Chapter 10
Hmm.
Hmmmm…
I thought deeply as I typed.
The familiar instrumental played through my headphones—the one I had listened to so many times. I did struggle a bit with that part while making it… but it turned out fun in the end.
[Nebula] Yeah. It’s a good song.
[JUN] Right? It feels a bit different from the first-place song, but I actually like this one more.
Better than Supernova Remnant?
I tilted my head and asked.
[Nebula] What do you like more about it?
[JUN] First… it feels like it was made more comfortably than Supernova Remnant. And honestly, it feels higher quality too.
No way.
Supernova Remnant was something I had carefully prepared in advance.
There was no way this casually made song was better.
[JUN] I think it’s just my taste. Maybe that’s why.
“…Alright.”
If it was just preference, there was nothing to argue about.
We kept talking about music late into the night—
And I fell asleep like I passed out.
Strangely—
I felt pretty good.
* * *
It had been a month since I met JUN.
And now—
I had to admit it.
He was… a really good person.
No—
A very good person.
[JUN] I’ll join in 10 minutes.
He never pried.
He respected boundaries.
If I showed even the slightest discomfort—
He would smoothly change the topic.
He didn’t make fun of others.
He didn’t dominate conversations.
He listened well.
He didn’t pretend to know things he didn’t.
Simple things—
But hard to do.
In short—
He was a good person.
Too good for someone like me.
Sometimes that made me uncomfortable—
But I told myself that was just my own problem.
Beep.
He joined the voice chat.
—Hello.
His voice was pleasant.
I typed.
[Nebula] Did you eat lunch?
—Haha, weekends mean late meals.
Only JUN used voice.
I stuck to typing.
Talking out loud still felt uncomfortable.
—Oh, there’s a new announcement for Stardust.
[Nebula] What’s that?
—It’s a survival program. Amateur singers compete, and the winners get to debut with a company.
—They even give 100 million won as prize money.
I vaguely remembered something like this.
Back when I was busy as an idol—
There had been a similar show.
Maybe this was it.
[Nebula] Do you have to win to debut?
—Yeah. First and second place.
I didn’t remember exactly how popular it was—
But I knew it had been a big hit.
—Wow… the judges and trainers are top-tier.
He sounded impressed.
I wasn’t interested.
But I listened anyway.
—They’re still recruiting participants.
[Nebula] Are you thinking of joining?
—Maybe… I’ll decide after seeing the final lineup.
From what I knew—
JUN was talented.
He could probably win.
But…
If he had actually won back then—
I would’ve known.
[Nebula] I think you could get first place.
—Haha, thanks. If the trainers are good, I might try.
I typed quickly.
[Nebula] Why?
—Well… I’ve never properly learned singing. I want to.
—Real training is expensive and hard to find.
…Joining a survival show just to learn?
That was… unusual.
—And I want to perform on stage.
My hands stopped.
Stage.
That vivid feeling—
The heat.
The crowd.
[Nebula] Sounds like a good experience. What are the requirements?
—Basically anyone. Ages 1 to 99.
—Just not criminals or trainees under companies.
[Nebula] Pretty open.
—They’ll filter people in early rounds.
He hummed while reading.
Was he really going to apply?
I thought about giving advice—
Then stopped.
Who was I to advise anyone?
—Oh right! I was supposed to send you my track!
—Sorry, sending now.
This was why we talked.
Not just chatting—
But exchanging music and feedback.
I had refused at first—
But his persistence won.
I opened the file.
—Take your time. I’ll eat while you listen.
[Nebula] Okay.
The melody played.
Incomplete—
But his style was there.
Trendy.
Good.
Honestly—
Too good to critique easily.
If I pushed too much—
It might ruin his style.
I thought hard.
Tried different tweaks.
Analyzed everything.
Because—
He seemed to think my skills were amazing.
And I didn’t want to disappoint him.
When he came back—
I explained everything in detail.
He was impressed.
And then—
He sent me a Starbucks gift card.
[Nebula] You didn’t have to…
—No, I really wanted to. Honestly, feedback like this should be paid.
—If you don’t like Starbucks, I can send something else—
[Nebula] It’s fine…
I panicked and made typos.
But he kept sending more.
Chicken.
Pizza.
Burgers.
“…This is too much.”
I saved them all reluctantly.
And just said thank you.
But he kept thanking me too.
Saying he finally understood composing better.
We ended up thanking each other repeatedly—
Until it got ridiculous.
Then we both left to work.
“What’s all this?”
My mom looked at the pizza boxes.
“…I got them.”
“From who?”
…
I couldn’t explain properly.
So I just said—
“…A friend.”
“Tell your friend thank you.”
“…Okay.”
We ate together.
I wasn’t very hungry—
But I couldn’t waste it.
That would be disrespectful.
Mom kept expressing gratitude—
To someone she didn’t even know.
And I stayed quiet.
* * *
I never expected—
That someone I knew nothing about—
Not their face, job, or even age—
Would become this close to me.
It was as unexpected—
As pineapple on pizza.
