Chapter 2: The Second Draw

Shim Eun-chan slowly opened his eyes.

For a moment, he felt nothing at all.
There were no sounds—just a silent space.
With a dazed sensation, as if every memory in his brain had been wiped clean, he blinked a few times before suddenly springing up from his spot.

He grabbed the blanket covering his body.

As he scanned his surroundings once more, a slow frown formed between his brows.

His mind was so blank that he could barely remember what kind of life he had even lived.
Starting from the corner of the room, then the ceiling, and finally the bed he was lying on, Shim Eun-chan realized where he was.

This was his room in the old B the 1 dorm.

“……What is this?”

What am I doing here?

Into Eun-chan’s empty mind, memories from before he fell asleep began to seep back in slowly, like water soaking into a wad of cotton.
Right—this definitely wasn’t the end.
It couldn’t be.
……Yes.
He had gone down to the provinces, thinking it was his last day.
He even remembered scraping together all his money to buy soju, thinking he’d drink for the first and last time in his life.

He remembered the damp, unpleasant smell of the cheap motel bed.

And yet, the place he was in now was the room he had used back when he was active as a member of B the 1.

“……Am I dreaming?”

Just as Shim Eun-chan muttered that with a deep frown—

“Eun-chan, wake up.”

“……Huh?”

After three knocks, the door opened and someone called his name as they stepped inside.

It was Jung Min-yu, the oldest member and leader of the group.

“……Hyung?!”

Was he really dreaming?
If not, had he gone insane?
Otherwise, there was no explanation.
Jung Min-yu had left the team due to military enlistment, and they had lost contact afterward.
How could someone like him be here?

Seeing Eun-chan’s expression twist as if he’d seen a ghost, Jung Min-yu instantly grew serious.

“Eun-chan, are you okay?
What’s with that look?
Are you sick?”

“No, I’m fine.
……But, hyung, is it really you?
Why are you here?”

Jung Min-yu looked baffled by the question, but soon realized Eun-chan wasn’t joking.
His expression stiffened as he asked again if Eun-chan was really okay.

The last notification window flashed through Eun-chan’s mind.

Was that real?

From that moment on, it felt as though oil had been poured onto rusted gears—his thoughts, which had refused to turn, finally began moving properly.

“Eun-chan?
Shouldn’t you go to the hospital?”

“Ah… no.
No, no.
No, really, I’m fine.
I’m just a bit out of it.
I’m okay.
Just… give me a moment.”

As Eun-chan repeated “no” several times, Jung Min-yu asked once more, as if to confirm.
Eun-chan abruptly stood up and walked toward the desk.

A mirror.
He needed to check the mirror.

Spotting the small tabletop mirror tucked into a corner of the cluttered desk, Eun-chan froze.
His fingertips grew cold, and the sound of his heartbeat swelled until it seemed to fill his entire body.
Holding his breath, he clenched his teeth, shut his eyes tightly, and picked up the mirror.

And then—

“………Huh.”

His lips trembled.

The face reflected in the mirror was his face from before the plastic surgery.

Shim Eun-chan traced his features as he stared at the mirror.
It was the pre-surgery face from his memories—the face he had wanted to return to so desperately.
His nose stung, and he bit down hard on his lip.

“……Eun-chan?”

At Jung Min-yu’s suspicious voice, Eun-chan snapped back to his senses and lowered the mirror.
He turned his head slowly, as if it were creaking.
Jung Min-yu was smiling awkwardly.

“Oh.
Yeah.
Our Eun-chan.
That’s right.
Handsome, huh.”

Oh my god.

When he imagined how his behavior must have looked to someone else, his ears burned with embarrassment.
But more than that shame, the joy of seeing Jung Min-yu again gradually overwhelmed everything else.

“No, that’s not it, hyung.
……I missed you.”

Jung Min-yu didn’t push him away when Eun-chan suddenly hugged him.

“……Yeah.
Right.
I missed you too.
Didn’t get to see you last night.”

Jung Min-yu looked thoroughly bewildered, yet he patted Eun-chan’s back while delivering a completely unintentional heart-fluttering line.
It had been impulsive, but it was sincere.

At first, Eun-chan had resented Jung Min-yu for changing his number without telling anyone—not the company, not the other members.
But over time, that resentment had turned into longing.

