Chapter 264
Chapter 264
I placed my hands on the table.
It was a small table placed in the hotel room just for the sake of appearances, but in front of it sat a camera as massive as the table itself.
The production crew behind the camera spoke.
“Please introduce yourself.”
“Yes. Hello. I’m TeSTAR’s Park Moon-dae.”
I gave a small nod toward the camera and spoke with a faint smile.
“Right now, I am… participating in TeSTAR’s second concert tour.”
And I was also participating in the production of a concert documentary.
Namely, this thing right here.
‘To be honest, we film plenty of behind-the-scenes footage for concerts anyway.’
It builds a sense of familiarity with individual idols, and fans find the behind-the-scenes stories of the concerts they attended interesting.
However, producing a separate documentary is a rare occurrence. The fact that they weren't just treating this as merchandise for fans but were launching it for the general public was encouraging.
It meant that the production carried enough public significance to have left a mark on the flow of popular music.
‘In a way, it’s a symbol of being in a different class.’
For instance, VTIC probably already has three or four documentaries out.
So, everyone acknowledged that this was an act of knocking on the door of the elite tier.
Whether everyone liked it, however, was a different matter.
—…Won’t it be uncomfortable? Having cameras attached to us for months.
—Well, they said they’d come in appropriately after consulting with us.
—I’m worried that my daily life isn't very interesting, so the content might not be engaging….
—Oh, come on, the experts will handle the editing just fine! You don’t need to obsess over being funny; it’s a documentary, not a variety show! They’ll make us look cool.
In the end, through a majority vote and proper persuasion, filming for the documentary began, and so far, there hadn't been any major issues.
‘Though… it does feel like they’re sticking a bit too close.’
For example, things like this.
“Is there anything you find most uncomfortable during the tour?”
“Well, it’s mostly environmental factors… like adjusting to jet lag or getting used to new venues.”
“Ah~ I can see that. Then, how about… on a more emotional level?”
“Well, emotionally….”
I could feel the production crew’s desire to capture something raw.
In every camera, I saw an attempt to bridge the distance to my inner self.
They would lower my guard with simple questions, and once I provided a refined answer, they would slowly pivot the direction to make my true feelings leak out.
It was a different kind of inducement than that of variety show crews who chased after provocation.
Of course, in times like this, all I had to do was provide an answer that ‘sounded sincere.’
“I think it’s because I find it hard to bear when the audience can’t fully enjoy the concert due to factors I couldn't control.”
I paused for a moment as if thinking briefly, then answered again.
“So, I think that’s what I’m most sensitive about and what weighs on my mind the most. The perfection of the concert.”
This would give them the satisfaction of having unearthed the interviewee’s personality.
Sure enough, the crew nodded and moved on to the next question.
“In that case, what does a concert mean to TeSTAR?”
“I suppose it’s where we meet the fans at the closest distance….”
I believe I continued to provide answers suitable for a documentary after that. The edited version would probably look quite plausible.
*
“Thank you.”
The interview continued like that for about an hour. It ended as the crew left to visit the next member.
“…….”
I lay down on the bed.
The tour itself was actually more relaxed than an active promotion period.
Now that we had some seniority, we were given individual hotel rooms during the tour. And between concerts, there was quite a lot of downtime just to rest and recover physical strength.
“It’s quiet.”
I closed my eyes. Perhaps because I’d spent several years surrounded by such noisy guys, it even felt a bit awkward.
“…….”
Just before useless thoughts could bubble up.
Suddenly, the question I’d just heard from the production crew echoed in my head.
—What does a concert mean to you?
A certain scene immediately came to mind.
The first concert of this tour.
The concert at the Seoul Gocheok Dome, held after a very long time.
—Waaaaaaaah!!
The cheers. The fireworks. The heat.
And the high-purity focus.
If this massive psychological elevation and sense of being overwhelmed were the essence of a concert, then the charity concert we held virtually could just be called a ‘shoot.’
Perhaps because it had been so long, I felt a density as if I were underwater.
The air itself was different.
While concerts are a great source of income from the company’s perspective, from the performer’s perspective, they were nothing short of a transcendental space.
If you pull it off properly, there is a reward that outweighs the pressure. And for this group, it had been far too long since they’d felt that.
“Whew.”
…I’m glad the documentary crew wasn't attached to us starting from Seoul.
‘Because everyone went home bawling their eyes out.’
They never could have done an interview in that state.
—Dream a dream as blue as the day!! Sob!
The guys singing their debut song with their arms around each other’s shoulders at the dorm were the definition of public nuisances. It was obvious that if the place hadn't been soundproof, neighbors would have filed complaints.
‘Ryu Cheong-woo did a good job of cutting off the requests.’
I briefly acknowledged the leader’s merit. Then, after checking the next W Live schedule, I fell straight asleep.
…Reminding myself that there were 34 hours left until the next concert.
‘It’ll be here in no time.’
Since we were in the US, the venues were smaller than in Korea, but a concert was still a concert. There would be a similar density of pleasure.
And after the time spent holed up in the hotel and the rehearsals, the concert began once more.
[Hello LA!]
[Wooooow!]
Yes. The concert was still a special experience, and it was worth doing.
However, I’d have to revise my impression of the documentary crew.
‘These guys are overdoing it.’
“Moon-dae, are you okay?”
“…I’m fine.”
I stood up, removing the oxygen mask. The camera hurriedly followed me, and behind it, another staff member was frantically writing something down.
It was all so incredibly meaningful.
‘Are they building a narrative?’
But it would be faster to find an idol who doesn't use an oxygen mask; trying to highlight ‘passion’ with this would only result in a picture that was cliché beyond belief.
‘VTIC has already milked that dry.’
However, after the concert ended, I grasped the situation during the resumed interview.
