“You’re buying clothes?” the manager asked curiously.
“Yeah. All the clothes I have right now are just… weird. Nothing I can actually wear,” Rowoon said, nodding as he recalled the dressing room stuffed to the brim with clothes.
No way I’m stepping outside in any of those. I have at least some social dignity to maintain…
They were all expensive designer brands, but the problem was how over-the-top they were.
No sense of style—just a crazy mishmash, dripping with nouveau-riche vibes. It was clear he’d simply swept up anything that was “expensive.”
And, on top of that—
It’s weird how literally none of them fit well on him.
He couldn’t fathom what kind of mindset the original owner had for wearing such pricey yet hideous outfits. His sense of aesthetics must’ve been rock bottom.
To make matters worse, the original body apparently never realized how bizarre his fashion sense was; he even posted pictures like that on social media!
Then he got into a fight about it. …With a fan.
That was truly shocking. An actor, who lives off public love, got furious when someone criticized his terrible fashion. Sure, not all public opinions are correct, but in this case, the fans had a point.
The real problem? The previous owner had publicly lashed out with things like “Do you even know how much these clothes cost?”, “I don’t speak to beggars who don’t know anything about designer labels,” and “If you’re so jealous, you should buy them yourself.”
Those precious few fans still sticking around—fans who were actually right—were met with his outburst. He’d been getting flamed left and right already, yet he still managed to alienate the few people who cared about him.
…Should I just wipe the account?
Rowoon’s Instagram still attracted plenty of visitors, mostly for negative interest, but still.
Yeah, guess I’ll wipe it.
He calmly came up with a plan. In the long run, erasing unnecessary skeletons in the closet was probably best.
…But maybe I should keep the account itself. It has five million followers, after all…
He couldn’t bring himself to delete that massive following, so he attempted to justify it to himself.
In the meantime, his manager’s eyes went wide, and he clapped both hands over his mouth.
“Wow… amnesia is amazing…”
He’d been telling Rowoon forever to ditch those awful clothes, but Rowoon always refused and now Rowoon was calling them “weird” all on his own.
The manager felt a twinge of guilt—relief wasn’t the right response for someone who was ill.
“I’ll go pull the car around. Take your time coming out!”
Fearing Rowoon might change his mind, the manager hurried off, leaving the house first.
He was quietly hoping Rowoon would never recover his memories…
Their shopping trip was short—so short that the manager was practically dumbfounded.
“That’s it? This is really all you need? For real?”
“Yes, really.”
He’d asked the same thing several times by now, ever since Rowoon refused to tour the department store with a personal shopper or browse luxury boutiques.
I had a feeling this might happen if I came with him.
Unfortunately, Rowoon had no money. Selling his fancy belongings would take time, so he gingerly asked the manager if he could borrow some cash in advance.
“Advance pay? Why all of a sudden? What do you need an advance for…? Huh? Clothes? You want an advance to buy clothes? Then let’s just go together! Come on, let’s go!”
That’s how the manager ended up tagging along, whether Rowoon liked it or not.
Is it normal for agencies to just cover these expenses?
In Rowoon’s previous life, support had been cut off after the group’s scandal, so even stage outfits had sometimes been DIY.
Because of that, this situation felt very foreign to him, though he wasn’t complaining.
It felt… nice, actually, having a manager take the initiative just because he wanted new clothes. The manager even kept urging him to buy better ones.
“But, Rowoon, are you sure? These clothes have zero branding…”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Well, you used to flip out if something wasn’t a luxury label—like you’d break out in hives. You’d always say the fabric was different or something…”
Fabric is fabric, isn’t it?
“Anyway, to me, it feels like you’re a completely different person now.”
The manager was baffled. Rowoon’s taste was a complete 180 from before. It was understandable he’d be suspicious.
But the previous owner’s taste was garbage.
Rowoon managed to keep his cool. If worst came to worst, he could blame it on amnesia.
Still, maybe I should sell him a little sob story.
Putting on a serious face, Rowoon spoke. “Actually, I do have a reason for avoiding the stores you suggested.”
“A reason? Like what?”
“I need something to wear for the audition.”
