Save a Failed Idol’s Life

“Ah…”

The sound was so booming that my face turned red with embarrassment in an instant.

“Didn’t you have lunch?”

I didn’t really want to talk about Kang Yu-geon. Although we’ve had quite a bit of interaction, I think. There’s a big difference between thinking of an artist as a fan and thinking of them as a rival, colleague, and employee to take care of.

“Ah, yes. The timing was a bit awkward earlier.”

It’s not much time until dinner. Glancing around, I noticed a few more guys who seemed to be friends with the one who had spoken to me, gathered around the bunk beds.

“Hey, what’s this, bothering someone who’s just sitting there, and you’re not even a thug.”

The student who approached me retorted to their own group’s indifferent remarks.

“Ah, it’s not bothering. It’s just that I’m glad to see you.”

Except for Yejun, most were either light eaters or managed their weight by eating just enough, so their food intake couldn’t be compared to that of ordinary teenagers.

“Is there still some time left before dinner?”

“Ah, I guess so?”

He looked down at me with a puzzled expression as if wondering why I asked. I stood up, slinging my laptop bag over my shoulder.

“I’ll go ask if I can use the kitchen for a bit.”

If I have the ingredients, cooking isn’t that difficult or time-consuming.

Knocking on the kitchen door, a volunteer who happened to be resting greeted me.

“It’s not dinner time yet. Will you come back a bit later?”

I might seem like a nuisance. I hesitated for a moment, looking down at the kind-faced volunteer before asking cautiously.

“Could I possibly cook something for myself? I’m confident in cooking since I’ve worked part-time in restaurants for a long time.”

To my surprise, the volunteer’s eyes widened and then narrowed again.

“Cook? You’re going to do it yourself?”

“Ah, yes. If it’s not allowed…”

As I trailed off, the volunteer laughed heartily and patted my back.

“You’re an interesting guy. It’s the first time I’ve seen a male student here ask to cook for himself. I’m a bit surprised. So, what are you planning to make?” ꞦΆŊo͍ВËᶊ

“…!”

Fortunately, the response wasn’t negative. I entered the kitchen through the door the volunteer opened and washed my hands first.

“I’ll start with tteokbokki and kimchi fried rice. Do you have frozen pork cutlets or cold noodles?”

As I efficiently found cooking utensils of the right size and placed them where needed, the volunteer’s expression was filled with surprise once again.

“You’re going to make all that by yourself?”

Hmm… a 20-minute cut might be difficult. But if I organize the workflow well, it should be possible within 30 minutes.

“Yes. I’m not eating alone; I’m planning to share with the kids in the sleeping room.”

The volunteer asked with a concerned look.

“You can use the ingredients, but are you sure you can do it all by yourself?”

It was a question that touched on my pride from over 20 years of experience in the food industry. Of course, the volunteer didn’t mean any harm by asking.

“Yes. Please take a rest. I’ll handle everything.”

I answered with a broad smile for the first time in a while.

“Wow! Did you really make all this yourself?”

Exactly 20 minutes later. I thought my hands might have slowed down a bit since I hadn’t had to prepare food for nearly ten people so quickly in a restaurant setting lately. But after hearing the order of victory just now, my motivation overflowed, and I finished much earlier than expected.

“Yes, it doesn’t take long if I have the ingredients.”

Thanks to the kitchen being optimized for quick cooking, similar to a restaurant environment. I shared a bit with the volunteer and set up a feast on one side of the cafeteria, attracting glances from other students.

‘I made a bit extra, so maybe more people could come and eat?’

I cautiously broached the subject to the group of students who had spoken to me.

“I think I made quite a lot; would it be okay to share with others too?”

The meals served at the right time like a group meal were tasty, but it seemed like there had never been a time when a snack bar set was prepared to the point of bending the table legs.

“Well, we’re just in the position of receiving…”

“It’s fine, isn’t it?”

“If you give it to us, we just have to bow our heads and say thank you and eat.”

Although their tone and behavior were a bit rough, they weren’t threatening. Soon, other students in the cafeteria came over and filled their plates, munching away.

Ordering delivery wouldn’t have been bad, but it would take time to cook and for the delivery to arrive, so I chose to cook and feed them directly.

‘They’re all eating well.’

It seemed like a good decision as the food quickly disappeared.

They didn’t seem to be that close, and amidst the awkward atmosphere, the sound of chewing food mostly filled the audio.

Then suddenly, someone spoke to me.

“Excuse me.”

“Ah, yes.”

What are they going to ask now? I answered, feeling a bit tense.

“How old are you? It’s been awkward trying to use formal language since earlier.”

It looked like they had just entered high school. If we were the same age or if I was younger, I’d want to speak casually like ‘hey, you’ to the other friends.

Well, it’s not like they’re going to check my ID, so it wouldn’t matter if I pretended to be an adult, but there was no need to lie, so I answered with the current age of ‘Lim Hyun-seong’.

