“Go on a variety show in my place tomorrow, will you?”
“A-are you out of your mind?!”
The words flew out of my mouth on instinct.
My voice must have been louder than I thought, because Park Song-hu frowned.
‘Eek!’
He had the exact same face as me, but when he scowled, he was scary as hell!
“A-anyway, I absolutely can't do that.”
“Why?”
“There are so, so many reasons I don't know where to start!”
I'm the kind of person who runs out of oxygen just from standing in front of people.
And he wanted me to stand in a television studio? With countless cameras and countless people watching?
I wasn't joking. I might actually faint.
“You said you were grateful a minute ago. You sure had nothing to say while you were gobbling up my money.”
“Th-that was c-consolation money you gave me to keep me shut in my room!”
Disbelief spread across Park Song-hu's face.
“What the hell are you talking about? Why would it be consolation money?”
“……?”
It wasn't?
I'd always taken it to mean, ‘Keep your mouth shut and stay holed up in your room.’
“You really thought that?”
“…….”
Park Song-hu seemed about to say something, then closed his mouth.
“Forget it. Just do as I tell you.”
“Y-you can do it yourself! You look completely fine, so why should I go in your place?”
“Why, you—!”
“!”
It was only a threatening sound, but I involuntarily took a step back.
Park Song-hu was sitting on the bed, well away from me.
“Shh. Keep it down. What if someone outside hears you?”
……Right. My very existence was confidential.
I gulped.
If anyone found out, it would be a disaster.
With his index finger against his lips, Park Song-hu lowered his voice a notch and went on.
“And if I die while my image is still wrecked by that conduct scandal, people will remember me as trash forever.”
“…….”
Ah.
I hadn't thought of that.
If he left this world with his image as it was, that would forever be the final word on Park Song-hu as a person.
So…… my brother wanted to go on the show badly enough to ask me to stand in for him, because he didn't want that to happen.
“You only have to do it once. This will be my first and last appearance on the show.”
“……Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Ah, but what does your manager think about all this?”
“My manager doesn't know, obviously.”
……What?
“If he found out, he'd run straight to the agency head, and all hell would break loose. The head would never allow it, either.”
“Th-then you're telling me to fool your manager, too?”
“Yeah.”
“Is he a new manager, by any chance?”
“No? He's been my manager for five years.”
“……! Then how am I supposed to fool him?!”
Park Song-hu shrugged.
“You'll have to act the part. Pretend you're me.”
……Hey!
***
Standing in for my twin brother.
What was this, some over-the-top soap opera?
‘Even a soap opera would get torn apart for being unbelievable if it used a plot like this.’
The moment I got home, I collapsed in the entryway.
Without even taking off my shoes, I leaned against the wall and stared blankly at the ceiling.
“Mew.”
Louie padded over and sat beside me.
It was as if the cat were asking how my first trip outside in ages had gone…….
“Louie.”
I hugged Louie tight.
Louie twisted and squirmed in protest, but this time I couldn't let go.
“I think I have to go on a variety show tomorrow.”
“Mew?”
“And pretend to be a top star while I'm at it.”
Louie's head tilted to one side.
You find it ridiculous, too, don't you?
So do I.
Someone who'd spent all his time shut in his room now had to stand in front of cameras and pretend to be a top star overnight.
“Phew…….”
I took off my shoes and went into my room.
Louie followed right behind me.
I sprawled out spread-eagled on the bed, took out my phone, then put it down again.
‘A terminal diagnosis.’
I blinked up at the fluorescent light.
To be honest, I still wasn't sad.
It just…… felt strange.
‘Ah, this isn't the time for that!’
I shook my head from side to side.
There was something I needed to do right away.
I took out the script I'd been given in the hospital room.
<Our Hospital>
A famous, long-running variety show that was a flagship program for JTBS.
Its premise was that patients, each with a fictional illness, gathered in a hospital room, with a new guest appearing as a new patient every week.
It was a variety show I personally liked, too…….
‘I'm actually going to appear on it? And tomorrow, of all days?’
It didn't feel real at all.
I turned a page of the script.
“……Is that all?”
For a moment, I couldn't believe my eyes.
There was hardly any dialogue.
It only laid out the broad sequence: guest enters, illness is revealed, conversation, mini-game. There were no specific lines or reactions at all.
In other words, almost everything was improvised!
“…….”
I already felt like I was going to foam at the mouth.
If there had been lines, at least I could have memorized them.
‘Improvisation.’
Someone who couldn't even speak properly in front of people had to improvise!
‘I have to tell him I can't do it, even if it's at the last minute!’
I snatched up my phone.
I found Park Song-hu in my contacts.
But my finger stopped dead above the call button.
I remembered the look on Park Song-hu's face when he'd gone, ‘Why, you—!’ in the hospital room.
“…….”
I quietly put the phone down.
Then I recalled what Park Song-hu had added when he gave me the script.
-Just because it's a reality show, you don't need to be nervous. The regular cast will play along with you.
-…….
-Hey.
-…….
-Are you listening?
-…….
-Did you faint standing up or something?
After that, with my mind half gone, I'd barely managed to nod.
“Louie, the manager's coming to pick me up at nine tomorrow morning…….”
“Meooow.”
I picked up the note with my brother's address and front-door code on it.
A luxury apartment in Gangnam.
He'd told me to go there in advance, at dawn, and wait.
I'd have to wear his clothes, stay in his home, and greet his manager while pretending to be him.
‘If I need to be there by nine in the morning, when on earth do I have to get up?’
I usually went to sleep around five in the morning.
In other words, nine a.m. was the middle of the night by my standards.
For now, I'd set an alarm for seven and go to bed early…….
Oh, right.
I didn't have any chapters in reserve.
If I didn't write today, I'd have nothing to post tomorrow.
Tomorrow's schedule started in the morning.
‘I made a promise to my readers…….’
I hurried over to the computer.
The cursor blinked in an empty window.
I placed my fingers on the keyboard.
“…….”
Not a single word came out.
Usually, I could squeeze something out one way or another.
Once I'd written it, I could always revise it.
But today, really, truly, for real, all that happened was the cursor blinking.
Then someone started projecting images straight into my brain.
Cameras rolling, lights coming on, people staring at me!
Me stammering, my face turning red, freezing up without saying a word!
And then the manager realizing it and saying, “You're not Park Song-hu, are you?”
“…….”
When I came to my senses, I had written something after all.
[Park Song-hu, you crazy bastard]
I couldn't go on like this.
In the end, I opened the announcements board.
=====
[Notice of Hiatus]
Hello, this is Mini Song, the author.
Due to personal circumstances, I will not be posting an installment tomorrow.
I'm sorry.
=====
‘Those personal circumstances are a little larger in scale than usual…….’
Who would pay any attention to a hiatus notice from an author with subscribers numbering only in the hundreds?
Still, I was sorry.
Surely there were people waiting with their necks stretched out for the next installment of my novel…….
‘……There are, right? At least one?’
I turned off the monitor and leaned back in my chair.
I looked up at the ceiling.
At some point Louie had climbed onto the desk and was gazing blankly at the cat's own face reflected in the dark monitor.
Bzzzz—
An unexpected call.
[Park Song-hu]
The moment I saw the name on the screen, I straightened my back without thinking.
He wasn't about to ask another favor, was he?
“H-hello.”
-Are you asleep?
“……No, I'm not.”
As if I could sleep.
-I told you this in the hospital room, but don't force yourself to do things just because you think you have to imitate me.
“……What?”
-You don't know me.
“…….”
……That stung a little.
But it was true.
We were twins, but we'd lived like strangers since we were six.
What sort of expressions he usually made, how he spoke, what gestures he used.
All I knew was the Park Song-hu I'd seen on TV, just like anyone else.
-First, don't try to talk too much. Not with the manager or at the salon. I'm usually pretty quiet anyway.
That was a huge relief.
I tended to get awkward in front of people. If I kept my mouth shut, it might at least be less noticeable.
-And don't forget to speak casually to the manager.
“…….”
He'd emphasized that in the hospital room, too.
For me, it was like being told to speak casually to someone I'd never met. ……Still, if I didn't want to get caught, I'd have to do it.
“Ah, okay.”
-That. Fix that, too.
“……What do you mean?”
-Just say ‘Yeah’ and leave it at that, or don't answer at all.
“…….”
-Hey.
“…….”
-Don't tell me you're keeping quiet because I just told you not to answer.
“……Yes!”
-Good job.
……What was with the sudden praise?
-I'm hanging up, then.
Beep, beep, beep—
The call ended.
***
Jo Yong-gi had become Park Song-hu's road manager five years ago.
At the time, he'd been the youngest manager at the agency, having joined only six months earlier, and he'd been saddled with an assignment all his seniors avoided.
The reason they avoided it was simple.
……Park Song-hu had a fucking awful personality!
The senior managers had offered their advice openly.
-Did you know? No manager's lasted more than a year under Park Song-hu. How long do you think our Yong-gi will last?
-Yong-gi, you've got courage, right?
-They say once you've worked as Park Song-hu's manager, you can sing about how beautiful the world is.
In fact, all three of his previous managers had quit before completing a year.
But Jo Yong-gi was still here, five years later.
If someone asked why, he honestly couldn't give a neat explanation himself.
It was just that…… every now and then.
Very occasionally.
On the rarest of occasions.
There was something.
On a film set where the work had run late, Jo Yong-gi had been waiting alone in the car for Park Song-hu.
It was past two in the morning when a can of coffee was set down with a plunk through the open window.
-Drink this.
That was all he said.
When Yong-gi turned his head, Park Song-hu had already climbed into the back seat and closed his eyes.
Yong-gi was about to thank him, but Park Song-hu spoke first, showing only the side of his shoulder.
-Aren't we leaving?
Before he knew it, five years had passed, and he was the sole survivor.
His seniors had even asked him seriously once whether he might have Stockholm syndrome.
‘I hope his return goes well, anyway.’
Park Song-hu's image had hit rock bottom after the conduct scandal.
This appearance on <Our Hospital> wouldn't turn his image around in an instant, but perhaps he could gradually recover…….
‘……Could he?’
Honestly, if you judged by the video alone, Park Song-hu looked like a complete lunatic. But Jo Yong-gi saw it differently.
He'd been by his side for five years. He knew something must have happened for Song-hu to blow up that badly.
But Park Song-hu wouldn't talk about the incident, so he couldn't ask.
The navigation system announced that he'd arrived.
Eight fifty.
As always, he was ten minutes early.
‘Huh?’
For a moment, he couldn't believe his eyes.
Song-hu was already outside, waiting.
He almost always came out right on time.
He was even late occasionally, but this was the first time he'd come out ahead of time and waited like that.
But now wasn't the time to be surprised about that.
Because…….
“……Song-hu, what are you doing there?”