Chapter 4: Unplayed Songs and Buried Truths

I seriously debated whether Kang Jaehyuk was a beast or a human.
Come on, using that many in that time? No way.
If that’s true, he’s holding back right now…
‘Who knows when he’ll snap.’
Time to practice some marital distance.
Jaehyuk whined about it being unfair, but dude, you scare me.
I flopped onto the soft sofa and turned on the TV.
This felt so natural, like I’d been lazing here for more than a day or two.
‘No wonder I didn’t make music.’
Why bother when life’s this comfy?
“Stop.”
I halted Jaehyuk as he tried to sit next to me.
I pointed to the far end of the sofa.
“Until my memories come back, none of that’s happening, so…”
“Tch.”
“…”
“I can’t forget that sight. Stay over there.”
Jaehyuk went to the end, looking bitter.
No clue when my memories will return, but come on, give me a break after that.
I mean, bluntly, my body got wrecked, right?
We even went to bathhouses together—your size should’ve killed me!
Jaehyuk’s gaze kept flickering toward me.
To dodge it, I pointed at the clock.
12:05 p.m.
I wasn’t hungry, but I had a perfect excuse… my precious tenants were on standby.
“I’m hungry.”
“You just ate snacks.”
“Not me, the landlords in my belly are starving.”
“What do you want?”
“Something cold.”
This was legit.
Hmm, something cold that’ll take a while to get.
Is there a café around here? I think it’s kinda far.
“I want patbingsu.”
“Cool, I’ll get it.”
“Thanks.”
I got up and patted Jaehyuk’s back as he headed out.
That alone made his face light up like an idiot.
Breaking through my iron walls from high school and college?
Guess I need to rethink my self-assessment.
Thought I was a noob, but maybe I’m max level.
Ding—
Clank
I watched him close the door and leave, then headed upstairs.
The diaries said I did music a year ago but haven’t touched it recently.
I was curious why.
Jaehyuk wouldn’t spill, so I’d find out myself.
‘He said there’s a music room for me up here.’
Upstairs, each room had a nameplate.
[Yeju Music]
…Real creative naming, huh?
I opened the door with “Yeju Music” on it.
“Haa.”
Had it been left untouched or just barely cleaned?
The air in here felt cold to me.
My hands trembled slightly just looking around—guess my body’s still weak.
The setup was impressive, though.
All the gear my band friends and I dreamed of was here, and the guitars—did I flex or what? So many!
I stared at the papers scattered on the desk.
‘…Huh? I did make songs?’
Labeled as “finished.”
I rushed to the computer and dug through the files.
True to form, no password—my habits haven’t changed.
“Here we go.”
Eight songs, exactly enough for an album.
The rest were marked “unfinished.”
Didn’t Jaehyuk say I never released an album?
There’s even an album title.

• Thorns (Finished) –
  How’s this not released?
  Why’re my hands shaking?
  It’s like my body’s rejecting being here.
  “Ugh, what’s with this?”
  I ignored my body and played a song.
  The intro’s familiar riffs hit me.
  ‘Those guys worked hard.’
  My band friends’ playing—I could never forget it.
  A band album, then?
  Click—
  The instrumental stopped, and I leaned in to listen.
  My voice flowed out slowly.
  ‘…Wow.’
  This answered my biggest worry since changing.
  I used to sing with a gritty, rock vibe, but my new high-pitched voice stressed me out.
  ‘Just lean into it?’
  The me from these two years nailed it, keeping my old style with this voice.
  How much practice did that take?
  “Hmm! Not bad!”
  This good, with algorithm love, it’d blow up, right?
  Tap, tap, tap.
  I tapped the desk, then felt something off.
  If I announced an album, it’d have caused a storm, right?
  Even when I scoured the internet in the hospital, there was nothing about me.
  I was a mess during that performance, all over the web.
  My personal info got doxxed.
  Come to think of it, I heard no rumors about myself.
  Lost in dumb thoughts, I listened to all the songs.
  Then, rushed footsteps.
  The tightly shut door flew open with a bang, and my body flinched.
  “Hey, what’s wrong?”
  “…”
  Jaehyuk stood at the door, panting hard.
  What’s with this guy?
  He spoke.
  “You okay?”
  “With what?”
  “…Nothing. My mistake, I guess.”
  Jaehyuk calmed his expression and said we should eat what he bought.
  Did he react like that because he doesn’t want me here?
  Gotta ask permission next time.
  We went down to the kitchen.
  “Here.”
  “Thanks.”
  I took the spoon from Jaehyuk and dug in.
  He didn’t just get patbingsu—he hit a snack bar and bought all my favorites.
