An unknown Ion—one of Zero One’s fans—who’d become a fan after listening to Zero One’s comeback album felt her heart pounding like it had lost its mind. The numbered ticket in her hand got crumpled to hell because she couldn’t beat the nerves.
It was even her first time ever winning a fan sign event.
Since it was her first time liking an idol, everything felt unfamiliar, but with the single-minded conviction that she’d absolutely regret it if she didn’t see this with her own eyes, she applied—and got lucky and won.
Because she had no idea what she was supposed to say, she searched online and memorized all the “famous” lines people said you had to use, and when someone told her you absolutely had to bring a light stick, she brought two.
‘Why am I this nervous?’
After a staffer checked the Post-its and album she’d brought, she could finally look the members in the eye for real.
The first member to greet her was Cheon Sayun. Was this his plan, to seize the initiative from the start just with his face?
True to being Zero One’s official visual, Cheon Sayun was sparkling.
The textbook definition of pretty-handsome, and that mysterious golden ratio you couldn’t possibly understand—how the hell did all those features fit on that tiny face?
“Hello, miss.”
‘Holy shit.’
Looking at Cheon Sayun, she understood what people meant when they said nobody stands a chance against a handsome face. Especially that smiling face—it was a face that needed to be preserved and passed down for generations. How could someone possibly share an Australopithecus ancestor with her? No way.
“Can I hold your hand, miss? My hands feel empty. I think I’ll feel better if you hold them.”
“Ah, yeah! Totally! Seriously! Of course!”
Without realizing it, she shoved both hands forward. With that face asking for something, how could you not give it?
After that, too, Cheon Sayun kept answering questions she hadn’t even asked yet, asking her questions, and picking out exactly the words she wanted to hear and delivering them one by one. Cheon Sayun’s soft, gentle voice had a talent for making people feel at ease.
If they’d talked just a little longer, she probably would’ve spilled her entire life story.
Next was Im Sebin. Was it because of that wistful atmosphere of his? Somehow it made her feel like she should wait demurely, so she couldn’t help straightening her posture on her own.
“Hello. Could you tell me your name?”
“Please write… Yeoul.”
Even after that, Im Sebin answered each question carefully in a calm tone. A quiet, beautiful man could just sit there without saying anything and still raise your quality of life, so it was fine if he wasn’t talkative. No, if anything, that calm presence made her feel like her heart was turning reverent.
‘The way he got shy when I dropped a line was kind of cute.’
Over that already freakishly pale face, the awkwardness was obvious to anyone, so she felt like a cringe middle-aged boss with zero sense of humor who’d made a bad joke—but whatever. It was still a satisfying reaction.
“Hi— I have something I want to say, can I say that first?”
And then Kyeon Inwoo. Even before she came to the seat across from him—meaning, from the moment she said goodbye to Im Sebin and moved over—Kyeon Inwoo kept lightly chatting at her and grinning.
“I’ve decided I’m quitting Zero One and joining a band.”
“Huh…?”
“Hey, hurry up and ask me what band it is.”
Isn’t the fan supposed to do that first? Unlike the two before him, his features were bold and clean, and a mischievous smile hung over his face.
“Your Husband.”
Because he seemed satisfied with his own line, he laughed out loud, and seeing that expression made her think of the main character in a youth sports drama. Seriously. Without even meaning to, she ended up laughing along with him. Kyeon Inwoo had this power to make even the listener feel good the whole time he talked.
And finally, it was the turn of the member who’d led her onto the road of becoming a Zero One fan.
Just as she was about to move to the seat across from Go Youngin, she finally noticed the gaze Go Youngin had been quietly holding on her this whole time.
‘Since when have you been staring at me?! I should’ve brought those calming pills. What is even happening with Go Youngin’s face?!’
Every time she looked at that face—her type from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes—she couldn’t stop the sigh that rose out of her.
It was the gap between how he looked when he didn’t smile versus when he did, and those strangely subtle eyes, that had turned her into this. She hadn’t planned on liking an idol this much!
