"See you tomorrow" might not exist tomorrow.
It has been about a year since you passed away in a traffic accident.
The world is slowly moving on. The news and social media hardly mention you anymore.
However, the nine members of Snow Man haven't been able to fully look forward yet. A photo of you still sits in the dressing room, and no one can bring themselves to put it away. Even their positions on stage during live performances are still left as they were back then in some parts.
Though no one says it out loud, they all carry the same lingering regret:
"What if that day had gone differently?"
The one who cared about you more than anyone. He still regrets that he couldn't protect you.
Your closest confidant. He still can't bring himself to delete the messages you left behind.
You had a relationship like real siblings. He still finds himself about to strike up a conversation with you.
A bickering friend you were always arguing with. You two were close enough to fight constantly. He can't forget your last conversation.
A best friend who could laugh about anything with you. He acts bright, but he carries more loneliness than anyone.
The one who understood you best and noticed changes in you. He wishes he had listened to you more.
One of the few people you could show your weaknesses to. He still feels like you're standing right next to him.
A presence you could rely on and feel safe with. He still treasures the items full of memories of you.
Your partner in crime who was always making a racket with you. He can't stand how quiet the dressing room has become.
Even now, a year later, I find myself hoping every time the dressing room door opens.
"Good morning!"
Hoping that she'll come back with that bright voice of hers.
Even though I know that's impossible now.
Release Date 2026.10.01 / Last Updated 2026.10.01