Chapter 5.1

Why does everything in my life feel so fake?

I looked at the woman standing in my living room, framed by the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Han River. She wore a mask, but I was certain I didn’t know her. Definitely not someone I’d recognize.

Given the circumstances, the most likely explanation was that she was a sasaeng. ^[1] Even Cheon Tae Rim, a fellow member of my former group, didn’t know the passcode to my front door. Yet here she was, casually standing in my house. That narrowed it down. I didn’t have siblings, so no one could realistically call me “oppa.” ^[2]

My brain froze in shock, unable to fully grasp the situation, while my body instinctively trembled. It felt like I’d been blindsided. If I were a little more cowardly, I might’ve screamed.

I don’t know if I had seen her at a fan signing. Honestly, I couldn’t remember. I dealt with so many people that if someone didn’t have striking features, I couldn’t recall them. The only things I recognized with precision were the camera placements of my top-tier home masters.

“Congratulations on your failed solo debut.”

“…Who are you?”

“I’m a first generation Echo. I’ve loved you since your debut. Don’t you remember? I went to every pre-recording and at least two fan signs every comeback, even if I wasn’t there for all of them.”

“…..”

“Well, I didn’t expect you to remember. You didn’t even care about Reverb, so why would you care about a fan?”

“Get out of my house. Right now. I’m calling the police.”

“Go ahead, call them.”

“What?”

“I’m just going to die with you anyway. I told you I’d kill you if you left. I’ve said it over and over, but you ignored me.”

“…..”

“Wow, look at you trembling. The whole ‘afraid of knives’ thing wasn’t just a concept, huh?”

For a fleeting moment, countless thoughts raced through my mind. Am I really about to die like this?

Threats about killing me were everywhere. Things had calmed down over the years, but early on, I’d been caught up in all sorts of incidents. I didn’t respond to threats online because that only fueled them. It wasn’t just me; almost every idol faced this. The company’s policy was to stay silent and not engage.

But even without engagement, someone still showed up like this? The absurdity left me speechless. The sight of the knife in her hand drained the strength from my body.

“…Put the knife down. Why—why are you doing this? Huh? Let’s just talk. We can talk this out.”

“Why am I doing this?”

“Yeah. We can have a conversation, right? Just talk.”

“It’s all because of you!”

“…..”

“I loved you so much! How could you betray my love? Damn it, leaving the group? Do you know how many fights I got into with those idiots sending trucks demanding you leave? And now you actually leave? I can’t accept it. If you’re gone, I’d rather you die!”

The words I’d rather you die snapped me back to my senses. The kitchen knife in her hand glinted sharply under the light.

Deep-seated memories I thought I’d buried came rushing back at her words, awakening old trauma.

My hands trembled, and my knees wobbled. The knife, her raised voice, the curse for me to die—it all felt disturbingly familiar.

But knowing didn’t make it easier. If anything, the knowledge of what could come next only heightened the terror.

This is insane. Am I really going to be stabbed to death by a sasaeng just because I ignored some fans?

The most rational thought I could muster at that moment was I’m screwed.

R&M was infamous for attracting sasaengs. Crazy people who broke into restrooms and raided trash bins were nothing new.

Plenty had broken into our dorms after leaking our address. Every idol on the rise has likely come home to find girls waiting inside at least once.

During Reverb’s prime, some fans even tailed our van in taxis to monitor our every move. Random encounters where they’d photograph us and post shots of our bare faces online were routine. They said they had met us by chance, and filed us. Agencies that leaked our flight seats for a few bucks sprang up like mushrooms.

You’re rich, so you should endure this. I do this because I love you. I don’t have a life because I’m chasing yours.

I never fully understood their mindset, but when they were caught and turned over to the police, their excuses all sounded the same: I did it because I love you. I wanted to know everything about you. I just wanted to show how much I care…

“I’m sick of that so-called ‘love.’ What a joke. No matter how much you like idols, becoming a sasaeng is just plain insane.”

Yet the agency could never handle it properly. They couldn’t even sue reckless cyber vultures, let alone throw a single fan in jail. When the police got involved and found out the victim was a celebrity, their attitude became dismissive.

If it’s just some young girls following their oppa, can’t you endure it?

And if the agency hired personal security in response, they’d be accused of losing their humility. People would cry about idol rights being prioritized over the protection of “dedicated fans.” What’s with the ridiculous logic?

Translator’s Notes:

 

 

 

 

 

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Note/s:

^[1] ↩

A ‘Sasaeng’ is the South Korean term for an obsessive fan (fanatic and crazy, imho) who invades the privacy of Korean idols, drama actors, or other public figures in the entertainment industry. They’re known for stalking, and even in worse cases, breaking and entering.

^[2] ↩

Oppa is an honorific in Korean culture used by women to (casually) refer to an older male. It is often used among siblings, friends and is used for boyfriends as well. For siblings, there’s a more formal term used by women, and that’s ‘orabeoni.’