Team Leader Park's Ploy
Four hours earlier.
Park Jun-su, team leader of G&X Entertainment's Rookie Development Team 3, was deep in thought.
The live broadcast stage was already over, but Snet's stern copyright warning had scared off most netizens. Only Black Label's grotesque GIFs lingered on community boards as viral fodder for the show.
On the surface, everyone was whispering, "Is this the kind of stage an idol should put on?" But those in the know already understood the matchup results.
How could they not?
"Ah, really? Black Label actually won? For real? I can't believe it. Black Label beat Rockwon? Got it. I'll prep the promo materials right away."
The promo team leader had practically shouted it loud enough to shake the office.
Knock knock.
He set down the phone and rapped on the partition. No need to come over, but here he was, delivering the news in person.
"Team Leader Park. Did you hear?"
"If you're talking about Black Label, yeah. I heard. You were yelling so loud the whole office did."
"Isn't it insane?"
"That big a deal?"
Park Jun-su asked if Black Label was really that impressive.
The promo team leader didn't hold back.
"Huge deal. They knocked out the top contender, Rockwon. Man... too bad it wasn't live broadcast."
He whined about how he'd hold his tongue for the next week, but Park knew Rockwon was only big inside the Supreme Beat Contest. Who else cared?
Whatever. Their target demo was solid.
"Impressive, huh? My mom even nagged me to get a Rockwon autograph if I ever crossed paths."
"To aunties, they're top-tier idols right now. You should check out their stage, Team Leader."
Park Jun-su waved it off.
He had no interest. Seeing those worthless kids strut after beating some trendy dance group would make him sick.
"I'm good."
"Come on, don't be like that. Listen to the song at least. The vibe's killer."
"Yeah, I'll check it later."
Park forced a smile. Nemesis's comeback—the group he'd nurtured—was looming. No point burning bridges with promo.
The team leader smacked his lips and left after saying his piece. Their paths diverged again.
Park Jun-su snatched his phone and bolted up, glancing at promo before heading for the emergency stairs.
His index finger punched the keys confidently, but his feet dragged. He paced, praying the endless ringing would end.
Riiiing~.
"What kind of manager has such a boring ringback? No consideration for the guy waiting."
His gripes trailed off as the call connected.
"Pick up already! Your bro's stuck listening to this lame default tone?"
[You think I wanted to? Dude, I've been filming till now.]
"Manager my ass—what shoot? What're you up to?"
[Listen, I said I'm shooting. Oh, right. I had something to ask you too.]
Park took the bait.
"What?"
[Falcon. Composer Seo Hyun-woo.]
Lucky break? Or fate? His nagging dilemma eased as their wavelengths synced.
"Yeah."
[Your exclusive?]
"Exclusive?"
Park echoed, calculating. The guy was a manager for an idol group in the Supreme Beat Contest. They'd crash out of the round of 8 easy, but he had a good ear for music.
For him to bring up Seo Hyun-woo out of nowhere...
"...Probably?"
He played it vague.
"Why?"
Park probed. Time to gauge what a music-savvy guy thought.
[Guy's nuts. Why else? If he's not exclusive, we'd snag him for sure.]
That good? Regret tinged the words. This was real—no bluff. The guy wasn't the type to overthink.
"No dice. We've got a backlog of work with him."
[Fuck, knew it. Black Label's lucky bastards. Wait, or are they?]
Drunk? Choppy sentences, insider lingo only he got.
"What?"
[Come on. With a composer this skilled, why not push Black Label sooner?]
Not pushed—they just couldn't rise.
[Ah, got it. Better to drop singles than force it. Pooling hype like this works better all around. G&X knows their shit.]
"Shut up, idiot. Cut the crap or I'm hanging up."
[Look, big corp bullying's alive. Lol. Just tryna catch up with a buddy, and you're itching to bail after your bit.]
"I'm busy."
[Everyone is. Anyway, Seo Hyun-woo. If he's exclusive, watch out.]
What now? Park paused mid-hangup.
"Huh?"
[Telling you 'cause we're friends. This place is rigged as hell.]
"Rigged?"
[You know how composers and players team up, right? The whole game's fixed.]
"Sure..."
He'd heard it was random. Composers and singers pair with who vibes in the time limit.
[Rumors say same-agency exclusive composer and singer are colluding, teaming up on set.]
"Yours?"
[Dude, if we colluded, we'd be past round of 8. We'd crush it.]
"Fair."
[Asshole. 'Fair'? Anyway, heads up. If he's exclusive, word'll spread soon.]
"Even if..."
[Huh?]
"Even if we know, what can we do?"
That's the premise. They team if they click. Same agency or not, so what? What could anyone do?
"Just say they teamed 'cause they clicked."
Scoff echoed back.
[Try that. Sure, not wrong per your logic. But image trashed. Vibe here's brutal. One slip and you're done.]
Easy for an already-eliminated whiner to say.
Park thanked him curtly and hung up. G&X wouldn't face that meat grinder anyway.
Seo Hyun-woo wasn't their exclusive.
He shuffled back in slippers, pulled up the stage vid smuggled from Team 2.
The song he'd dismissed as weird? Up close, the song was fine. Black Label's bizarre performance twisted it weird.
Even if that's why mouths wagged, the track slapped.
"And..."
He checked OppaZ matchup. Good song too. Black Label just lacked the chops to pull it off.
"Hm..."
Dilemma, but no dilemma. Producers tailoring tracks to players like Falcon? Rare.
"Can't hurt to try."
Park grabbed his jacket off the chair.
"Mind if I join?"
No answer, but the man pulled out a chair anyway.
"Whoa, digging into something tasty, huh."
Mood soured oddly. One wrong twitch and he'd snap—making him the crazy one. Ambiguous jerk.
The man beamed, pressing on.
"Hello, Composer. I'm Park Jun-su, team leader of G&X Entertainment Rookie Development Team 3."
Park raised a hand, pretending familiarity.
"So, Black Label's your team from Team 2, right? Makes us basically one big team. Uhahahaha."
Funny? Not to me.
Sensing no chummy vibes, PD Shim Yu-jeong shoveled the last pork cutlet and raised a hand quietly.
"Composer, I'll head out then. Have a good time?"
"Ah, leaving already? Why, PD? Did I interrupt? Sorry, really."
Sorry my ass—why chase her off? Park bowed 90 degrees to Shim's retreating back.
Once she was gone, Park's smile lit up. Intruder vanished.
"Now just us? Oh!"
He eyed my half-eaten plate, then the suitcase standing nearby.
"Heard you're off for a week. Heading downtown? I could help with luggage. Grabbed a bite, might as well coffee too."
"I'm good."
Talk could loop nowhere.
"Aw, come on. Like I said, we're a team..."
That's why not. Idols launch from agencies, but outsiders think same company means same team. Wrong.
Same team ain't same. Lines differ. Especially dev teams.
Winning idols shift team leaders' fates.
Black Label: Team 2. This weasel: Team 3.
Company by company, they say, but dev teams feud.
Makes sense. Rivals.
Naive me would've bitten; twice the life smarts now meant sharper survival.
"You get paid?"
Park blurted.
"Pardon?"
"For writing Black Label's track. Paid yet?"
I shook my head.
"No. Show rules—no such talk. Production bans song fees."
"Tsk."
"Ooh, unpaid? Start now."
"What?"
"Dunno why you skipped pay with your skills."
He slid his business card across.
"Get paid from here. Time's wasting."
"True. Time is."
I checked Nemesis's profile he'd slipped over.
"Can't guarantee success."