was the music show writer? What classmate? Why did they want her card?

PD Yang changed the subject to complaints on the show’s homepage about subtitle timing. PD Kim frowned and mumbled that it was nothing special. The whole conversation felt like a high-speed train flying past her.

She didn’t even realize smoke was blowing right at her. Still dazed, she was rolling What the hell is this? thoughts around in her head when a real soccer ball rolled slowly into their circle. It had lightly bumped PD Yang’s foot before veering toward the center of the group.

She lowered her eyes to the ball. What the hell is this now? She looked up—and saw a person approaching. Padded jacket hood up, mask pulled up to the nose. She recognized him instantly. It was Seon-jae.

He stopped where the smoke thinned out, stepped on the ball, and bounced it up before catching it under his arm. Then, he looked right at the three smokers.

“Isn’t this a no-smoking area?”

“...What?”

PD Kim, displeased, frowned and asked. No one said a word—they were too stunned. Even Shim Won-jun seemed frozen.

“This is a non-smoking zone.”

“I didn’t know. But... what’s it to you?”

“There’s a non-smoker here. You’re smoking where you’re not supposed to.”

She couldn’t stop Seon-jae. She wished someone would grab PD Kim’s arm and intervene, but no one moved. She hadn’t even been working here for a month yet and still got scolded for every little thing—there was no way she could grab his arm and say PD-nim, please, let it go! Was this going to turn into a fight?

She nervously looked back and forth between them. Then, Seon-jae met her eyes.

“You just gonna stand there like an idiot?”

“...What?”

Still holding the ball under his arm, he turned and walked off. All eyes turned to her.

“What the hell? You know that guy? What’s with the attitude?”

PD Kim’s face was all scrunched up, his voice rising with irritation. Seon-jae threw that bomb and walked away like nothing. PD Kim kept asking who he was—why he freaked out over smoking in front of her, what his name was.

I don’t know either, PD-nim...

She swallowed that line and shook her head, trying to look innocent and just as baffled.

“J-just a stranger.”

PD Kim squinted at her. That’s not how people talk about strangers, his eyes seemed to say. Fair enough—anyone could see they knew each other. She blinked and looked away.

“Maybe he mistook me for someone else.”

Shim Won-jun said, and she didn’t miss the chance to nod. Yes, yes, maybe that’s it.

PD Yang, cigarette finished, said, Let’s go, and took the lead. PD Kim followed. Shim Won-jun and she walked side by side behind them. She turned her head slightly to look at where Seon-jae had disappeared—but he was already gone. Maybe he went inside somewhere. For a second, she thought maybe it wasn’t him. But no, it had definitely been Seon-jae.

Just when she was wondering why he would suddenly show up like that, Shim Won-jun spoke.

“You don’t like cigarette smoke, do you?”

“...Huh? Oh, no, it’s fine.”

“You don’t have to stand near us. If it’s important, they’ll talk about it again during the meeting.”

He smiled. She smiled back, nodding.

“But that guy earlier—even with his face covered, he was good-looking. Don’t you think he’s a celebrity?”

Her faint smile froze.

“I... I don’t know. Kinda looked like our camera director.”

“Huh? Our camera director has three kids. And he’s short.”

“Ah... maybe the audio director?”

“That guy cried at the bar last month ‘cause his weight hit three digits.”

“Ah... really?”

She laughed awkwardly and sped up. Shim Won-jun tilted his head.

“Sol-ssi, you really have no eye for these things,” he said, laughing.

She just smiled silently. You said it. I didn’t even recognize Seon-jae. No eye for it at all—but maybe that’s for the best.