Only later did Eun-chan realize how much he had leaned on Jung Min-yu as both leader and eldest hyung.
At this point in time, Jung Min-yu was twenty-three.
In the real world, that was still an age where you were treated as the youngest.
Eun-chan didn’t understand that reality back then.
He only realized it much later, when he himself reached Jung Min-yu’s age.
After that, he regretted many times that he hadn’t shared the burden more.

Watching Eun-chan pull away, Jung Min-yu gave a bitter smile.

“You look worse than I do after drinking last night.
Get yourself together and come out.
Let’s wash up and talk with the others.”

Eun-chan wanted to correct him and say that wasn’t it, but there was no way to explain.
So he stayed silent and nodded.

After ruffling Eun-chan’s hair roughly, Jung Min-yu left the room.
When Eun-chan heard the click of the door closing, he collapsed onto the bed, clutching his face with both hands.

So those memories were real.
He was too stunned and bewildered to speak.

He slapped his own cheek, and a groan slipped from his mouth.

“Ow.”

As expected—no, frighteningly enough, of course—it hurt.

“……What is this, seriously.”

As he sighed, his phone entered his field of vision.
For a while after debuting, they hadn’t even been allowed phones.
It was only after the youngest member, Lee Hae-min, became an adult that they’d secretly gone together to open phone lines without the manager knowing.

Which meant—

Checking the date, Eun-chan frowned.

He should have realized it the moment Jung Min-yu mentioned drinking.

This was the day after Lee Hae-min—who had been both the visual and center of the group—announced his departure.

A large portion of B the 1’s fans were Hae-min fans, so his exit was a massive blow.
It wasn’t just about their career.
The shock of losing a teammate who had lived and struggled alongside them like family was enormous, leaving behind a deep sense of emptiness.
Even so, reminding himself that he was an idol, Eun-chan resisted the temptation while the other members drank.
He stayed sober, partly because he feared causing a scandal if he slipped up, and partly because someone needed to look after the others with a clear head.

So I really was that professional, huh.

The realization made him let out a hollow laugh.

But that aside—

Eun-chan rubbed the cheek that still throbbed with pain and stared at the blanket for a moment.

He remembered seeing the notification window.
He remembered choosing to continue being an idol.

But—

“That makes no sense.”

There was no way it could be real.
No matter how desperately he’d wished to live again, there was no way he could actually return to the past.

Unless it was a dream.

“……Right.
Did I just dream all that?”

Eun-chan’s eyes widened as if he’d found the answer.
It sounded plausible, even to himself.
Everything had been a dream—the botched plastic surgery, the bleak days, all of it.

That explanation made sense.
Far more sense than him actually regressing.

Just then—

Bam-pa-bam!

Music sounded from somewhere.
Eun-chan looked around.
It wasn’t his phone, and it wasn’t coming from a speaker.
Then where—what is this?

A notification window appeared vividly before his eyes.

[Back to being an idol once more!

We applaud your courage for choosing the hard road instead of the easy one.

Regressor who chose to walk the same path again.
Advantage activated.

Please draw two cards.

No blanks.]

Before he could even finish thinking that it sounded like some kind of gacha system, ten cards with identical patterns appeared in front of him.

“……It’s real?”

Eyes stretched wide as if they might tear, Eun-chan slapped his cheek again.
It still hurt.

This was real.
Not a joke—this utterly absurd thing was actually happening.

But then—why this point in time?
If he was going to regress, couldn’t he have gone back to before debut?
At least before entering as a trainee?
Why this moment of all times?

Of all possible points, why here?
It made no sense.
This was a time with such little room to change the future.
If nothing else, it could’ve been the day before Lee Hae-min left.
But the day after?

Pushing aside the wave of logical and reasonable doubts flooding in, he stared at the floating notification window.

Should he really draw these?
Suspicion crept in.
What if something was actually wrong with his head?
What if things got even worse after this?

The situation was so nonsensical that it surpassed his ability to process it, making his stomach churn with dizziness.

In the end, everything in the world came down to luck.

They say those who work hard can’t beat those who enjoy it, and those who enjoy it can’t beat those who are lucky.
And Shim Eun-chan was not a lucky person.