Chapter 291
Chapter 291
To get straight to the point, the digital release was a massive hit.
“W-what rank is it...?”
“Hold on.”
I checked the daily music charts.
[3rd Place: TeSTAR – Promise]
“Jackpot.”
“We went up one more spot than yesterday!”
“Wooooow!”
Cha Yu-jin walked past, humming some strange hooligan-like song. Honestly, I could understand why he was so hyped.
I was feeling... a thrill myself.
‘There’s no better hormone than seeing results match the investment.’
The songs above us were a drama OST and a track by an indie band that had been dominating the charts for a long time.
In terms of summer-targeted easy-listening tracks, we were effectively number one.
‘The build-up worked perfectly.’
The pleasure of seeing the route I’d been piecing together since two months ago—starting with the finished song—hit every timing window perfectly was close to euphoria.
Buzz. And more buzz.
I looked back at the flow of the past week.
The "Heavy Rain" stage, which had drawn attention through a mix of controversy and admiration, swept through social media platforms. Thanks to the explanation that dropped at just the right time, that explosive energy settled into a "positive image."
Even if something became an issue, people couldn't fully enjoy it if there were safety concerns. Now, those barriers to consumption were gone.
‘Human psychology is interesting; people get more enthusiastic when a restriction is placed and then lifted, rather than just being given freedom from the start.’
After that, as expected, people who encountered the "water spray" choreography were sucked into the digital track as soon as the song became familiar to their ears.
Once again, but on a much larger scale, the virtuous cycle between the music and the performance was complete.
[(Pre-release) Those sailing to the sky appear with a water drop dance! | Tiny Club Ep. 102]
Eventually, even a parody pre-release—which looked like it had been hastily edited into this week’s TV variety show appearance—popped up.
If it was appearing on the most conservative media outlets, it meant it had officially settled as a trend.
‘It means TV stations are using the image of that stage to bait viewers for engagement.’
And this was the result.
The song itself, the performance itself, had become a public trend.
‘It’s the momentum.’
It was similar to the trend I’d vaguely seen during the "Call" promotions, which had been shattered by the car accident.
I was talking about an influence that extended far beyond TeSTAR’s top-tier name value.
It had reached the point where anyone on the internet saying they "couldn't feel the hype" was buried under mocking comments.
“We’re all doing well because Rae-bin made such a great song.”
“You flatter me! It was a collaborative work, and it’s a song that couldn't have existed without the members' feedback and Moon-dae hyung’s vision! I will continue to move forward without becoming conceited!”
Kim Rae-bin spoke almost without breathing. Anyone watching would think he was giving an acceptance speech.
Meanwhile, Cha Yu-jin chimed in seriously.
“Se-jin hyung and I made a totally cool choreo for Kim Rae-bin’s song. Kim Rae-bin didn't do it alone!”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, you dummy!”
“That’s what I’m saying too, you dummy!”
They were having fun. I tossed a word to the person who had been mentioned.
“Must be nice.”
“Huh? ...Of course it’s nice~ Since people like it.”
Surprisingly, Keun Se-jin seemed a bit embarrassed.
“How should I put it... It’s hard to believe it’s doing this well.”
“……”
No, he looked more deeply moved.
He was a guy who had almost no solo activities related to music. Seeing choreography he had personally selected and arranged become a trend must have felt special.
Keun Se-jin looked up at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and threw his arms up.
“Ah~ whatever! It’s great! Thanks! Thank you, my fellow members~!”
“Fighting!!”
When things go well, the atmosphere follows. Even Bae Se-jin’s face turned bright red as he clapped for Keun Se-jin. The celebration ceremony for the chart ranking was quite a sight.
“Ah, TeSTAR showed them something again~”
It was 1:00 AM, and we had another schedule at 4:00 AM, but everyone seemed to have forgotten their fatigue.
Based on past experience, they weren't the type to slack off on their schedules, so it was fine, but...
