If it were just a simple argument between On Saemiro and Fade, I would’ve ignored it.
I fought with Fade recently too, so there’s no reason Saemiro couldn’t.
But no matter how I look at it, this isn’t a fight.
Fade is just hurling one-sided abuse.
And the content of that abuse really rubs me the wrong way.
When I quietly opened the door and stepped inside, On Saemiro—who had been standing facing the door—widened her eyes.
But Fade, with his back to the door, didn’t notice my entrance and kept spewing venom.
“Do you have no pride ‘cause you’re a broke-ass loser? Gonna keep playing the lackey, huh?”
Honestly, I’m confused.
Fade may be cowardly and petty, but he’s not stupid.
He wouldn’t be dumb enough to say crap like that in a photo studio run by outsiders.
Sure, there are no fixed cameras in the dressing room, and the two aren’t wearing mics since they’re in the middle of the shoot.
But can he be sure there’s no boom mic pointed toward the dressing room?
If even one mic catches this, it’s over.
What the hell is he thinking?
Then I saw Fade’s neck—red and flushed—even from behind.
And I realized.
Fade isn’t acting with any intention.
His mental state’s collapsed.
He’s lashing out irrationally, vomiting anger.
Could it really be from the pressure on the bus earlier?
Maybe that would’ve been the right level of pressure for the Fade three years from now, but not now.
As I was thinking that, I began to feel emotions swirling.
Not theirs—Fade’s or On Saemiro’s.
Mine.
Yeah, let’s be honest.
When I decided to dive back into this goddamn idol world, I acted like I didn’t remember anything.
And I did think I’d forgotten most of it.
But now I know.
I didn’t forget. I buried it.
And those memories come rising up whenever the right trigger appears.
“Who do you think people will believe? Us four or just you?”
“They say you’re pitiful, just one of Han Sion’s little flunkies.”
“Jealous that the genius dropped a few crumbs, huh?”
That’s why I saw myself overlapping with On Saemiro, who stood frozen.
I remembered myself being wounded by the words the For The Youth members had thrown.
The me who crumbled without anyone ever comforting me.
But now I’m not the Han Sion from my 7th loop.
I’ve been through dozens. I’m way colder.
Even if my emotions stir, I can still think rationally.
So I wondered.
How far can I go here?
What’s the furthest I can push it without making things irreparable?
Probably…
This far.
I kicked the back of Fade’s knee.
Thwack!
He dropped, taken off guard by the sudden blow.
Just as he started to yell, I pressed my foot down on his throat.
His choking, wheezing breaths didn’t sound bad at all.
“Think carefully. If you scream, we both go all the way. What you did. What I did.”
I stared calmly into his eyes, then slowly stepped back.
Fade clutched his throat but didn’t make a sound.
He just glared at me with a mix of panic, rage, and fear.
It’s not like I did it to save On Saemiro.
More like… I did it for the past version of myself who I saw reflected in her.
But thinking back, I think that me from back then desperately wanted someone—anyone—to say this:
“Don’t mess with my team.”
Just as the magazine photoshoot wrapped, the timing was perfect—Three Months and One Hundred Days’ self-designed outfits arrived at the studio.
Take Scene had already begun shooting, since their unified outfit was easy to prepare. Time was tight.
“Sion, how about this T-shirt with these jeans? And this belt… looks good, right?”
“If it’s supposed to be 1980s America, wouldn’t a size smaller be more accurate?”
“Sure, if we only care about realism. But this looks better, doesn’t it?”
“If that’s the reason, I’ll go with it.”
“Hey, do you actually know a lot about American fashion? The brands you listed in the concept notes were pretty spot-on.”
“I’ve seen a few movies.”
They didn’t just bring one set of clothes. They brought multiple designs in similar styles.
So we needed time to choose the final look on-site.
During that process, Goo Taehwan came up with a pretty solid idea.
“Designer, can I just wear these shoes?”
“Nike sneakers with a hanbok?”
“Just a thought—what if the time traveler didn’t prep everything? Like, maybe he forgot his traditional shoes.”
“Doesn’t matter. What matters is whether the combination looks good. Go change and show me.”
The designer had her arms crossed, but when Goo Taehwan stepped out, she instinctively uncrossed them.
The hanbok paired with sneakers created an odd but stylish imbalance.
Once all the members had finalized their outfits, the Three Months and One Hundred Days shoot began.
Honestly? It didn’t feel like a team photoshoot at all.
Color grading might help later, but for now it was a chaotic, mismatched mess.
Some members even had totally clashing tops and bottoms.
They chose based purely on design, assuming they’d fix the color balance later.
“Yeesh.”
For the professional photographers, it was like staring into the uncanny valley.
But things changed during the solo shots.
“Damn, he’s handsome!”
Sure, the energy was dialed up because of the camera, but Lee Iion was good-looking.
He wore a classic suit from the Industrial Revolution era and held an English-language newspaper. It looked great—
even though the color of his suit and shoes clashed horribly.
Next was Goo Taehwan, whose rougher looks mixed with the hanbok to give him a cool, rogue-like charm.
The sneakers peeking out beneath the hanbok only enhanced it.
Choi Jaesung, with a school uniform and backpack, looked fresh and clean.
