The Conditions for Becoming a Gentle Idol Leader - Chapter 64

In the end, Yoo In-hyeok was dropped, and the filming that had been put off all this time was finally set to resume.

Compared with the countless scandals that churned through the entertainment world, it was barely a scratch—hardly enough, in truth, to justify forcing someone off the show.

Still, the public reaction had been worse than anyone expected, and, more than that, the other side’s agency had pushed hard for his removal, insisting that since their artist had caused a controversy, he should step down as a form of self-reflection.

The mood had calmed down a lot, but a certain awkwardness still hung in the air. It was still early, and the set wasn’t fully ready for filming yet. At times like this, Go Young-in found himself running around even more diligently than usual.

Besides him, there were a couple of other people moving about in a similar way—and, annoyingly enough, both of them were familiar faces.

His eyes met Jeong Hae’s as the man spoke with the PD wearing a grave expression.

They were still some distance apart, and yet somehow Jeong Hae had noticed him. The bastard had eyes like a ghost. Whatever they were discussing must have been important, because Jeong Hae’s stiff expression only eased after a beat, as if he had just realized he was being watched.

Go Young-in had no intention of making a point of it, so he merely gave him a perfunctory nod and looked away.

One of them was Jeong Hae. The other was—

“I’ve got a history of causing trouble, and somehow I ended up leader, so fine, I can see why I’m like this. But that bastard Cheon Sa-yoon really does roam around nonstop.”

It was Cheon Sa-yoon, talking with the sound director. He was asking one question after another while pointing at the audio equipment, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and if you only looked at him, you’d think he was a friend of ten years’ standing.

Even if it was all an act, his social instincts were absurdly good. No—maybe that made it even more impressive.

Cheon Sa-yoon was clearly made for this kind of work. And here he was, reaping the consequences of a decision he’d made while already anticipating the blowback, trying to clean up the mess like his life depended on it. Damn it, he had to do this, didn’t he?

...Right. Just then, he could feel the gazes of people who had been pretending not to watch him from the start. Somehow, he felt like he’d been lumped together with Yoo In-hyeok as a potential bomb. Well, if you went around setting things off, you’d just have to live with the fallout.

Still, everyone took it in stride. It was exhausting, because every person he met wanted to know exactly what had happened, how Yoo In-hyeok had ended up like that, and kept pressing him for details.

It had blown up into a mess, sure, but incidents like this were commonplace in entertainment. They just weren’t usually known to the public. Most people would take it as nothing more than an interesting bit of gossip.

No one wanted to be tangled up with someone connected to a scandal, no matter which side they were on. But as a third party, watching from the sidelines, that was another matter entirely.

Some people pitied him, assuming he’d been bullied. Some mocked him for being stupid. Some treated him like a live grenade and kept their distance. And, of course, there were those who didn’t care at all.

For Go Young-in, it was almost a relief that the attention wasn’t more intense than this—but still…

“Idiot.”

Lim Se-bin seemed to disagree. He was clearly holding back his irritation.

He was the type who couldn’t stand noisy people, side glances, or any kind of attention at all, so Go Young-in had no idea why he was out here instead of staying in the waiting room and avoiding the annoyance until the very last second. Normally, he wouldn’t even leave the room before preparation was finished, just like Pyo Jae-ho.

He looks less irritated by the stares themselves and more disgusted by the whole situation.

Come to think of it, back when the live incident happened, Lim Se-bin hadn’t said anything directly either, but he had made his annoyance very clear with his eyes. He just wouldn’t explain what, exactly, had pissed him off. Great. Another problem.

“Go Young’s such a pushover.”

That asshole Kyeon In-woo, who’d known Go Young-in closely for a long time now, was happily chiming in while his teammate got cursed out. What was that look on his face? It was obnoxious.

I must’ve lost my mind for even a second and wondered if he was helping me.

At this rate, Go Young-in was the only one getting hit from both sides. Two against one was too much. This was a horrible trade. Absolute damage-loss exchange.

Ignoring all that, Lim Se-bin glared at him sharply and muttered in a voice that felt almost sinister.

“What, does he die if he doesn’t show off?”