‘It’s not the time to let our guard down.’
In terms of name value alone, it was hard to say we had surpassed VTIC. Besides, the difference in first-week sales wasn't going anywhere.
Though, we did sell... quite a lot this time.
[TeSTAR “The Ocean of Wonder” – 1,558,114]
1.55 million copies in the first week.
To be honest, I hadn't expected us to do this well, so I had a lot of thoughts.
Even at a glance, it was a staggering figure. Excluding VTIC, the number of active idols who had achieved these kinds of sales could be counted on one hand.
‘The momentum is still good.’
After checking the volume of albums still being sold even after the first week ended, I shrugged.
‘We can ride this for at least a month.’
I was almost certain this dynamic would continue.
I didn't think any other groups capable of hitting #1 on music shows would make a comeback until mid-August.
‘If it were me, I wouldn't enter now either.’
Why would anyone jump in to see what they could gain when two top-tier groups were strictly splitting the #1 spots?
Now that TeSTAR had moved beyond just barely holding on to creating a truly solid two-top rivalry, it would take quite a while before both sides slowed down.
VTIC fans seemed to realize this as well, as they shifted their stance.
It was an immediate gesture of truce.
The moment TeSTAR’s song settled into a trend, they seemed to have judged that "this won't work through a media war."
Instead, they would firmly solidify VTIC’s top-tier position and deflect the arrows to avoid stress.
‘Their experience shows.’
Of course, under the surface, they’d be gritting their teeth and creating rumors to take TeSTAR down... but that was expected.
Since the song was doing this well, the fans—our fans—would be having much more fun than stress.
From the perspective of the one climbing up, this situation was as good as a victory by decision.
‘Done.’
I turned off my smartphone.
...Was it time to enjoy the taste of a gamble, a challenge, succeeding exquisitely?
“Park Moon-dae!”
“Moon-dae, come here! You have to do this too!”
Good grief.
I stood up. It was funny seeing the encouragement pouring in from these hyped-up guys.
I’d just go over and put my arms around their shoulders or something. It was a moment where that felt okay.
Eight hours later. After a dawn photoshoot, a light interview filming took place at 9:00 AM.
The host was Tnet again.
The response to the two-day TaKon had been so good that they seemed to be putting together a lavish VOD special.
It looked like they’d been filming everyone from the Idol Inc. debut group to Mirinae since dawn.
Honestly, I thought someone with VTIC’s status would skip this, no matter how much the broadcast station called...
“Hello!”
“Good morning~”
Surprisingly, they had come. They must have been in the country.
Meeting them because our time slots overlapped wasn't very surprising.
‘They gave them the most convenient time slot.’
So, if they were filming, it was a natural progression for the two most successful groups of the same era to meet.
However... there was no need to assign us the same space just to give us the largest and best-equipped waiting room.
“……”
“……”
I fell silent as I saw the guy walking in after finishing his interview as the first runner.
It was Cheong-ryeo.
I’d have to be alone with this bastard for about twenty minutes until the next person arrived.
Well, it was a bit late to start avoiding him now.
“Looks like you were the first to film too, Junior.”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“Are you enjoying your promotions lately?”
“I’m trying my best to do well. It’s enjoyable, too.”
Surely this guy isn't going crazy because I beat him on the digital charts, right?
But Cheong-ryeo’s face looked quite relaxed.
“Me too.”
“……”
“Or rather, is it 'interesting'? It’s been a while since I’ve tried a new song. There are so many variables here that I’ve only been using songs I’d already verified in previous periods.”
Not only did his face look relaxed, but his answer used words that were far too "relaxed" for this setting.
“Yes. I see.”
What if someone walks in? How can he speak so openly?
“Hm? Speak comfortably.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Ah.”
The guy across from me chuckled.
“It’s not a commercial, and it’s not a music broadcast... outsiders rarely come to these hastily scheduled internal shoots. I think it’s okay to be comfortable.”
Is that so?