Han Sion rocked a retro look with a hip vibe.
They tried asking him to show a somber mood—and were blown away.
His pale face made the mood even more haunting, like a stranger lost in time.
And On Saemiro, who we thought would be the biggest problem…
‘She’s doing well?’
She suddenly pulled it together.
She wasn’t as polished as Han Sion or Choi Jaesung. Her visuals didn’t hit as hard as Lee Iion or Goo Taehwan.
But compared to earlier, it was a complete transformation.
“Wow, this is great! You’re doing well!”
Her outfit had a distinct vibe too.
A futuristic, worn-down racing suit—intentionally distressed with cuts and burns on the badges and accessories.
The only thing shining like new was a silver pocket watch at her waist.
“Okay! Cut!”
With that, the photoshoot wrapped.
Time for the internal studio evaluation to rank the shoots.
“This part’s obvious, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Agreed.”
There was no debate over the top 5:
- Han Sion
- Eye Level
- Choi Jaesung
- Ready
- Lee Iion
Deciding ranks 6 through 10 took longer, but in the end:
6. See You
7. Goo Taehwan
8. On Saemiro
9. Juyeon
10. Fade
Afterward, both teams took turns picking stage props based on their rankings, wrapping up the photoshoot mission.
But that wasn’t the end of the day’s shoot.
After the photoshoot, we were scheduled to film the arrangement segment at LB Studio.
But once we arrived…
“You’re here!”
“…?”
Lee Hyunseok approached, holding a smartphone rig, looking bashful.
“Sion, if you don’t mind, could you say a really quick hello to the viewers? Just something short, really short.”
“…This isn’t live, right?”
“No, I’m recording it. We can film during break if you’re tired—”
“I’ll just do it now.”
“Oh wow, thanks for doing the video!”
What the heck.
How’d we get here?
I’d heard he was big on personal broadcasts, but I didn’t know it was this serious.
Still, I agreed without much fuss.
Lee Hyunseok’s done a lot for me.
More than recommending me for Coming Up Next, I’m grateful he got me this dedicated studio space.
Thanks to him, I never had to engage in power plays and could fill the stage with the music I wanted.
If it had been one of M-Show’s in-house labels, they’d probably have meddled with my sound.
He also personally scouted Cho Gijung to remix “Under the Streetlight” and even played drums for some improv sessions.
He even gave me full access to the studio with a fingerprint entry.
Even if he loved the music, few people go this far.
That’s why I was happy to film the video.
“Thank you for all your support. I’ll keep giving back with better performances. Thank you.”
“Sion! Do the ‘cheek poke’! Cheek poke!”
“Cheek poke?”
“It’s a viewer mission! Just once, please!”
Okay… but what the heck is a cheek poke.
I know what a Jack Coke is.
Oh—he means the cute thing where you poke your cheek with a finger.
Sorry, but I can’t do that.
I might look like this, but I’m still a certified American from macho country USA.
I gave him a finger heart instead.
I did those a lot in my past life anyway.
But sadly, that video never made it onto Lee Hyunseok’s stream.
He poured his soul into filming it, but PD Kang Seok-woo swooped in and confiscated the footage like it was nothing.
“Sir! Come on!”
Yup. The video was seized along with a lecture.
Watching that, Goo Taehwan leaned in and whispered:
“He’s funny.”
“I still don’t know what his deal is.”
“This is LB Studio, huh? You’ve worked here before, right?”
“Yeah, before I moved into the dorm.”
I didn’t come alone today. The other members came too.
They said they wanted to record everyone’s reactions to the arrangement work.
Choi Jaesung had to go home early since he’s underage and can’t film at night.
It’s kind of funny.
Back in the 3-day overnight audition, they waved it off with a parental consent form.
Now that the show’s famous, they’re playing it safe?
“….”
While I was thinking that, I locked eyes with On Saemiro.
She quickly looked away.
Like a studio ghost or something.
“All cameras are set up. Just go in and start working. There are a lot of fixed cams, but only fixed cams, so act natural.”
“Got it. Anything else we should know?”
“Nope. Just go do some real arrangement work.”
“Understood.”
And with that, the four of us entered LB Studio’s best room.
I sat at the producer’s desk. The others settled on the sofa.
“Wow, this place is awesome.”
“Right? Feels like I’ve seen this in a music video or something.”
“With a studio this good, I bet they get all kinds of sponsorship offers.”
After a bit of small talk, Lee Iion spoke up.
“Sion. During the shoot earlier, you said you had the arrangement all figured out in your head.”
“Yeah.”
“Then let’s hear it. Why was my pocket watch the only thing a different color?”
“Well… I gave it some thought. About how to best use your vocal tone. That’s when the concept came to me.”
“Time travel?”
“Yeah. I used to think concepts didn’t matter much—but with Seoul Town Funk, that wasn’t true.”
Without the time travel concept, I’d never have considered traditional instruments.
Thanks to it, those sounds gained so much more life.
That means if we set the direction right, a concept can help people enjoy a song even more.
“Your tone doesn’t match well with others. So I thought—what if you’re meant not to match?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The answer was simple.
“You’re the villain. The one trying to stop Three Months and One Hundred Days from time traveling.”
Little Pink Starfish 
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