Idol of the Heavenly One - vanish into fiction

At the staff’s signal, I stepped out from the waiting area, and the flood of lights struck my eyes. Everything turned white for a moment, then the roar of the crowd surged like waves.

Gwanghwamun Square was packed so full of people that I couldn’t even see where it ended. Just a few months ago, all I ever thought about was studying, going back and forth between school and the study café. Yet now, I was standing here.

The fan signing where I’d first met fans face to face, the music show stages, even the grand AAM Awards stage—all of those had been incredible. But this was on a completely different level. Tens of thousands of eyes focused on us all at once.

My heart began pounding in rhythm with the intro beat.

My body moved naturally with the choreography, and my mind grew clearer and clearer.

Our New Year’s performance song was “SOAR.” Since I was in charge of the opening again, I took a breath and brought the mic to my lips.

“Soar, up into the sky, fly away—”

My voice pierced through the winter night air and poured across the square. Countless light sticks waved, and cheers erupted. A shiver ran down my spine at the sound.

Even the cold winter wind felt like part of the performance. Every fingertip and every step felt alive.

For a moment, all the worries that had weighed on me disappeared. When the chorus hit, the fans’ voices rose to join ours. The square turned into a massive choir, and I was singing right at its center.

The vibrations beneath my feet spread through my entire body. In that moment, the feeling of never fully belonging anywhere seemed to ease. Even though I was living my own life now, memories of my past life still clung to me, making me feel as if I were borrowing someone else’s existence.

But now, standing in this blinding light and hearing the audience’s cheers, everything felt different. The heat, the sound, the heartbeat pounding in my chest—all of it gathered around me, and an overwhelming realization washed over me. This is my life.

The boundary that had blurred and trembled between fifty years of my past life and nineteen years of this one began to loosen with the vibrations under my feet. At least in this moment on stage, it was no longer anyone else’s life but mine, Ji Myeong-hyeon’s.

“Good work! Come on, change your clothes and let’s head home!”

As soon as the performance ended, our manager’s voice echoed through the waiting room hallway. Tonight, the members were being dropped off at their family homes so everyone could spend New Year’s with their loved ones. Normally, we’d have gone straight to another schedule, but for the first time in months, we finally had a way home.

I changed out of my stage outfit into my own clothes and picked up the bag I’d packed at the dorm earlier. It struck me that it had been so long since I’d seen my mom’s face. My fingers trembled slightly as I zipped my bag shut. Since Joo I-rip and I lived in the same direction, we’d be sharing the manager’s car.

“……”

Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw Baek Jae-heon. He wasn’t carrying any luggage, only holding his phone in one hand. It really looked like he planned to stay at the dorm. I felt a twinge of concern but forced myself to ignore it as I adjusted my bag strap.

“Happy New Year, everyone! Don’t get into trouble!”

Joo I-rip shouted cheerfully as he climbed into the car. The members laughed and waved in response, and I followed him inside, waving out the window. The others, waiting for their rides in the cold air, smiled brightly as they waved back at us.

“……”

Among them was Baek Jae-heon. With both hands shoved into his pockets, he looked at me with his usual calm expression. Then, for a brief moment, his gaze flicked to my fingertips, and he pulled one hand from his pocket to give me a small wave.

Clack. Thud.

The sound of the manager closing the door cut our eye contact short. But my raised hand remained suspended in the air, unable to lower it right away.

“Who are you waving at, a ghost?”

Joo I-rip chuckled from the seat beside me.

“Huh? Oh… no.”

I laughed awkwardly and lowered my hand. The car moved smoothly onto the road, and the figures of our members grew smaller and smaller outside the window. Even then, Baek Jae-heon’s indifferent face, hands back in his pockets, lingered vividly in my mind.

The car was warm, but my heart was not. I should have been filled with excitement about finally going home, but as I stared at the passing lights outside, only one face kept coming to mind.