  Tteokbokki, fried stuff, sundae.
  I wasn’t hungry, but my stomach was screaming for food now.
  “Good?”
  “Yeah, why’s it so tasty?”
  “You ate this stuff nonstop for a while.”
  “When?”
  “Before… the accident.”
  “…”
  Jaehyuk’s face got heavy.
  “Glad you still like it, though.”
  “Yeah.”
  While dipping fried stuff in tteokbokki sauce, I spoke.
  “Did I never release an album? The songs were really good.”
  “…Why ask?”
  “Come on, no way I’d keep that hidden. If I released it, my TS thing would’ve spread like wildfire.”
  “Nope.”
  “…Really?”
  “Yeah.”
  “I was wondering if you blocked stuff about me on my phone or computer.”
  Cough—
  Jaehyuk choked on his water at my words.
  I got up and patted his back.
  “You okay?”
  “Yeah… cough.”
  But the second I said that, he reacted like that…
  “Hey! Did you actually block stuff?”
  “…”
  “Come on, spill before I dig myself.”
  “I did.”
  “Wow, why?”
  This guy’s not like that.
  More than anything, I felt a massive betrayal.
  I’m pissed as hell.
  Jaehyuk rolled his eyes and said.
  “You kept reading hate articles, and it wrecked you.”
  “Crazy bastard! You went that far? I’d have checked my laptop eventually—were you lying from the start? A year as a shut-in?”
  “I had no choice!”
  Jaehyuk flipped it on me.
  Not yelling, but like he genuinely had no choice.
  He’s acting like he’s the victim?
  I smacked his back harder—not even a slap, just a thud.
  “Then answer one important thing.”
  “Okay.”
  “Did I know before the accident? That you did this?”
  “No.”
  “…”
  “You thought the hate was gone, that the world changed. ‘Those bastards aren’t that quiet—did they reform?’ you said…”
  “Wow… I’m not that dumb.”
  Feels like I learned something I shouldn’t have.
  I shoved my phone, sitting pretty on the table, at Jaehyuk.
  “Fix it.”
  “Why? This way, you don’t see the hate.”
  “The haters should hide, not me.”
  “No way.”
  “…”
  The peaceful table turned into a warzone over one word.
  No, it was simmering under the surface before that.
  Tap, tap, tap.
  I tapped the table and said.
  “What, you some obsessive romance novel guy? I won’t die from seeing hate.”
  “It’s not like what you remember. You’re better off not seeing it.”
  “You’re ignoring me?”
  It’s not worth fighting this hard.
  Every device in the house is like this, but outside, there’s no restriction.
  Still, I’d be masked up, covered head to toe.
  Go to a PC café? Nah, can’t.
  More than that, rage was boiling in my chest.
  Because he hid this from me before I lost my memory?
  I must’ve been an idiot, thinking the hate was gone.
  “You’ll find out when you get your memories back. Seeing it now or later, same thing.”
  “You don’t need to remember. It’s better without those. I saw how much you suffered. Experts, singers, everyone praised you, but the internet made you a punching bag for being TS. You want me to let you see that again? No way.”
  “…”
  “…”
  Jaehyuk and I glared at each other across the table.
  By the time the ice in the patbingsu melted, he spoke.
  “Ask me anything you’re curious about. Those comments are still online. I don’t want to see you read them again.”
  “…Fine.”
  He’s that against it—how can I push?
  Those sad eyes hurt to look at.
  My brow furrowed on its own.
  Why’s it like this?
  Tap.
  I stopped tapping the table and spoke.
  “Then I’ll ask again. Did I release an album?”
  If only Yeju could stay clueless, like now, forever.
  Jaehyuk opened his tightly shut mouth.
  “I told you, you were a shut-in for a year. You released an album during that time. Already…”
  “No, it’s fine. Don’t.”
  I cut him off sharply.
  Jaehyuk looked baffled at my flip-flopping.
  The notebooks I scribbled in were all from the second year.
  The first page said it.
  [Too lazy to write on the laptop, got a new notebook.]
  One short sentence.
  The other year’s records are probably on that laptop Jaehyuk gave me.
  Better to see my two years firsthand than hear Jaehyuk’s biased version.
  Pok.
  I stabbed an egg in the tteokbokki with chopsticks and put it on a plate.
  Jaehyuk’s face was covered in question marks.
  Oh, almost messed up.
  I split the egg in half.
  “Want some?”
  “Nah, eat up.”
  Was I too all over the place?
  I don’t even know why my emotions are bouncing like this.
  Guess I’ll blame it on the two precious tenants in my belly.