First Variety Show

"Reaction's looking good."

Kim Se-jun murmured the words with open satisfaction, phone already in his hand in the early hours of the morning.

His first music video had gone up on MeTube. Barely a day had passed, and already the view count and the likes were painting a promising picture. The comments were a wall of praise.

Most of them were in Korean, though here and there a foreign language broke the pattern. He couldn't parse the short English perfectly, but even a rough reading made the warmth of those reactions plain enough.

"Nice."

The word slipped out before he could stop it.

The bulk of the comments lauded the music video or the song itself, but every so often a question surfaced about the unfamiliar woman on screen — Lee Ye-eun, a face the public had not yet learned.

"It'll come out soon enough."

The fact that the woman in the music video was Lee Ye-eun, the featured vocalist on his own track, would not stay hidden for long. And once it didn't, interest in the album cut Spring Rain would rise on its own.

A smile sat full on Kim Se-jun's face as he watched the plan unfold without a hitch. Then he opened the music app — Music ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠In.

The first thing that filled the screen was the song currently occupying first place.

"That's honestly impressive."

He shook his head, clicking his tongue in genuine awe. The track had been out for years, and still, the moment spring arrived, it climbed back to number one as if the season itself had summoned it. That kind of staying power was nothing to scoff at.

"Hmm..."

He closed one eye and dragged his thumb carefully up the glass, the way a man peeks at his cards. A small nod followed.

"Not bad at all."

A single flick of the screen, and there it was. His own song, waiting for him.

Eleventh. Kim Se-jun — Spring Breeze.

Eleventh place in a single day was a strong showing. It sat in roughly the same neighborhood as Simcheongga, the duet he had done with Kang Yu-na — except this time, he had gotten there on his own. And among the flood of tracks that had seized on spring as a concept, his was holding a place well up the list.

"Gotta take it all the way to number one...."

He kept sweeping his thumb up the screen. Then a short breath of surprise escaped him, and something brighter moved through his eyes.

"Huh? Didn't see this coming."

Every one of the four tracks on his debut album had entered the chart.

When an album dropped, the b-sides were usually buried under the title track — that was simply how it went. The unexpected showing pulled a little tune out of him, and Kim Se-jun hummed it under his breath.

Once the album was out, Kim Se-jun's schedule began to fill in earnest. All four tracks were posting respectable numbers and sitting on the chart, and there was not a single broadcasting PD who was not trying to get ahold of him.

There was the explosive run he had put together last year. There was the Asian Music Awards at year's end, the crown on top of it. And now the first release of the new year was already turning in a solid early performance. Booking calls for Kim Se-jun poured into Ares Music without a single day's pause, a tide that did not ebb, and from that flood he chose one program and agreed to appear.

"Hyung-nim. But why a variety show all of a sudden?"

"Hm?"

"You used to be pretty reluctant about variety appearances, didn't you?"

Lee Joo-sung asked it through the rearview mirror. Kim Se-jun let out a small breath and nodded.

The invitations had been endless. He had turned down every last one of them. He did not, by his own measure, possess a silver tongue, and he had no particular gift for making other people laugh. There had seemed little point in walking onto a variety set.

"I used to think that. I changed my mind a little."

He scratched his chin, the MeTube comments from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a few days ago rising unbidden. Plenty of them had been grateful. Plenty of them, too, had left him feeling he owed his fans an apology.

He had thought he was doing enough. From the fans' side of the glass, it had not been enough at all. The comment had collected a fair number of likes and replies, and on the back of it Kim Se-jun decided to take the variety offers he had been refusing.

I have been scarce on TV, that's true.

Outside of music shows, he had not appeared anywhere. He could hardly blame the fans for sitting around wishing they had more of him. For a fan, the mere fact that their artist had walked onto a program the whole country watched was its own kind of thrill — a feeling MeTube alone could never quite satisfy. Kim Se-jun had felt that feeling himself.

I used to light up whenever Lee Hae-jin came on. Whenever any of the others did, too.

Watching artists who almost never did broadcast work step onto a show and hold their own had filled him with a quiet pride. Now it was his turn to give that pride to someone else.

And I can promote the album while I'm at it.

A singer with a new record going on variety to push the songs was the most natural thing in the world. Kim Se-jun had not the slightest intention of letting the chance slip.

"Hello, sunbaenim. I'm Kim Se-jun."

"Ah! Great to meet you, Se-jun."

The moment he arrived at the studio, Kim Se-jun went to greet the regular cast. They were seniors of the industry by a wide margin; for a junior standing as far down the ladder as he was, going to them first was simply the order of things.

The first door he opened belonged to In Hyun-gyu, the main MC of the program he was appearing on.

In Hyun-gyu was closing in on fifty, with a muscular build that sat oddly against a face so gentle it bordered on innocent. A man whose busy career, silver tongue, and gift for neatly wrapping up any situation had made him one of the most respected MCs in the business.

When Kim Se-jun stepped in, In Hyun-gyu met him with that same mild smile.

"I've been listening to the songs. They're really good. Everyone around me is a fan of yours, you know."

Kim Se-jun bent at the waist.

"Thank you. I've been watching the show as well, sunbaenim."