“I’m nineteen.”

“Ah, so you’re older.”

The atmosphere suddenly turned awkward, and I added nonchalantly, “You can speak casually to me. It’s not like there’s a big age difference.”

They all chimed in as if they had been waiting for permission.

“Really? So we can just talk casually?”

“Wow, this is delicious. Did you make this with just what was in the kitchen?”

“Hey, move the pig’s feet, I’m eating here.”

“What are you talking about? You ate the most. Have some conscience and stop eating so much.”

Watching them bicker among themselves, it was clear they were just kids.

They all had some reason they couldn’t go home and were taking a brief respite here.

I never expected to be serving meals like this, but I was glad that the facility I established was providing real help.

Then, the conversation turned back to me.

“Right. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but why are you here?”

Caught off guard by the unexpected question, I studied the boy’s expression, which held no malice as he asked.

“You don’t look like a professional runaway. You cook well and don’t look like a thug, so I was wondering why you’re here. Even the laptop you brought today looks expensive.”

Another boy hit him with his chopsticks for asking such a question.

“Hey, what if he doesn’t want to answer that?”

“Why, we’re all curious.”

“There’s such a thing as common sense, you know.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at their squabbling. Well… it wasn’t entirely true, but it wasn’t a complete lie either.

I carefully crafted my response in my head before speaking.

“I’m not close with my family. It’s a perfect home without me, but they kept nagging, so I didn’t want to stick around, and it was uncomfortable.”

That’s exactly how I felt when I first left home and became independent. A stepmother who overtly treated me like a thorn in her side, a half-brother who always tried to outdo me, a father who considered me a nuisance.

Without me, the family that seemed like they would live happily ever after wasn’t doing so well after all.

Once I disappeared, the one they blamed for all the discord at home, the fights between my father and stepmother naturally increased, and my stepmother’s irritation turned towards my half-brother.

‘And then, when I became successful, they clung to me persistently.’

I didn’t care about such a family. That was because I had been hurt so much that I had become numb, and ordinary people wouldn’t be able to do that.

So I created this place so that kids who have families but can’t rely on them could rest comfortably, even if just for a while.

‘I never thought I’d be staying here.’

Surrounded by kids who genuinely needed this place, sharing trivial conversations, I felt a different kind of sentimentality.

“I get it. At home, they complain that you’re annoying, but when you leave, they complain about why you left.”

“I really hate it. What do they expect me to do?”

They all seemed to have similar stories, grumbling but eagerly reaching for their plates. Soon, the food that had been plentiful disappeared as if it had been washed away.

“Ah, that was really good.”

“What now?”

As they began to clear their plates one by one, someone looked at their phone and shouted.

“Hey, Jaemun is busking today. Let’s go watch.”

I wasn’t sure who Jaemun was, but it seemed like he was performing.

“Is that today?”

“Yeah. Are you going or not?”

“Of course, we’re going. We have to go and draw attention in the front row.”

“You’re just asking to get hit again.”

They giggled, showing each other their phone screens, and then one of them suddenly asked me.

“Do you want to come with us? It’s just one bus ride away.”

Where to? As I tilted my head in confusion, the tallest among them burst out laughing.

“If you need to save on your transit card, I’ll swipe you in. You fed us well, after all.”

So what are we going to see? The screen he showed me had kids dressed not much differently from idol trainees, gathered around an amplifier.

No… I… wasn’t completely disinterested, but I didn’t have time for that now. I had to contact Yu-geon as soon as he finished recording…

Without giving a definite refusal or showing positive interest, the boy took it as a weak yes and grabbed my arm.

“Ah, don’t pull away. Let’s go together!”

The place I was abruptly brought to was near where I had once busked in a hurry to promote Drink Me.

‘There are a lot of amateur performances here.’

Even though it was before people started to fill the streets, groups claiming their spots were noticeable.

Probably to secure a good spot.

“Over here, this way!”

A boy who seemed to know the group that brought me waved his hand and called out to us loudly.

“What’s with all of you coming here?”

The boy blushed as if embarrassed, and one of the group teased him by slinging an arm around his shoulder.

“Why, getting cold feet already? How are you going to dance then?”

“Ah, I’m not scared.”

Really, they never tire of it. In the midst of their bickering, students dressed in matching outfits, presumably a dance crew, began checking their moves.

“It’s going to start soon, so sit at the front.”

“Got it.”

I took a seat in the area set apart like an audience, and somewhere in my heart, I felt a flutter.

“Is the sound coming through okay?”

“Yeah, it’s connected.”

When I had performed here myself, I was so afraid I might actually die that I couldn’t fully enjoy being on stage.

Now, even though I was just here to watch, the feeling of life hanging by a thread was the same.

Back then, at least there was hope that I might live. Now, all I wanted was to wrap things up as best as I could before disappearing.

As these bitter thoughts crept into my mind, the first song started with a thumping beat.

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