“Moon-dae, have you felt any aftereffects since the car accident?”
“…? The car accident…. Um, no. I’m healthy.”
They had started asking about my physical condition.
‘Ah, I see.’
It seemed they wanted to frame me as the ‘perfectionist idol who gives his all despite being in pain.’
Adding a narrative instead of just listing dry facts for a documentary is interesting, so the attempt was good, but….
‘It’s a scam.’
I was someone who had been pronounced fully recovered even by modern medical standards.
Since I’d even bulked up my muscles because this album had many intense movements, building a story in that direction was deceptive.
I was healthy as could be.
‘If I set the stage with this, it’s at a level where a lie detector would catch me.’
Interviewing me about ‘anxiety after the car accident’ was the limit. I added a few more firm words.
“I did have a desire to show the fans a good side of myself quickly because I caused them so much worry, but I am completely healthy now.”
At that, an ambiguous silence flowed among the production crew.
What is this?
“Well, Moon-dae. It seemed like you were moving beyond your limits during the concert.”
“…I was?”
Were we at different concerts?
“Yes. The oxygen mask, for one. And the other members said so as well.”
“The members did?”
What on earth are they talking about?
Meanwhile, these guys were having a field day capturing my flustered expression. Is it that fun?
“They say it’s visible that you’re having a harder time than before the accident, and it breaks their hearts because you try your best not to show it every time.”
“…….”
In an instant, pieces of evidence flashed through my mind.
—You’re… already in a state where your stamina has dropped due to the aftereffects.
—Getting seriously injured and being bedridden for so long must have affected your condition.
“They feel like you’re burdened physically and wish you would lean on them more.”
No, the thing I leaned on was Bacchus.
And even without it, I was fine now, but the members were constantly remembering me from the days when I was under the influence of ‘Bacchus’ and comparing it to now.
Forgetting the fact that my stamina back then was actually unrealistically high.
And unlike my resolution, I had replaced the void of ‘Bacchus’ with ‘Mission Constitution,’ putting a period on the golden age of my stamina that could never return….
Furthermore, with the System gone, I could no longer obtain Gacha.
‘I’m screwed.’
It was a checkmate.
I suppressed a groan and barely managed to open my mouth.
“…I didn't know the members felt that way.”
Don’t smile; I’m not moved.
But I’ll have to make use of that misunderstanding.
I paused for a moment and then answered slowly.
“I was the one who was most seriously injured, after all. So the members looked out for me a lot. I think what they said came from a similar context this time too… I’m just grateful.”
…And half of it was actually sincere.
So just take the heartwarming story of friendship between members and give up on the injury-overcoming story.
But these guys didn't give up.
“Over here!”
“M-Moon-dae, are you okay?”
“…Yeah.”
‘Sigh….’
First, they persistently filmed me backstage. They clearly preferred shots of me being supported or gasping for breath; their intention was obvious.
‘They’re completely hooked on this.’
I considered giving them a serious warning a few times but then resigned myself.
‘Do whatever you want.’
Seeing as they were good at catching interesting points, it seemed the documentary itself would be based on facts and turn out quite entertaining.
It felt like I was unintentionally going to instill a distorted fantasy about myself in the public, but… whatever.
‘Fighting through an injury is a common behind-the-scenes trope anyway.’
Right, this profession might have been something that starts with deception and ends with deception from the beginning…. Let’s just make sure I’m worth the money.
‘It looks like rumors of aftereffects started by the members are going to spread worldwide….’
I gave up on everything and focused on the concert.
However, it seemed there was someone who couldn't do the same.
“Stop! That’s enough!”
“…!”
It was during the time when a slightly long VCR was playing before the encore. Suddenly, a loud voice erupted from backstage.
Moreover, it was the voice of the least sensitive guy among us.
“Yu-jin?”
“Is that Cha Yu-jin?”
The guys who were waiting after changing their outfits ran toward the source, startled by the unexpected situation.
It was a bit bothersome that the cameras followed us, but per the contract, we’d included a clause about discarding film anyway.
‘Checking the situation comes first.’
And as we rounded the hallway, we saw the place where the sound had come from.
It was a small backstage room mainly used for managing things like muscle cramps or joint pain.
Cha Yu-jin had a patch on his shoulder as if he’d been receiving emergency care, but there was a more urgent matter.
Cha Yu-jin was in a standoff with the documentary crew.
“…Yu-jin?”
Cha Yu-jin did look back at us, but he soon stared straight ahead again.
To be precise, at the production staff behind the cameraman.
“Don’t do that. I don’t like it.”
“Yes, yes. We’re sorry.”
“Get out. Don’t come in here.”
And he firmly sent the crew outside.
“……Just a moment.”
I also sent the camera that had followed me outside for now. It was a bit annoying that they tried to film even the closed door until the very end, but Cha Yu-jin came first.
As soon as Ryu Cheong-woo confirmed the door was closed, he turned off his microphone and spoke to Cha Yu-jin.
“Yu-jin. There are cameras. If you have something to say, it won’t be too late to do it after the concert is over and the cameras are down.”
“…….”
“Even if you’re unhappy, let’s finish the concert first. We only have 4 minutes… no, 3 minutes left until the encore.”
“…OK. I understand.”
Cha Yu-jin didn't look particularly happy, but he nodded. He wasn't the type to let his condition affect his performance on stage, so the encore would be fine.
‘I thought those documentary guys were overdoing it.’
Still, I didn't expect Cha Yu-jin to react like this.
I don’t know what they poked to make him react this way. I thought the crew was staying within the lines.
I suppressed a sigh and opened the door. Immediately, a camera poked its way in.
…This time, even I found it a bit irritating. That passion might be the cause.
‘I’ll have to have a word with them as soon as this is over.’
But before this concert could even end, all hell broke loose once again.