“We need to go for a third round!”
“… I’m getting a bad sense of déjà vu here. Jinhee, could you handle those drunks-”
“Karaoke.”
“Karaoke is great!”
“Karaoke sounds good!”
“Hah. Fine, let’s go. Move.”
Shihoon sighed deeply and started to follow the three drunks walking ahead. Outnumbered by the drunks, he realized that exerting any decision-making power was close to impossible, and he tried to console himself with that thought. At least they weren’t suggesting more drinking.
It would’ve been easier if he were drunk too.
But… he was cautious about getting drunk. Although he had never exhibited any drunken antics, as people said, alcohol was a potion of courage.
He didn’t want unnecessary courage to overflow.
-Haa.
He exhaled another long sigh, as if to expel his complicated thoughts.
“You’re going to get shorter.”
“… What kind of nonsense is that?”
“The ground will sink.”
Yena, who had been waiting in front of the karaoke place, suddenly blurted out her usual nonsense. She was subtly smiling—guess it was meant to be a joke.
Had he been sighing a bit too much since earlier? The thought crossed his mind that he might have been worrying her.
He didn’t mind it, but he felt a bit guilty.
“… Sorry. I tend to sigh when I drink.”
“… You have good lung capacity. You must sing well. Let’s go in. The others are already inside.”
Maybe the excuse he gave made her feel a bit relieved. Yena, who urged him again, began to descend the stairs to the karaoke room with a rather spirited step.
Watching her back, he suddenly had the urge to hold her back for a moment.
“… But, why are you using formal speech again?”
He threw the question as it came to mind, not really expecting a proper answer. Yet, Yena stopped in place, slightly tilting her head as if deeply pondering.
Then, half-turning her head to glance briefly at Shihoon who was still standing on the stairs above—
“Well, I suppose I tend to use formal speech when I drink.”
She answered with a small smile and continued down the stairs.
‘… Glad she’s not drunk.’
* * * *
‘She kept mentioning karaoke, karaoke… I thought she wanted to sing!’
It had been about an hour since they entered the karaoke room. The microphone moved here and there, but it had never landed in Yena’s hand.
Initially, she had only held the book listing songs, but now, she was holding only a glass of alcohol. Was it okay? Maybe she was quite drunk. Who had even found this karaoke bar that served alcohol? She said it was a coincidence… though Ahri, who always tended to believe Yena’s words, found this hard to believe.
‘… Will she just keep drinking? I’m curious about her singing voice… bet it’s really good…’
Ahri had started debating a long time ago, wondering if forcing Yena might make her annoyed. The songs were running out, and Ahri couldn’t hold herself back anymore, carefully approaching Yena in a moment of quietness.
“Yena, aren’t you going to sing?”
“… Singing, yeah. I do. But I’m not good at it.”
Yet, Yena, still fiddling with her glass, seemed deep in thought.
What could be so serious about singing one song in a karaoke room?
‘Could it be… she once aimed to be an idol…?’
Come to think of it, it would be bizarre if she hadn’t considered being a celebrity with her looks. Dreaming of becoming a singer only to give up for some reason, still loving to sing but hesitating—this tragic backstory began unfurling in Ahri’s mind.
“Hey! Yena, sing? Here, click to make a reservation first!”
Jinhee, overhearing their conversation, quickly handed over the remote control. It seemed Ahri wasn’t the only one who wanted to hear Yena sing. Shihoon, who had been nonchalantly singing, also turned his gaze toward them.
-Screech
Thus, with everyone’s attention directed at her, Yena filled her empty glass with soju, gulped it down in one go, and then—
“… I think it’s a bit… a bit difficult. Yeah. I’ll sing.”
She carefully took the microphone from Shihoon, who had just finished his song.
With no songs left in the queue, the room fell silent, and all eyes were on Yena holding the microphone.
From the next room, faint singing could be heard—a familiar ballad. Yena’s preference might be for a song like that. Imagining her rapping or singing and dancing simultaneously felt odd.
‘Dancing… she would look beautiful. She’s good at sports too.’
Ahri, with sparkling eyes full of curiosity, pushed the remote control closer to Yena.
“Find- a place- to rest-”
She started an a cappella song. It couldn’t be said that she sang exceedingly well. Despite the echo, singing without accompaniment made it even more apparent.
Nonetheless, as they listened, their hearts inexplicably ached.
