Entertainer

A company visit.

Is this what you call a company visit, you son of a bitch?

It was something Sora had always longed for. Given the chance, she would have jumped at it without hesitation.

"Everyone, you've worked so hard."

"Yes~!"

"Whether you made the debut lineup or not, I hope this broadcast becomes a major turning point in your lives."

For a while, at least, she wouldn't need any of this. She had suffered through it so thoroughly that just thinking about it made her shudder.

Where am I? Who am I?

The contestants of Dream Girls had gathered in the auditorium for the wrap party. Everyone outside the debut group was eliminated. They would never appear on the show again.

"I believe every trainee here has the potential to debut if you keep refining your craft in your own fields. Another opportunity will come for sure, so please don't dwell only on the regret."

Trainer Yoon Ji-seong, who had drilled them with Spartan intensity, poured out her remaining passion to the very end. That kind of severity only came from genuine affection. A few of the trainees were already in tears.

"Hic…"

"Even when it's hard, I'll think of you and push through, Teacher."

"We love you, Teacher Yoon!"

Should I pretend to cry too…?

The thought actually crossed her mind. In truth, she was mostly just relieved that this miserable grind was finally over.

"Trainee Yoon Sora!"

"Yes! Y-yes?"

"Just because the program is finished doesn't mean you can let your guard down. No matter which agency you sign with, I expect you to keep working hard. I'll be watching."

"…"

Teacher Yoon clearly did not share her sense of relief. The tension that had just started to loosen snapped tight again.

"Of course it's her."

"I wanted to talk to Teacher Yoon too."

"Just because her chest is stupidly huge…"

The other trainees were no better. Even setting Jang Min-seo aside, there were plenty who already resented her. She was the outsider rock that had rolled in. Unlike them, she had no agency behind her—just an ordinary civilian.

So the entertainment industry really ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is all surface and no substance.

She had heard the rumors. What you saw on broadcast was never the whole story. Looking close was just acting. Behind the scenes they hated each other enough to kill. She had dismissed it as fan-driven drama and internet gossip.

"If I'd gotten surgery like you, my vote ranking would've been way higher."

"They're natural."

"There's no way a chest gets that big naturally. What are you, a dairy cow?"

"Yeah, exactly!"

She had never imagined she would become the target herself. On camera they had never shown a single crack.

These fucking bitches…!

She wanted nothing more than to slap them across the face. She had replayed the fantasy more than once. But emotional outbursts were a luxury she could not afford. They would only use it against her.

It's not like I'll ever see them again.

That was the important part. For reasons she still did not fully understand, the final vote results had gone poorly. She had finished in thirteenth place. The trainers had even given her a quiet heads-up that if she made the debut group she would need to work even harder. A quick glance at community reactions had left her uneasy.

She swallowed hard.

At this rate she might actually debut. The strange mix of dread and not-quite-dread had left her floating for days. Landing outside the cutoff was almost a relief. She could keep the whole experience as a clean, good memory without any further complications.

Wiiiiing~!

It had not been all bad. She had not wanted to check, but her phone would not stop buzzing.

YouTube comments. Even though the videos had been up for ages, hundreds of new ones had suddenly flooded in.

They always manage to dig it up somehow.

She had braced herself for this. Keep appearing on broadcast long enough and people would find out. Fortunately the direction was good. No hate comments, no mockery—she could finally breathe a little easier.

There are Japanese fans too.

Looking closer, some of the comments were written in Japanese. People had been watching the broadcast over there as well. A complicated feeling settled over her. As someone who had zero interest in becoming an idol, she was not sure she was even allowed to feel pure joy about it.

There was still something to celebrate. Her YouTube subscriber count had exploded beyond belief.

Whoa…

Ten thousand had already felt like a lot. Then the digit count changed, and the leading number changed again. The view counts were almost impossible to trust. For the first time, the fact that she had been on television felt real. She had only ever thought of it as a massive headache. Appearing on the show had not been entirely a bad thing.

Screech—!

Of course she never wanted to do it again. Sora drove her own car back to her studio apartment. A place she had not seen in ages. Even though she had stared at the same scenery every single day, she had never been so happy to see it.

Right. A student is supposed to study.

She had gone completely insane and lived for dance. Why she had even bothered improving her vocals was a mystery. That whole unreality was over now. She could throw herself back into academics and stocks the way she always had.

—Welcome to the Canyon of the Gambler!

She powered on the computer tower and logged into her HTS. The market was closed. Her heart still pounded.

Ah. Just looking at the screen makes me feel good.

This was where she belonged. She felt it in her bones, not her head.

The communities too. Living every day watching other people's faces and only saying polite, pretty words had been genuinely suffocating.

It's been way too long since I looked at the market. I'm going crazy wanting to gamble.

She wanted to open her mouth and just spew whatever was on her mind. A space that understood that version of her.

The stock communities were buzzing too. Once the YouTube channel got out, it was only natural.

You little shit. Just keep hyping me then.

She did not entirely hate it—people talking about her, people liking her. The Dream Girls fans mattered too, of course, but at the end of the day she was an investor, not an idol.

Being recognized as an investor felt even better. Sora smiled as she scrolled through the reactions.

You don't even need the initialisms.

She had missed this crude, unfiltered energy. At least it was better than two-faced politeness. Better than the girls who smiled for the camera and flipped the second it turned off.

Honesty was her preference. Somewhere along the way that had become true.

Why would I be sweating?

She used to be rigid. The old her had lived as tightly laced as an E-cup bra. The current her would never survive that kind of constriction. She had finally learned what actually felt good.

Yeah. Keep sucking up more.

A primal kind of pleasure. She had never liked being judged on looks alone. But when looks fused with actual skill, it was different. Being praised felt good.

Just reading the community posts was enough to make her body heat up.

Yeah, yeah, hype me more. Haaah…

Perfect bait. Threads about her were everywhere. Every ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠refresh spat out ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠something new. The fact that she had become famous was finally sinking in. She had thought YouTube and the communities would only get more fun from here.

Huh?

There were minor side effects too.