“He’s a pushover. What can you do?”

“If he wants some pitiful attention or sympathy so badly, he can get it on his own.”

“Ah, no, that’s not it. Go Young doesn’t care how people around him see him.”

“Then he should stop hanging around and quietly get lost.”

“Yeah, Go Young. Go on, disappear already. How long are you gonna keep wandering around? I’m getting sick of it.”

“...Fuck off, Kyeon In-woo.”

Lim Se-bin, who had been ignoring Kyeon In-woo the entire time, finally shot him a look when he kept butting in at every turn. He looked ready to explode if he lost his temper. Kyeon In-woo only shrugged, utterly unconcerned.

“What? You called me, so say something.”

Shit, Kyeon In-woo. Are you my spokesperson now? Let me talk too. What is this, a group monologue?

He was just about to create some distance from Lim Se-bin before the status window told him to stop them, but Lim Se-bin moved first.

“Hey.”

“Yes…”

He answered immediately, guilty conscience and all. Lim Se-bin looked at him and let out a short, derisive laugh.

“Who are you trying to look pathetic for?”

When was I doing that?

Go Young-in was being wronged left and right, but Lim Se-bin seemed not to notice at all. He was still looking at him with that cold, sharp expression.

Then, in between glances, he checked Go Young-in, Kyeon In-woo, and the time in turn. It looked as though he was measuring something, and he lingered especially long on the clock. Go Young-in was just about to answer again when, for no reason he could name, he felt his own heart sink.

Lim Se-bin suddenly made a short, airless sound through his nose. He sounded disgusted by something. Then, as if nothing had happened, he turned back into his neat, expressionless self and pivoted on his heel.

Ever since the last time, Lim Se-bin had been increasingly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠demanding that he read his mind, and it was driving Go Young-in crazy. Damn difficult bastard.

He was mentally cursing Lim Se-bin with great enthusiasm when the man, who had been walking away, abruptly turned his head and stared at him.

“Go Young-in.”

Did Lim Se-bin actually have mind-reading powers?

“I told you to stop showing off.”

Having finished saying what he wanted on his own, Lim Se-bin turned away again. Judging by the direction he’d taken, he seemed to be heading back into the waiting room. Back in? There wasn’t even much time left before filming started—then why had he come out in the first place?

Still, since this mess really had been caused directly by him, Go Young-in couldn’t say anything.

Kyeon In-woo, not long after Lim Se-bin left, started complaining that he was bored out of his mind and disappeared too. So that was what he meant by “let’s get lost”—back to the waiting room.

He’d come along at first because he was bored, and it seemed he really had found the whole thing unbearable.

With Kyeon In-woo gone, it was actually easier to move around without someone getting in the way. There were hardly any people left anyway, so things wrapped up quickly. By then, except for the PD, he’d managed to show his face almost everywhere.

Just then, he heard a staff member shouting that filming would start soon. They’d probably already gone to the waiting room to make the announcement, but still, better safe than sorry.

He turned back toward the waiting room to drag out the disgusting members, only for a familiar voice to stop him.

“Go Young-in, you haven’t gone yet?”

It was Jeong Hae. Having apparently finished talking with the PD, he approached at a quick pace.

“Good job.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Episode 6 of Who's the K aired. This was the episode where the first round of the second competition—the one that had already stirred up controversy over overlapping themes—was finally broadcast.

Since there had already been so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠much talk after the live incident, a lot of people were waiting to see how the stage would come across in this broadcast.

To cut to the conclusion first: the network did not suddenly stop playing devil’s editor, nor did it start giving everyone equal screen time.

They kept stacking the footage side by side for comparison, and people who took advantage of that to stir up friction were as active as ever.

The only real difference was that they still pitted the groups against each other, but without pulling any sleight of hand in the editing. They showed the footage exactly at the level the two groups deserved, nothing more and nothing less.

The broadcast still chased stimulation the way it always did, but because it no longer used editing to kill one side and inflate the other, the viewer response began to shift—subtly, but undeniably.

At least in the early part of the broadcast, the overall mood leaned toward defending Triple Shot.