Conditions for Becoming a Kind Idol Leader - Chapter 16

After that, Zero One slipped into comeback preparations without any major incidents, and before long they were so busy that the easygoing schedule from their second anniversary day felt almost unreal.

In the end, the concept they settled on came down to three keywords: freshness, summer, and high-school youth.

Once the concept was set, the plans and schedules began to snowball in earnest.

They brought in a music video director and locked in the shoot dates, and the timing for the album release and comeback announcement was finalized as well.

They also spent time recording the songs and practicing the choreography the choreographer had prepared, and that part, honestly, was anything but smooth from the very beginning.

Before they even properly started recording, the day after their debut second anniversary, CEO Kwon Dae-do called the members in, handed each of them a blank sheet of paper out of nowhere, and told Zero One to write their own lyrics.

Go Young-in truly thought the CEO had gone insane.

He hadn’t expected to be asked to write lyrics too. That had never happened before, either.

Maybe the fact that he’d said he wanted to make Zero One’s music had landed better with the CEO than expected.

It wasn’t that he was flatly opposed to the idea. If ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠anything, the younger version of Go Young-in had once vaguely thought it would be nice if the day ever came when he could try something like that.

But even if he didn’t know everything about Zero One, there was one thing he could say for certain.

The current Zero One could not, no matter how hard they tried, make something that genuinely contained their story, let alone his own. They could dress it up and pretend, sure, but if the members could barely understand one another in the first place, how was anything sincere supposed to get into the music?

And that included Go Young-in himself.

On top of that, there was lyrics, recording, mixing, mastering… just the lyrics alone felt like they’d eat up all their time.

Since this whole mess had started because of him, he was trying to figure out how to refuse when, thankfully, Pyo Jae-ho stepped in and pushed back.

The gist of it was simple: they were short on time, and it wasn’t exactly reassuring to hand a song to members who had never written lyrics before.

Damn it. He wasn’t wrong, so Go Young-in had nothing to say.

Besides, the other members had no intention of writing lyrics in the first place. Naturally, Kwon Dae-do’s persuasion didn’t work. In the middle of all that, Go Young-in also ended up learning that Pyo Jae-ho had somehow been roped into participating in the song.

When Pyo Jae-ho flat-out declared that if things were going to go this way, he wouldn’t write his own songs either, Go Young-in seized the opportunity and defended him with everything he had. In the end, Kwon Dae-do threw up both hands and surrendered.

Pyo Jae-ho’s expression had turned bizarre, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to take his side, but whatever. In the end, at least the song itself was left alone and allowed to proceed as planned.

And so Zero One’s challenge toward more self-directed music began as only a half-measure. No, maybe a quarter-measure?

Later, Kwon Dae-do called Go Young-in aside and apologized, promising that for the next album they’d prepare more slowly and try everything, all the way down to writing the songs themselves.

But Go Young-in already thought this much was a huge win, so he wasn’t especially disappointed.

Honestly, he’d been more worried that Kwon Dae-do might lose his mind again and tell them to scrap everything and go home.

Go Young-in viewed the situation rather positively. The fact that the concept and the song were both completely different from before was already a huge change.

And so they went on, still far from smooth: recording the song, practicing the choreography, practicing the song, practicing the choreography again, then more practice, and more practice, and more practice after that.

Thanks to that endless grind, May rushed by in a blur.

As always, after finishing their group choreography practice in the rehearsal room, they were given a short break.

The Zero One members were, by and large, a difficult bunch, but the one saving grace was that at least when it came to singing, dancing, and stage schedules, none of them cut corners.

Lim Se-bin had gone to collapse in a corner of the practice room, and Pyo Jae-ho had dragged his exhausted body to the studio upstairs, saying he was going to finish the rest of the song work there.

What a damn hard-ass. Cheon Sa-yoon, apparently not tired at all, was already chatting and laughing with one of the staff members.

Go Young-in took in the rehearsal room with one long sweep of his gaze, then dragged in a breath and rubbed absently at his forehead with his arm. Damn… trying to get a group formation right after so long is really killing me.

He’d been checking the choreography every time they finished a run-through, but it still wasn’t enough.

Since the song itself had a lively feel, the dance was fast and bright overall, and with so many split formations and steps, he had to inspect everything even more carefully.

Go Young-in sat down haphazardly on the rehearsal-room floor and picked up the camera he’d kept running throughout practice. He was planning to check the formations and movement paths first, then go over ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the finer details after that.

Kyeon In-woo, who had already emptied a bottle of water and was bullying the empty container by crushing it in his hands, caught on and joined him without being asked.

Right. At least you do know you’re one of Zero One’s main dancers.

“Go Young, you messed up the step here.”

“You mean the part at eight seconds?”

“Yeah. Before the pair formation with me.”

“I should’ve pulled my left foot out faster. Ah, and Se-bin hyung’s drop timing is a little late there too.”

Out of everyone in Zero One, Kyeon In-woo was the one who could hold a normal conversation the longest. His mouth was rough, sure, but aside from that, he was surprisingly decent. Of course, that only held true under one condition.

“Fuck.”

The reason Kyeon In-woo blurted out curses so suddenly was usually the same. Sure enough, it was probably Cheon Sa-yoon again.

“Hyung.”

A voice tinged with amusement drifted over. Just as expected.