“Then wouldn’t your old clothes be better? Sure, the patterns and colors are bizarre, but they at least look expensive. Or we can ask our company stylist.”
“No, dressing flashy won’t help. I need a drastic change of style, that’s the whole point.”
He’d gotten the idea from something the youngest member had once said.
According to the synopsis, going in flashy would be a terrible move.
So Rowoon decided to overhaul his image entirely.
“How is it, Hyung? Does it look okay?”
He’d darkened his bleached-blond hair—previously so bright it gave him a frivolous look—into a calm, dark shade.
He also straightened it so it hung smoothly, replacing the wild perm that had made him look chaotic.
All thanks to dragging the manager into a hair salon during their outing.
“It’s… not bad. Actually, it suits you well. You’ve got the face for anything, but… isn’t it a bit too plain? Didn’t you say this was for an audition?”
“Do I look plain?”
The manager almost said yes out of habit, but paused.
Sure, at a glance the outfit and hairstyle were completely ordinary. But his pale skin contrasted sharply with the dark hair, making his features pop even more.
His slender jawline and striking eyes, nose, and mouth all stood out, now unhidden by peacock-feather-like outfits.
Weird. He only lost his memory, but it’s like he’s a different person altogether.
Before, Rowoon had been like a peacock—too flashy for its own good.
Now, even with a simple look, he grabbed the eye more effectively than before.
But auditions are about standing out among the crowd, right?
With so many applicants, only a few get chosen. Judges have limited attention, and once they’ve seen dozens of people, they only remember the ones who really catch their eye—be it through stellar acting or a memorable visual.
So the manager wasn’t entirely wrong to worry.
“It’s fine. This is exactly what I need right now.”
Rowoon understood the manager’s concerns but already had a plan in mind.
“Don’t worry.”
He gave a smooth smile.
Guiro.
The movie’s title meant “the way back.”
It’s a story about those who wander while chasing their dreams.
In brief, the film’s plot goes like this:
A protagonist dreams of becoming a writer despite harsh circumstances, but runs into the brutal wall of reality. He refuses to let go of his dreams but faces a series of trials and eventually gives up writing. Then, one day, he remembers the passion he once had. Though he’s older now, he picks up his pen again and ultimately achieves his goal.
In a way, it’s a healing story.
A harsh world.
Worn-out young adults struggling to survive.
Through the protagonist’s journey, Guiro offers empathy and comfort.
…But is that really all there is?
Director Kim Seong-ha had effectively been kicked out of the industry.
If this is his comeback film, and it’s a feel-good story, why is he pressing on despite having no one waiting for his return?
He was known for making edgy, provocative films back in the day.
Funding and distribution are shaky at best; the production might collapse entirely. And yet he’s hosting an open audition, forging ahead anyway—why?
Beyond that, although it appears to be a healing narrative, the obstacles the protagonist faces seem far from ordinary.
There’s no full script yet, so Rowoon can’t be certain, but he suspects there’s more.
It’s probably not just a feel-good movie.
He can’t confirm yet.
When the completed script comes out, he’ll know for sure—assuming the film gets made.
We’ll see if it’s just my hunch, or if these faint clues are real.
But for that, he needs…
[Going to bed again, I see?]
Cheong-Hwa spoke up as Rowoon lay down on the bed.
[Are you doing that “headstone” training thing again tonight?]
“Yes.”
[Glad it’s working for you. That ‘Headstone’ fellow said you were following along nicely. He seemed quite pleased.]
Rowoon smiled, thinking of the being who’d been helping him for the past couple of days—Headstone.
“Time is short, so I have to do everything I can.”
[Makes sense. Indeed.]
They first met Headstone just two days ago.
He only had three days left until the audition, and the big problem was he had zero acting experience.
—Hyung, is there any chance I can get some quick lessons?
He started by looking for someone who could help. But:
—Who? Lee Rowoon? That weirdo? He wants to do what, act? Hah! That’s like some kind of phishing scam.
—Oh my, calling me after all this time? Didn’t you say I was washed up?
—Listen, that kid’s never going to act properly in his life. Don’t waste your money.
After hearing those responses, Rowoon thought: What’s with these people?
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