“H-hey, Youngin! You looked insanely pretty in this music video!”
She felt her voice tighten on its own from the tension.
“If it looked that way to you, miss, then it was a successful music video.”
‘Go Youngin, what are you doing to me?’
It was such a lethal answer that she forgot, on the spot, the line she’d prepared for this day so she could speak without shaking. Her bank account was empty now, but she didn’t regret it. Seriously, what was I even going to say? For now, she decided to just blurt out whatever came to mind.
***
“But seriously, everything’s great, but there’s just one thing I want you to fix.”
—Ding
[ Condition 47│A perfect idol must also show a professional side in fan service. ]
The Status Window that had suddenly appeared between me and the fan was blinking, blinking with light.
I paused my hand and slowly looked down at the jacket I was signing. I’m holding hands, I wrote her name without messing it up, I signed properly, I’m writing a short thank-you note, too…
I knew the line, so I was already thinking ahead about what to say. Should I act like I know it? Pretend I don’t? What kind of reaction would make her happiest? But then the Status Window popped up with it.
No, seriously, what the hell. I didn’t do anything that would be a big problem. Did I do something weird…? All I did was sign. Just now. Out of nowhere. That can’t be it… Did I write the name wrong?
I didn’t want to take a joke dead-serious, so I answered right away. I didn’t want to see her get awkward because I suddenly got solemn, either—so I acted only “serious” enough to show it was obviously a joke.
“Really?”
“Huh? Ah, n-no! No no!!!!!”
“Then…”
“I mean fix my heart!!! Fix my heart!”
So it really was a joke. You insane bastard, Status Window. Were you trying to make me go serious and embarrass the fan, too? I smiled as harmlessly as I could and kept writing. To be fair, I almost got heart palpitations.
‘Wait, then why did the Status Window show up?’
What’s the problem, fuck. It never tells me anything properly, but it sure loves making my notifications go off like crazy.
Even if I wanted to focus only on the fan sign event, the Status Window would never disappear from in front of my eyes unless a listed clause was satisfied—unless a Caution or Warning came in. It was obnoxious as hell.
Sure, it wasn’t the first or second time. It was basically everyday life at this point. That didn’t mean it wasn’t still irritating.
[ Condition 9│A kind idol leader gives members appropriate advice. ]
You’ve got to be kidding me. So that was the real problem. Shouldn’t you have told me this first from the start? You piece of shit.
Isn’t this the kind of thing I’m supposed to be doing on my own by now? I’ve got seniority—there’s no way I’m going to fail at something like this…
…Suddenly, Pyo Jaeho came to mind.
‘That bastard exists.’
I’d been too busy signing to think about it.
‘Yeah. I’ve still got a long way to go before I’m used to paying attention to other people.’
And of all things, my eyes landed on what was written on the Post-it placed in front of Pyo Jaeho’s seat next to me.
Normally, no matter what you wrote, they’d at least talk while they wrote something back, but Pyo Jaeho was stubbornly doing some kind of silent meditation. In so many ways, he was a consistent little shit.
Q. Please tell me just one thing—tell me to do well on my exam T_T..
Pyo Jaeho kept up a long silence and just stared blankly at the fan’s Post-it question. Like he was genuinely thinking about it, his expression was seriously serious for no reason.
Because of that, even the fan watching him from right in front couldn’t bring herself to say anything and just kept looking at Pyo Jaeho awkwardly. Right when I was wondering if I needed to do something, the mouth that had been sealed shut like it was glued finally opened.
“If you came here instead of studying, doesn’t that mean you’re not planning to do well on the exam? That doesn’t add up.”
Even someone with no social awareness could tell the fan standing in front of Pyo Jaeho was flustered.
So you really are the problem, Pyo Jaeho. Fuck. The fact that he hadn’t meant it maliciously made it even more hopeless.
I’ll say this with certainty: Pyo Jaeho definitely got puberty way too hard.