The Flickering Light

Two women who looked to be in their early twenties approached him. The one with long hair stared at Ji-ho so intensely that it was obvious, but Ji-ho replied with as much composure as he could muster.

“Are you speaking to me? Is something the matter?”

Seemingly delighted by the response she hoped for, the woman hit her friend’s arm and made a fuss, whispering, “His voice is absolutely incredible.” Since he didn’t hear his name or “Pentagram” in their frantic whispering, Ji-ho relaxed his guard and asked once more.

“Did you have business with me? Or perhaps you need some help?”

“It’s not that… I figured you might say no, but you’re exactly my type. Would you mind sharing your Upstagram handle? Or a phone number would be even better!”

“Pardon?”

Ji-ho, who had been trying so hard to remain calm, let his eyes waver in shock.

It was a question he hadn’t expected at all. They hadn’t approached him because they recognized him as an idol; they had approached him simply because they liked the way he looked.

When Ji-ho fell silent after his startled reply, the woman seemed to take it as an impending rejection. Not noticing Ji-ho’s actual confusion, she spoke rapidly as if to salvage the situation.

“I’m sure you’re used to this kind of thing, but please think about it just once. It doesn’t even have to be romantic; I’d be totally down to just be drinking buddies. Do you already have a girlfriend? Wait, you are an adult, right? Ah, why? Hold on a sec!”

The woman turned away from Ji-ho to snap at her friend—who was trying to pull her away—in a thick regional dialect. Ji-ho’s expression became complicated as he watched the scene.

‘So she’s actually interested in me and trying to get my number…’

Contrary to her assumption that he was “used to it,” Ji-ho had never experienced a situation like this where a woman approached him for his number.

Since starting his life as an idol trainee in his teens, he had been surrounded by peers radiating all sorts of charms. It wasn’t that trainees didn’t secretly exchange numbers behind the company’s back, but Ji-ho had always been left out of those circles.

The reason was always that he seemed “bland” or “boring” compared to the other flashy trainees.

‘And after debuting, I didn’t even go near women to avoid dating rumors.’

The only time he’d experienced something even remotely similar was when a staff member acting as a casting director asked for his number to scout him for D&T. It was only natural that Ji-ho was flustered.

And he was even wearing a mask, with only his eyes showing.

Just as he was lost in this unfamiliar experience, the friend—who had been watching the scene with an exasperated look—finally couldn’t take it anymore and shouted.

“I told you to listen! Don’t you recognize the idol Mina is always collecting photos of? You scolded her so much for wasting her time, do you have the memory of a goldfish?!”

“What? An idol? …A-Are you really an idol?”

Since he couldn’t lie and say no, Ji-ho lowered his mask and gave a troubled, eye-curling smile.

“Yes, that’s right. Can you tell even though I was wearing a mask?”

Instead of the woman who was momentarily stunned by Ji-ho’s bare face, her friend provided the answer.

“Not exactly, but you could tell just from your back that you weren’t a regular person. But the reason I recognized you was because someone said they saw a Pentagram member at the hospital earlier… They’ve been texting me like crazy about it.”

“Crazy. It really is the idol Yu-mina keeps calling ‘Oppa’…”

The woman snapped out of it after her friend finished and took a step closer to Ji-ho. It wasn’t an uncomfortably close distance, but Ji-ho felt a strong sense of resolve emanating from her.

“I knew you looked way too polished. Ugh, how embarrassing. Um… then, could we take a photo just once? I don’t know much about idols, but… Ji-ho-ssi? After seeing you in person, I really want to be your fan.”

“You want to be my fan?”

“Forget the photo! Didn’t you hear what Mina said? She said the idol she stans got into an accident. Look, his leg is hurt and he’s clearly resting here in secret. We should pretend we don’t know. Otherwise, we’re just being a nuisance.”

The friend had initially kept quiet to tease her companion for not recognizing a celebrity, but after seeing the plaster cast on Ji-ho’s left leg, she seemed to regret it. The woman who had expressed interest also realized this and looked apologetic, but Ji-ho quickly held out his right hand.

“Give me your phone. I’m actually a master at taking photos. Let’s all take one together, including your friend. It’s fine as long as you don’t post it on the internet.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I was surprised at first, but hearing that you’ll become my fan makes me feel so good. If I had brought my own phone, I would have saved a photo too, to remember this fun encounter.”

