Chapter 07 – The Offer
Winter let out a short, cold laugh — the kind that said, I don’t buy a word you’re saying.
“I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but just act normal. Don’t bother with excuses.”
Ji-hyun froze for a moment, but Winter was quick to regain her usual icy calm. Her next words hit like frost.
“You wouldn’t know how to apologize anyway.”
The air between them was painfully tense.
On the table, their trays told the story better than words could — Ji-hyun’s half-eaten salad pushed aside, Winter’s plate already spotless, as if she wanted to say she was done — with lunch, and with this conversation.
Without another word, Winter stood up, tray in hand. The others followed. Only Ye-seo hesitated, glancing back at Ji-hyun as she picked up her leftovers, eyes full of worry.
Ji-hyun watched their retreating backs, feeling suffocated. No matter how far she reached, it felt like she’d never touch them again.
And maybe, that feeling wasn’t just about the group — maybe it was about herself too.
So I’m the only one who didn’t say anything, huh.
She’d even apologized, yet they ignored her completely.
Frustration and a deep, unfair ache twisted inside her chest. Stabbing at her salad with a fork didn’t help one bit.
Is this… what the real Ji-hyun used to feel all the time?
“Is this why you made me come here?”
She muttered under her breath, glaring at the glowing quest window. Her voice shook, soft but angry.
And as if in answer, someone called her name.
“Ji-hyun? Why’d you come all the way to the company? I was just about to head over to the annex.”
It was Sung-han.
Ji-hyun almost jumped up in relief — she’d never been so happy to see his face. For a moment, she almost slipped and called him oppa, just like Winter would’ve. She caught herself just in time.
“I was just… taking a walk. What about you, manager?”
“Ah, well, uh…”
Sung-han scratched the back of his head, hesitating for a moment before continuing.
“Remember that survival audition program they said YTB was producing?”
“…What?”
“It’s okay. The doctor said it’s normal if some memories before the accident are foggy. Don’t force yourself to remember.”
His tone made it sound like there was something she really shouldn’t try to remember.
“Anyway, they’re planning a big audition show. The PD in charge suggested you take part — as one of the judges. They thought it’d be a great way for you to make your comeback.”
“…A judge?”
“Yeah. At first, they wanted to include some of our company’s trainees for exposure, but…”
He sighed, folding his arms as if deciding how much to say.
“…to be honest, we don’t have many trainees with star power right now. So they thought — if Ahn Ji-hyun appeared as a judge, it would create huge buzz. Maybe even more than any contestant could.”
That made sense. A top idol returning as a mentor? Instant headline material.
Sung-han continued, frowning slightly.
“But I told them no, several times. The shooting schedule’s tight, your body’s still recovering, and it’ll be stressful — mentoring a bunch of new trainees, filming long hours…”
“I see…”
“But they kept insisting I at least tell you about the offer. It’s hard to refuse when the PD himself calls in a favor.”
He gave a small, helpless smile, raising a thumb in mock defeat. Clearly, this PD had influence.
Ji-hyun understood perfectly.
Even without knowing much about the entertainment world, she could tell — having the “nation’s idol” return on a show like that would be a massive deal.
Still… it didn’t feel right.
She wasn’t fully healed. The quest system said her progress was only 67%.
And she hadn’t even fixed things with MOA yet — or figured out what happened to her real body, Jang Se-hee’s body.
Jumping into a TV show now? No way.
“Do you know when they plan to film it?” she asked.
“They’re thinking of debuting the winners in the first half of next year, so probably shooting starts in a month or two.”
“So maybe… around November?”
“Yeah, something like that. They’ll film for three or four months, then wrap around February, and debut the group by May.”
Ji-hyun frowned slightly.
That’s actually clever timing.
MOA had just made their comeback recently — it was late August now. If the new group debuted next spring, it wouldn’t overlap.
And if JW Entertainment used Ji-hyun’s image as a bridge between the show and MOA’s popularity, it could keep the spotlight on the company the entire time.
Interviews, guest appearances, behind-the-scenes specials — they’d squeeze every bit of publicity out of her.
But it all depended on one thing — her agreeing to do it.
She could already feel the pressure behind Sung-han’s polite tone.
The plan was transparent — too transparent.
Fine, she decided. I’ll just pretend to think about it, then decline later.
“I’ll think about it,” she said finally.
Sung-han blinked, surprised.
“You’re… actually considering it?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’ll take some time.”
“Right. That’s fine. Better to be careful about these things.”
His words said one thing, but his expression said another. His eyes clearly showed he hoped she’d refuse.
They talked a little longer about schedules and logistics.
“Okay then,” he said at last. “I’ll tell them you’ll think it over. You can decide later.”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Anything else to do here? Want to say hi to the CEO before you go?”
“I think I’ll skip today. I’m a bit tired.”
Understandably so — getting chased by fans and then ambushed by her group wasn’t exactly restful.
“All right. I’ll call you later. Need a ride?”
“It’s okay. I’d like to walk a bit.”
Ji-hyun made sure to grab her hat, sunglasses, and a mask this time. Lesson learned.
Outside, the summer air was surprisingly cool, clouds shading the sun.
Unlike when she came, no one recognized her — maybe the disguise worked, or maybe it was just a lucky day.
Finally, some peace.
For the first time since waking up in this body, she felt calm.
Her thoughts started to settle again — enough to question a few things.
The CEO… does Ji-hyun usually meet him personally?
Sung-han’s question — “You’re not seeing him today?” — had sounded almost odd.
Like Ji-hyun always saw the CEO when she came here.
Good thing she hadn’t agreed to meet him this time. She’d have to look into that later.
Anyway… I’m starving.
She hadn’t eaten properly at lunch, too busy enduring Winter’s glare.
Spotting a convenience store, she went inside and automatically picked up a kimbap roll.
Beep!
“That’ll be 3,400 won.”
“Ah.”
She froze.
Wait… this isn’t my money.
Technically, it was — she was in Ji-hyun’s body, after all.
But spending Ji-hyun’s money still felt wrong somehow.
Forget it. I’ll just eat at the annex. There’s food in the fridge there.
She turned to put the kimbap back—
Ding!
A sharp chime echoed in her mind.
