Idol of the Heavenly One - Chapter 124.2
There were many reactions like this. If they were just insulting my face, my skills, or my actions, I could ignore them without responding, but when I see them talking as if they truly know the relationship between Baek Jae-heon and me, I find myself searching for more. I wonder if this person actually knows something, or exactly where it’s becoming obvious. Of course, even when I looked, there were no specifics about which parts were annoying or “obvious”—it was just blunt insults, so I left without scrolling further.
Before turning off my phone screen, I entered the chatroom with Baek Jae-heon once more. I typed something, then deleted it. Typed, then deleted. Not even knowing what I wanted to say, I typed just his name, then simply erased it and exited the chat. It would only tire him out if I kept being anxious and mentioning these things. Let’s just sleep.
The commute to the shop for the second day of the concert was a bit more relaxed than yesterday. My body was still heavy and my muscles were screaming in various places, but strangely, my mind was calm. Just the fact that I had finished yesterday’s stage safely made the weight on my shoulders feel a bit lighter. As I opened the door to the shop and walked in, I heard the voices of the staff along with the familiar scent of hairspray.
“Yesterday was truly the best!”
These words were tossed out like greetings, but the temperature within them was different. It didn’t feel like mere formal praise; I could tell these were the words of people who had actually seen the performance. As soon as I changed clothes and sat in the chair, people from all over started pouring out comments like, “I saw all the videos being uploaded in real-time,” “The reaction was insane,” and “It was seriously cool.”
“Especially yesterday, during that pair choreography with Jae-heon—my breath literally hitched.”
At those words from my hair stylist, something snapped in my head, and my mouth opened before I had a chance to think.
“Do we happen to look like we’re gay?”
The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted it. I could have asked in a roundabout way, like asking if it looked strange or if the choreography was too suggestive, but I had asked far too bluntly. As expected, everyone seemed flustered by my sudden question, and the air in the shop momentarily froze. However, in the next second, the stylists all burst into laughter at once.
“No, no, not at all. What are you talking about? It’s just a cool pair dance.”
“Why? Did someone say something about you looking gay?”
One stylist even wiped away a tear from laughing and asked, “Were you worried it would look too gay?” I found myself laughing along with them. As the tension broke, my shoulders relaxed a little.
“…Just a little, in case it looked that way.”
Everyone burst into laughter again at that. I felt relieved by their reaction. So, to ordinary people, it just looks like we performed on a really cool stage. My heart felt much lighter. I supposed it really was just a needless worry.
“But even if it were true, what does it matter? Even if you weren’t just ‘looking’ gay but were actually gay—is that a crime? You just need to do well on the stage you prepared, and be good to your fans in your daily life.”
That was when the Shop Designer, the director of the shop, spoke up.
“Complaining about something other than those things isn’t being a fan; it’s just someone being petty because things aren’t going exactly to their taste. So, don’t pay too much attention to it.”
The Designer gave me advice as if she had perceived the very worry I was struggling with and was providing the answer. Having gained some realization from her words, I found myself nodding automatically. Right. She’s right.
Come to think of it, if someone else were in this situation, I probably would have given them the same advice. Do not worry about it. But once I was the one experiencing it, I couldn’t find my bearings. I nodded and smiled at the Designer as if to carve that advice deep into my heart.
The Designer, who smiled back, left the room, and the other stylists briefly stepped away to grab items for the setup.
“But…”
It was then. I felt a quiet, hesitating presence behind me. It was the shop’s maknae staff member, whom I had seen since about a month ago when she was brought in to assist with the concert. She looked at me through the mirror and spoke cautiously.
“Shouldn’t you still be careful, regardless?”
In an instant, the air turned strange.
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE
