Prologue
A sharp face stared straight at me. His scrutinizing gaze carried a chill.
“An unidentified staff member… or should I call you ‘Manager Kang’ today? Maybe ‘Hairshop Employee Lee Miyeon’?”
His friendly tone made the question sting even more.
Damn it. What does he know? This felt dangerous. I forced a laugh, puffing out my chest like the real Manager Kang would. Play the part, Haebom.
“Pfft—wh-what’re you talking about, man? Still dreaming?”
Is this really your best? You sound like an idiot.
I cringed at my own terrible acting, but his next question was relentless.
“Your name.”
“Huh? What?”
“Not ‘Lee Miyeon.’ Not ‘Kang Kwonsoo.’ Your real name. What is it?”
What’s his problem?
I used to find my idol’s stubbornness charming—how he’d obsess until curiosity was satisfied. Now? Not so much.
…Does he know something?
I rolled my eyes, scrambling for an escape, but Do Eunseok leaned in until his perfect face filled my vision. My mind blanked.
“It’s you, isn’t it? The one who saved me at the fan meeting. Though back then, you were a bodyguard.”
“…!”
“How’d you pull it off? You expect me to believe I’m the only one who suspects you? A guard one day, an employee the next, now pretending to be his manager?”
Wait—he knew?!
I almost blurted something stupid. Get it together, Haebom! The lip balm’s hypnosis should still work!
Focus. Method acting. You ARE Manager Kang right now.
“Eunseok, you’ve been tired lately, right? Fatigue messes with your head—let’s get you to the car—”
He stepped closer as I babbled, backing me against the wall. When I flinched, he exhaled sharply.
“Enough pretending. I’m not joking.”
So it really didn’t work. Resentment flickered as I dropped the act.
“…How do you know all this?”
A dumb question—but I was just as baffled. The guards, the salon staff, even…
‘30 minutes have passed.’
Everyone—including Manager Kang-me from seconds ago—should’ve been cemented in his memory as separate people. Only that version of me should’ve remained!
As I stared dumbly at my watch, Eunseok tilted my chin up.
“You should talk. Unless you want to be dragged out.”
“…”
“Say it. Who are you?”
“I’m… Haebom.”
“Good. Next question: What are you doing here?”
I swallowed.
Would he believe the truth? If I wasn’t labeled a lunatic, it’d be a miracle.
Because the truth was—
“I’m…”
Stopping my idol’s self-destruction.