‘Is this an idol veteran speaking with his own safety on the line?’
True, our staff could come in, but there was no reason or justification for them to press their ears to the door and listen.
“If you say so.”
“Haha.”
I leaned back on the sofa and picked up my smartphone. Cheong-ryeo stopped laughing and asked.
“Are you aiming for the Grand Prize?”
“Every singer is.”
“No, I’m not talking about a general goal like that... I mean, it seems like you’ve planned your strategy very thoroughly for this year.”
“From the release timing to the music video, and even the viral effect of this 'Heavy Rain' stage—it’s all working out well.”
I looked at Cheong-ryeo.
“It worked because the song and the stage were fundamentally good.”
“……”
“I did it because it was worth doing.”
“Is that so.”
“Don’t you think your song worked because it was worth working?”
I lowered my gaze back to my smartphone.
“You said it was a song you hadn't verified before. Then what did you believe in when you did it?”
“I don’t know.”
Cheong-ryeo’s voice became flat.
“I just... tried to make it well.”
“And it turned out well.”
“Even though you took more of the digital results, Junior.”
Right, I knew this topic would come up eventually.
“Who’s the one who sold 2 million albums? Don’t act like you’re unilaterally conceding the results.”
“Haha!”
Cheong-ryeo laughed.
“I suppose I should. I have no intention of falling behind, anyway.”
That answer sounded somewhat refreshing.
“As if you ever would.”
I buried myself back into the sofa. The atmosphere loosened up a bit.
And then, suddenly, behind my own voice, I heard a faint, dull rustling sound...
‘No way.’
My mind froze.
“Ah, Kong-i...”
I didn't wait to hear the rest and stood up immediately. Cheong-ryeo shut his mouth and stood up right after me.
Without warning, I turned around, walked to the door, grabbed the handle, and pulled it open.
“……!!”
Damn it, someone was there.
The person jumping up from behind the door was...
Chae Seo-dam.
“……”
Surprise, unexpectedness—throw all that away.
‘This bastard was trying to eavesdrop.’
Reflexively, I replayed the conversation Cheong-ryeo and I just had.
‘No swearing, and the unrealistic talk was...’
Did we say anything like that? No, I think we just used excessively raw expressions about this promotion...
I spoke informally to Cheong-ryeo.
“That’s strange. Based on the movement path, this way is... Ah.”
Fuck, I thought no one was around here.
Cheong-ryeo stared at Chae Seo-dam, his eyes gleaming.
“You came looking for your senior.”
“…!”
“It seems so. It’s not me since we don’t know each other... and there’s no other reason to come all the way out to this edge. Right?”
“……”
He came looking for me?
Looking at that expression that seemed ready to break into a cold sweat, it seemed likely.
In that moment, Chae Seo-dam regained his composure, and his expression returned to normal.
“I... just got lost and ended up here. Seniors.”
“The filming should be over.”
“They said I’d have to wait and film once more after lunch.”
Because they gave the best time to the top-tier groups, this bastard’s filming time had been pushed back, meaning he was currently in a waiting period.
And he found out where I was, followed me, and tried to eavesdrop on our conversation outside this door?
“But I have something I’m a bit concerned about, Senior.”
Then, for some reason, a sudden sense of leisure appeared in Chae Seo-dam’s voice.
“Actually, I’ve been scared of many things lately... so I record everything while I work. Just in case another misunderstanding causes trouble. Right?”
The panic gradually faded from Chae Seo-dam’s face, replaced by a glint in his eyes.
“I debuted because I was ‘lucky’... but if more rumors start, I thought I’d need an objective excuse.”
He placed a strange emphasis on one particular phrase.
This bastard...
I reflexively recalled the words I’d mouthed to him before.
‘Lucky bastard.’
“But this recorder, it’s higher performance than you’d think. I’m asking because I’m worried it might be a nuisance...”
“……”
“Did you perhaps say anything that would be troublesome if it were recorded?”