The three of them, entranced, held their breath and listened intently.
– *Clap clap clap!*
The sound of a slightly delayed applause echoed through the room. Without any accompaniment, it was hard to gauge when the song had actually ended.
Amidst the odd atmosphere, everyone exchanged glances briefly—
“…The song is nice! Is it a new release?”
“… No. It’s… an unreleased track.”
In response to Jinhee’s question, Yena avoided her gaze and gave an unclear answer, wearing a somewhat shy smile.
‘Could it be an original composition?’
Having remained quiet throughout their time at the karaoke, the first song she sang was an acapella original. It took an exceptional amount of courage and self-confidence to attempt such a feat.
Nonetheless, Yena effortlessly cleared that high bar, at least in Ahri’s view.
Maybe it was because of the thoughts she had earlier. With her face flushed from the slight inebriation, looking down while sporting a small, serene smile, Yena appeared very wistful.
Unconsciously, Ahri reached out and gently patted Yena’s shoulder, silently offering her comfort.
Yena flinched slightly but then relaxed back into her chair.
* * *
It was a night when I dreamt and remembered the dreams after a long time. It was a rare occurrence. Perhaps it was because so many things had happened today.
Or maybe it was because the greed I had been suppressing had finally surfaced.
The sudden nightmare came without any context. As dreams often do, nothing was clear—where I was, what I was doing, who I was meeting, or returning from.
When I came to my senses, I found myself curled up in a now-familiar bed.
I coiled my body tightly, as if I could make myself small enough to disappear. I used to spend entire days starting and ending like that, hidden with no movement.
Someone called out to me, saving me from my decaying self.
I dragged my heavy body towards the direction of the voice.
Crossing the small room was an immense challenge. Dreaming, I couldn’t fathom why it was so difficult. I didn’t know where I was going, or who was calling my.
Yet, something appeared in the distance, compelling me not to stop crawling.
After what felt like an eternity, I arrived before a familiar mirror. It was the one I saw every morning upon waking—the mirror I had contemplated discarding countless times.
In the end, the mirror remained, not because it was special. From the moment I first stepped into this room until now, I hadn’t discarded anything.
Even the boxes of unworn clothes had stayed long enough to gather a layer of dust. I couldn’t bear to throw away the mirror, which had traces of time embedded in it.
The small solace was that I am no longer startled when I looked into the mirror.
I stared blankly for a long time at the woman who looked back at me with a familiar expressionless face beyond the mirror – Lee Yena.
In that moment, as I watched myself awkwardly smiling as if embarrassed by this mirror showdown, I finally realized.
Ah, this is a dream.
Perhaps it was due to the smile born from an awkward performance. Probably, that was it. It had been quite a while since I stopped making such expressions. I laughed when I wanted to and stayed quiet when I wished to be so.
It had already been a long time since I stopped acting as the imagined Yena whenever I faced people.
Only after realizing that did her face sink in.
The elongated, droopy eyelids. Pale white skin. Lips curved ever so slightly playfully.
Now, even in the mirror seen in dreams, this is the face.
It was the first time.
Truly, the first.
Whether to feel relieved by that fact or to be bewildered—
I couldn’t tell. In the dream, I didn’t know anything; despite wanting to cry, my throat felt choked and I gasped silently, and the woman in the mirror coughed with me—eventually, tears streamed from both pairs of eyes.
Warmth could be felt.
And words of gratitude—and apology.
Whether I spoke them or heard them was unclear; curled up tight, those words merely hung in the air, lingering heavily.
As the choking sounds faded away, until they disappeared—
Continually echoing.
.
.
.
—Uuuuung
—Uuuuung
The sound of vibration.
I thought I might still be dreaming, but no. The feeling of this sweat-drenched blanket was unmistakable.
Slowly, I reached out my hand. It was a message. A ‘Talk’, inquiring if I had returned well, asking if my body was okay.
Welcome as it should have been, I felt conflicted. The contact was appreciated but… I wished to observe the dream a little longer.
My dazed mind hardly cleared up. There was no rush, I suppose. Looking at the ceiling and resting for a bit… might be okay.
As I lay there, halfway tethered to consciousness, what filled my head again were the thoughts I always tried hard to suppress.
… Maybe, it’s a slight indulgence.
Is it alright to live entirely as Lee Yena?