Idol of the Heavenly One - Chapter 53.2
“Maybe she just forgot to turn off the gas.”
Go Hee-min said it casually, as if it was nothing to worry about.
“So she only got Jae-heon’s autograph and skipped all the other members?”
Joo I-rip frowned slightly as he spoke. When the three of us nodded in confirmation, everyone’s attention naturally turned toward Baek Jae-heon. He was drinking water with his usual impassive expression, but his eyes looked a little darker than usual.
“…It’s not the first time we’ve had a fan like that.”
His tone was indifferent, but there was an odd tension hidden beneath it, something uneasy. It even carried a faint sense of fear. For someone as emotionally detached as Baek Jae-heon to have that kind of look—it wasn’t normal.
The other members must have noticed too, because no one brushed it off lightly. We all fell silent for a moment. As I recalled that fan’s face and her behavior, a chill ran down my spine.
Since the fan signing was our last schedule in China, we headed straight to the airport instead of returning to the hotel. My body moved on autopilot. Departing and returning on the same day—this was what life as a celebrity really was. On the schedule sheet, it looked simple, but living through it felt exactly like that phrase, “So busy, the modern world.”
On the plane, all the members fell asleep one by one. I leaned my head against the window, watching the clouds drift past, drifting in and out of sleep myself. My body still felt heavy, but thanks to the two IV drips I had earlier, I could tell I was feeling much better than in the morning.
As soon as we arrived at Incheon Airport, reporters and fans were already waiting in the arrivals hall. The sound of camera shutters went off in bursts, and questions poured out.
“Ji Myeong-hyeon, are you feeling better now?”
“Did you finish the fan signing without any issues? How was your condition today?”
At first, I avoided answering, but soon I smiled and nodded.
“I’m fine now. I’m sorry for worrying everyone.”
As I said the words, I realized they weren’t entirely untrue. My body still felt as heavy as lead, and my mind was foggy, but it was certainly different from how I had felt that morning. Maybe the fans’ encouragement and smiles had genuinely helped me feel a little better.
“Everyone, after the Gwanghwamun performance on December 31, you’ll have a break until January 3. You can go home then if you want. Who wants to go?”
As soon as we arrived at the dorm, our manager asked. He said that after the Gwanghwamun show, those going in the same direction could travel together, and the managers would drive us home. The moment he mentioned “going home,” the room instantly filled with excitement.
“Me.”
I raised my hand right away. The others followed, lifting their hands and asking each other where they were headed, talking cheerfully about seeing their families again. Just the thought of visiting home after so long filled me with energy.
“…”
But Baek Jae-heon didn’t react at all. He just sat there quietly, expression unreadable, listening to everyone, then turned away and walked straight to his room without a word.
I watched his back for a moment, then gave my address to the manager and cautiously made my way into the room.
“…Baek Jae-heon, you’re not going?”
Inside, Jae-heon was taking off his jacket. When I spoke, he glanced at me briefly and gave a short answer.
“Yeah.”
That was all.
“…”
He ended it there and said nothing more. Normally, I would have blurted out something like, “Why not? You should go home. Your family must be waiting.” But right then, looking at his back, I couldn’t bring myself to say it. His shoulders were slightly slumped, and the shadow he cast looked lonely somehow.
And strangely, a memory of the dream I had in the hotel in Japan suddenly came to mind.
“Mister, can’t you come again tomorrow?”
I didn’t know why that dream resurfaced now, but I was certain it came from a past life. A memory buried deep within me—a story from long ago. The home of a child whose mother had run away, leaving only a frightening father behind.
The small figure of that child, walking back home alone, came vividly to mind.
For a moment, Baek Jae-heon’s back overlapped with that child’s image. It was an inexplicable illusion.
“…Baek Jae-heon.”
I called his name quietly.
“Yeah.”
His short reply came back.
I hesitated for a moment, but the words slipped out before I could stop them.
“…Do you live with just your father?”
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