"Sunbaenim? Come on. Just call me hyung. I'll drop the formalities too. You know the concept of our show, right? Once the cameras are rolling we all end up talking casual anyway. Might as well get comfortable now."

"Yes. I'm a regular viewer, so I know."

The stiffness still sitting on Kim Se-jun made In Hyun-gyu huff a quiet laugh.

"First time on variety?"

"Ah — yes."

"It's fine, it's fine. Don't be nervous. The kids and I will look after you. Just read the room a little and you'll be all right."

In Hyun-gyu said it as if he had already decided Kim Se-jun was wound tight, and meant to loosen the knot for him.

The short greeting ended, and Kim Se-jun made the rounds of the other waiting rooms, offering each of them a bow in turn. When he finally returned to his own, he dropped into the chair and let out a long breath.

"Now that I'm actually about to go on variety, I really am getting nervous."

Sweat beaded along his palms. This was not a place where he could prove himself with a song — the work that was his life. Here, his worth would have to come out of his mouth and his body. He understood, in a single flash, why people talked about camera fright.

"Still. Let's do this right."

He nodded, as if the promise were something he could pin in place.

The variety show he had chosen was a phenomenon not only in Korea but across Asia. Its regular cast commanded a popularity in Southeast Asia, Hong Kong, and China that outstripped most working celebrities. That he had picked this program out of a mountain of invitations because of that Asian reach was not something he could deny.

And moving my body is a lot more comfortable than moving my mouth.

Compared to the talk-heavy variety shows, this one ran on physical games — and that had counted for something too. Before the regression, Kim Se-jun had often been written off as dead air. A man with no entertainment value to speak of.

"Please welcome today's guest!"

Waiting behind the set, Kim Se-jun put on a sheepish smile at In Hyun-gyu's call and walked out onto the floor.

The opening had been running for thirty minutes. The cast had been tossing small talk back and forth, warming the air, and once the PD decided they had enough of it, a writer lifted a sketchbook and cued Kim Se-jun's entrance.

At In Hyun-gyu's shout he came forward, bowing again and again as he approached the cast. Applause rose to meet him. It was a genuine welcome — and still, inwardly, Kim Se-jun clicked his tongue.

Wow... this isn't going to be easy either.

The pressure was a different animal from the stage. The instant he appeared, dozens of eyes and every camera in the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠place swung onto him. Unlike a concert, those gazes sat right in front of his face. His skin prickled with it.

"Hello. I'm Kim Se-jun. I'm a singer."

He greeted the cameras, and In Hyun-gyu took over the introduction.

"Welcome, Se-jun. Today's guest joining us — one of the most famous singers in Korea right now, wouldn't you say? Please welcome Kim Se-jun!"

As the greeting landed, a writer hoisted a sketchbook.

In Hyun-gyu scanned the oversized lettering in a flash and kept talking.

"And Se-jun, that album you put out — the songs are really good."

"Thank you."

A mischievous look crossed In Hyun-gyu's face, and he laid it on.

"I heard a rumor. They say your live performances are on another level?"

The rest of the cast nodded hard, their agreement entirely unfeigned.

"I heard that too! They said if you're going to listen to Se-jun, it has to be live!"

"My friend — my friend went to that concert of his and said it was insane. People were passing out and everything."

The heat in their voices was no act. The atmosphere spiked in an instant, and In Hyun-gyu gathered it back up and turned to Kim Se-jun.

"Everyone wants it this badly. You'll sing one for us, right?"

The other guests whooped and pushed him on, and Kim Se-jun, putting on a show of being unable to refuse, stepped into the center of the floor. The backing track the crew had prepared spilled out of the speakers. Kim Se-jun closed his eyes.

At the sound of his voice, the cast and the crew let out the same low breath at once.

I heard it on the streaming sites, but this new one is genuinely good too.

In Hyun-gyu nodded, sinking into it. The song alone made his chest itch with a restless warmth, and a smile crept out of him before he could catch it.

It really does feel like spring.

They were shooting outdoors today. The generous sunlight and the soft wind had already set a flutter going in him — and Kim Se-jun's song took that flutter and brought it fully to life. Somewhere, it seemed, there was even the scent of flowers on the air.

Before long, a smile full of that same spring restlessness sat on every face listening. A few of the staff broke into bashful grins. A few others closed their eyes and smiled into the dark behind their ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lids. It was a song that kept pulling a smile out of you whether you meant it to or not — Kim Se-jun's track, lifting the sweet agitation of spring as high as it would go — and Choi Hee-won, the main PD of the day's broadcast, nodded with a look of deep satisfaction.

A singer's album-promo stage was not, as a rule, a scene viewers cared much about. This one, she was suddenly certain, would be different. This one would draw real attention.

"Ow... that was brutal."

The shoot over, Kim Se-jun came home and pounded a fist against the small of his back. More than ten hours of filming. A variety concept that had him running from start to finish — of course his body was wrecked.

"Still, I think I did pretty okay?"

Maybe throwing himself into it without holding anything back had been worth it. Looking back, he had pulled a few decent moments out of the day. The PD might still cut them without mercy, of course.

"At least I shouldn't get cut down to nothing."

He had promoted the songs. He had given the fans what they had asked for. A satisfied smile was just settling on Kim Se-jun's face when his phone buzzed.

A message from Ha Dong-jun, vice president of Ares Music.