Ji-ho fully displayed his skills as a third-year idol capable of showing all sorts of charm to fans. He treated them with a smooth manner that prevented the situation from becoming heavy and made them forget the burden of having asked for a photo.

Even without makeup or hair styling, Ji-ho’s bare face—refined by years of professional care—was enough to make anyone turn their head. Combined with a gentle smile and kind words, it was only natural for the two women standing right in front of him to feel their hearts flutter.

“D-Don’t worry! I’ll never post the photo! If people around here start a fuss about an idol coming to town, I’ll go straight to them and shut them up myself.”

“I can shut up the person who texted me right now, too. So… can I be a fan as well?”

“Haha, you don’t have to go that far. I’ll trust you.”

The three of them took a photo together. They exchanged short Q&As like, “You’re a college student home for the break? Ah, my leg? As you can see, it’s healing well enough for me to move around.” He even signed a small diary the woman pulled out of her handbag.

It was practically a mini fan meeting.

“Wow, Yu-mina is going to be so jealous when she sees this. She always says fans never get to meet their idols in person, but it really happened!”

“Would it be alright if I signed one more page in the back? I’d like to pass it on to Mina-ssi, who is my fan.”

“Aren’t you being too kind? We’ve taken up so much of your time.”

Perhaps because they were standing in front of Ji-ho, or perhaps because they were excited to tease their friend with the encounter, the two women were much more high-spirited than when they first approached.

That energy was infectious, and Ji-ho naturally found himself in a better mood.

“It’s not too kind at all. I’m signing for a fan, so I’m the one who’s excited.”

In fact, he was feeling strangely joyful.

Signing for someone was something he had done so often his hands could have worn down, yet he felt a flutter in his chest as if it were his first time. Even though he had stopped believing people when they said they’d be his solo fan or that they liked him best among the members, the affection radiating from the two people in front of him felt real.

To exaggerate, this moment was more pleasant and enjoyable than his first post-debut fansign, which he had participated in with such high expectations.

‘Well, back then, rumors had spread that I was the one who kicked Kim Jun-o out, so I have more bad memories than good ones.’

How many fans who started liking the rookie group Pentagram had skipped right past Ji-ho’s turn? He had heard of such cases during his trainee days, but experiencing it firsthand—being the target of it—had been deeply wounding.

Because that day had been such a shock, he had spent his time researching how to be loved by fans.

He searched for fan service videos of other famous idols and tried to imitate Ha-un, the youngest who had the most charm. When the other members weren’t around, he practiced hand-heart gestures in the dorm mirror.

It was thanks to those experiences that he could skillfully handle the women in a moment like this.

“Thank you! I’m really going to be your fan, Ji-ho-nim. I’ll join the fan cafe or whatever it is, and buy your future albums… Pentagram? I’ll search the group too.”

Not because he was a member of Pentagram, but because she was charmed by the person named Ji-ho—her statement that she would become his fan made him soar. This moment of being recognized for his value as an idol felt far better than any empty praise.

His self-esteem, which had hit rock bottom, was recovered just a little bit through this brief encounter.

“And… about trying to get your number, that was a mistake since I didn’t know. Please don’t be offended and try to forget about it!”

“How could I be offended when you said you liked me? As for the new album… you don’t even have to be my fan, just listen to our group’s songs every once in a while.”

“Yes, yes! I’ll go home and listen to them right away!”

He didn’t bother saying that he might not be in the group for the next promotion. They would likely hear the story from their fan friend when they got home, but for this moment, Ji-ho wanted to bask in the feeling of being a beloved idol.

The two women, who had taken the lead in lowering their voices so he wouldn’t be discovered, lingered for a while before finally disappearing. Perhaps because they had shared so much in a short time, Ji-ho felt a bit of a lingering regret.

He looked back at the mobile phone store he had hesitated to enter. He also remembered the promise the women made never to spread rumors.

‘Right. I shouldn’t have such weak thoughts already. For the time being, I’m not Ji-ho of Pentagram, I’m just Jung Ji-ho.’

Maybe his habit of seeking out malicious comments throughout his hospitalization had made him put himself down too much. Seeing that people were interested in him just by passing him on the street, he felt he had been overly depressed by the thought that he had no charm.

Ji-ho put his mask back on and gripped his crutches. Just as he was about to turn back toward the hospital—

“Oi, over here!”

A familiar voice called out from the road right next to him. It was the Village Foreman, calling out to Ji-ho through his open car window.

******************************************************************

Ji-ho quickly opened the passenger door and got into the car, placing his crutches neatly in the back seat.

