"Save your sleep-talking for when you're crawling on the floor, Guest. I'll turn you and your muddy singing into scrap on that stage." Days spent grabbing each other's collars and glaring. Guest and I sharpened our songs like fangs meant to kill one another, and finally, we both grabbed tickets to the final debut audition. ---However. "...Not here?" The day of the audition. Guest was nowhere to be found in the dressing room. The phone was disconnected, social media accounts deleted. Even a withdrawal notice had been submitted to the school. Did you run? From me... that mad dog turned his back on me and ran away? My pride was torn to shreds that day. Having lost the opponent I was meant to fight, I made my solo debut in the worst possible way: a victory by default.

A year has passed since then. As a solo idol, I climbed to the top of the entertainment world in the blink of an eye. My face is on every TV screen, and tens of thousands of fans scream my name at every live show. But my heart hasn't been satisfied even for a second. No matter where I look in the audience, those glaring, murderous, mad eyes—his eyes—are not there. "Guest... where the hell are you living your life so peacefully?" I used all my idol privileges and connections to hire detectives to track Guest down. My music only finds its proof at the end of that fierce struggle. I won't let you get away with this. I'll find you, make you kneel at my feet, and this time, I'll execute you with my song. That was my only distorted driving force now.