Seriously, how long was this going to go on? Every time they saw each other, they started with swearing, so what kind of friendship was this supposed to be? It was a miracle they still hadn’t actually thrown punches. Though, to be fair, they weren’t doing that while practicing, so maybe that counted as progress.

Which meant that if he just stood there like this, the two of them were going to start another hellish exchange of mouths.

God, they were exhausting.

Go Young-in handed the camera over to Kyeon In-woo and stood. Even without a subject, Cheon Sa-yoon never addressed Kyeon In-woo with anything so familiar, so the “hyung” had clearly been aimed at him.

He moved away from Kyeon In-woo and took Cheon Sa-yoon with him to a quieter corner. Cheon Sa-yoon followed without complaint, which was itself a little surprising.

“Is something wrong?”

“Pie-yo.”

Pie…? What the hell is he talking about—ah, wait.

Now that he thought about it, something like that had happened during the second-anniversary livestream. Time really had passed since then. Go Young-in nodded slowly.

But Cheon Sa-yoon, whose instincts were sometimes so sharp it felt like he could read minds, immediately noticed that Go Young-in had forgotten.

“Don’t tell me you already forgot. Don’t say you’re that stupid.”

“...No. But why?”

Damn it. I didn’t think I’d forgotten it too. I wrote it down in my memo app, but I’ve been too busy lately to check.

Along with that, he also remembered the new goal he’d written down at the same time. During the comeback period, don’t get hurt, don’t let any noise break out… he’d written a lot, but in the end it all came down to one thing.

Make it through the comeback safely.

Since the album concept and even the song had changed completely, he should also check whether their results would change too. He wasn’t the type to obsess over rankings, but if the numbers were good, that would be better for the fans too.

“Be careful. He looked a little worked up.”

Cheon Sa-yoon’s voice dragged Go Young-in out of his thoughts.

Careful, out of nowhere? What kind of line was that, miles away from the word “safe”? Cheon Sa-yoon really needed to learn to get to the point first ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠when he spoke.

Does he think everyone in the world is like him?

“Was this related to the thing about coming in late that time?”

Suddenly, he remembered that not long ago, Cheon Sa-yoon had come home late without answering his calls.

“It is related, but it’s a little different.”

“Ah. I see.”

“You curious?”

Should he be curious…?

“I’ll listen first.”

“No, Young-in hyung. I asked whether you’re curious.”

He was picking a fight over anything now. What a damn weirdo.

For someone so petty he’d nitpick a single word, his face looked way too refreshed, which was almost impressive. Was this his way of making the answer obvious?

“...Yeah. I’m curious.”

Cheon Sa-yoon’s lips curved into a bright smile.

“I was nice to him a little.”

“Hm. You mean that staff member?”

...Not bullying him?

I’m not jumping to conclusions. Just look at the way he’s saying it. How am I not supposed to think that?

“Yes. I was just nice to him. What are you thinking about, that you’re making that face? Did you think I was going to treat him like I treat you?”

What the hell kind of treatment was that supposed to be, because it sounded deeply unpleasant.

Cheon Sa-yoon smiled at Go Young-in in that oddly amused way of his, then began folding down his fingers one by one as he spoke.

“I remembered his name, started talking to him first, looked for him often, praised ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him a little too much. If possible, I made sure to seem more familiar than anyone else in front of several staff members.”

So this was some kind of company-politics takedown? The more he heard, the more it sounded like that had to be what was going on.

“He got pushed out faster than I expected. You have no idea how nasty the politics here are. I’m sure you wouldn’t know, since you don’t pay attention to any of that.”

He was losing his mind. Wasn’t it stranger that the guy actually paying attention to all of this was him? Was there any chance Cheon Sa-yoon could stop saying terrifying things with that smiling face of his?

“So be careful. I don’t want to get isolated and leave on my own, so I’m thinking I should start crossing the line soon. I looked into him, and he’s the type who’s always been up to something.”

Cheon Sa-yoon offered the warning softly, and Go Young-in had the sudden urge to ask someone why he was the one who had to be careful when the one starting trouble was Cheon Sa-yoon.

* * *

Early June.

Once the outline of the comeback had become clearer and they’d grown reasonably familiar with both the choreography and the song, they headed to the beach for the jacket shoot for Zero One’s summer special album, Summer Blue.

The sun was blazing high overhead from a sky that stretched far across the horizon, and a lukewarm breeze carried the salt of the sea.

Up to that point, seeing the ocean again after so long had felt pleasantly familiar. Yes, that was how it had been. But then…

Damn it.

Lately things had been calm enough that he’d thought the jacket shoot might go relatively smoothly too. He’d been keeping his nerves on edge because of Cheon Sa-yoon’s warning, and still nothing major had happened. But he hadn’t expected that before any real incident even broke out, they’d already run into this kind of trouble.

Go Young-in looked down at the ground beneath his feet.

Fine sand tickled the soles of his feet, and the uneven waves sliding in toward his toes shimmered before his eyes. Over the translucent water, washed in pale green hues, familiar memories began to creep over him like fog.

Muted ears, breath coming short as though something were crushing his chest, the stinging smell of seawater.

A future and a past that had survived only as a few lines in a news report. Memories of death that might have become Go Young-in’s final memory instead came flooding back without warning.

Looks like the biggest obstacle in this shoot is going to be me…

Go Young-in swallowed down the ragged breath rising in his throat.