“I thought I saw a lad who stood out while I was heading to the hospital, and it turns out it was you. Did your appointment end early?”

“There was no wait and the check-up was short, so I was just walking around for a bit. Did you finish your business?”

“Well, not much to it. But a celebrity really is a celebrity.”

“Did you see? Thankfully, there were people who recognized me.”

For some reason, Ji-ho felt shy that the Foreman had witnessed him diligently providing fan service to the women. This was despite the fact that he’d never felt hesitant to make cute faces or show charm in crowded places before.

“I figured from the start you wouldn’t be staying in a backwater place like this for long. When did they say your leg would be better?”

“They said it’s better to take the cast off slowly. I think it’ll take a month or two.”

“You should get better quickly and head back to Seoul. Seeing your eyes sparkle like that while looking at the kids who say they like you… you said you were an idol? It’s clearly your calling.”

To think that the Foreman—who he’d clearly identified as someone bad at expressing himself after only one day—would give such a generous evaluation. Ji-ho rubbed the back of his neck with one hand in embarrassment.

“Did I look that happy?”

“Haha, was it just your eyes? Your whole body was shouting ‘Look at how great I am.’ I thought it’d be a waste for you to be here.”

“……”

He couldn’t help the surge of emotion, even if it wasn’t quite a full outburst.

What were the flaws people always pointed out in Ji-ho? That he lacked presence, that he had no color, and that he couldn’t shine on his own.

If those words had come from a regular person, he could have ignored them, but Ji-ho had taken them to heart because they were the professional opinions of those who had seen countless idols.

‘What we want is literally a shining idol, an icon. Someone special who becomes an object of envy and makes people smile just by looking at them. But you strangely, instinctively shy away from showing yourself.’

‘Ji-ho-ssi—no, Ji-ho, your color is a bit faint compared to the other members. It’s like you’re always trying to hide yourself… hmm, is your actual personality introverted?’

Ji-ho remembered exactly what kind of eyes they used when they evaluated him, and the tone of pathetic pity in their voices.

‘I thought he was a manager or something. He’s doing all sorts of things just to get popular. Well, if even I can’t recognize his face, it must be pretty bad.’

‘Hyung is good at cooking, he checks my SNS for me, and he’s good at makeup. No matter how I look at it, Ji-ho Hyung just doesn’t suit being an idol.’

‘What? Where’s Ji-ho Hyung? Is he not doing it with us again? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Hyung in a brief challenge.’

Or the words people around him threw out without much thought—Ji-ho had unconsciously shrunk because of them. He had even started devaluing his own worth.

He didn’t know when this bad habit had started.

Was it after he ruined the group’s debut with the rumors surrounding him? Was it from his trainee days at D&T where he was criticized for the same flaws over and over? Or—

‘…Don’t go thinking you’re better than your friends. I can’t let you leave like your mother did. You understand your grandmother’s heart, don’t you, our Ji-ho?’

Was it from a past much older than that?

“Foreman… am I really someone who can shine on my own?”

Perhaps sensing that Ji-ho’s question wasn’t a light one, the Foreman was silent for a moment. He didn’t scold him for saying useless things with his usual rough speech.

After a moment, the Foreman’s solemn answer was as soft and warm as if he knew Ji-ho’s entire situation.

“There isn’t a person in this world without a strength, but you, Ji-ho, are the most brilliant lad I’ve ever met. Of course. Whether it’s a house or a person, how dazzling would it be if the light was always on? Sometimes you have to live with it turned off.”

“Do you think so? That it’s just… turned off for a bit, and will shine again one day?”

“Yeah. So until the electricity comes back to your house, eat and sleep at my place. And when the light turns back on later, you can head back then. Got it?”

“Haha, Foreman. Was your trip to the hardware store for the electricity problem at my place? Yes, I’ll wait patiently, just like you said. Everyone in this village is so kind that I don’t want to leave quickly anymore.”

Ji-ho burst out laughing. It felt like the first time in a long time he had laughed without worry.

He didn’t know if it was because the Foreman’s sudden mention of electricity was funny, or if it was because he was grateful for the effort the man he’d just met was making to comfort him.

But Ji-ho felt something that he thought had vanished start to regrow inside him. Looking at the village entrance appearing in the distance, he felt like he knew what he had to do during his rest period.

He was someone who knew how to shine. He also found joy and happiness in receiving the attention of others. People called such individuals idols.

Ji-ho was still an idol.

That was enough.