Chapter 48
Chapter 48
The team "Husky," led by Ryu Cheong-woo, conducted their practices in a chilling atmosphere. This was due to the never-ending conflict among the team members.
[Choi Won-gil: I didn't expect (Lee Se-jin hyung) to react so sensitively.]
[Ki Jung-gyun: Does he have some kind of victim complex?]
[Ryu Cheong-woo: ……Sigh.]
Even the interviews and BGM inserted between scenes contributed to the uncomfortable vibe.
Since there wasn't a single participant without ambition, practice didn't grind to a halt. However, it wasn't progressing properly, either.
And instead of focusing on the parties involved in this conflict, the production crew funneled the entire growth narrative toward Cha Yu-jin, who had been sidelined from the drama.
This was where Park Moon-dae made his appearance. Strictly speaking, he played the role of an advisor helping the protagonist grow.
[Park Moon-dae: Is something bothering you?]
Then, several quick cuts showed Park Moon-dae talking to Cha Yu-jin in various locations and handing him snacks.
He had only supplied the snacks to resolve the situation quickly, like the mother in the folktale giving rice cakes to a tiger, but thanks to Cha Yu-jin’s interview saying, "Moon-dae hyung helped me," those scenes looked quite heartwarming.
Even Park Moon-dae’s fans were caught off guard, as it was a dynamic they hadn't seen much of.
While their stage had been a hit when they were on the same team during the second team match, no personal friendship had been shown until now.
Furthermore, why had he sought refuge with our boy instead of the proven leader, Ryu Cheong-woo?
However, the questions quickly subsided. Cute additional crumbs were always welcome.
On the screen, Cha Yu-jin successfully finished the stage, appealing to the audience with a fierce passion for the performance instead of his usual innocent image.
He might receive some criticism for hogging all the screen time, but he left a much more distinct impression. It was a narrative that drove home his inner growth and desperation.
Park Moon-dae felt a bit deflated watching Cha Yu-jin sweep up the exact kind of screen time he wanted, but his fans simply enjoyed seeing the cute, good-natured, and reliable side of Park Moon-dae on broadcast.
Even the reaction from general viewers was positive.
Since he appeared as a side character to Cha Yu-jin, who was blatantly given the spotlight, Cha Yu-jin drew all the aggro.
Only a subtle, positive image remained for Park Moon-dae.
As a result, the day after Episode 10 aired, Park Moon-dae felt a complex mix of emotions while browsing the internet. It was because he had ended up in a position where he was complaining despite being well-off.
‘It’s good to continuously make up for my early image. But… I still haven't captured that sense of desperation.’
He needed the kind of image Cha Yu-jin had taken. But the only stage left now was the finale.
And there was no reason for the production crew to give Park Moon-dae a narrative in the finale.
Up until now, they had only given him character traits that would make the broadcast interesting.
‘Should I give up?’
Clicking his tongue, Park Moon-dae mentally organized the remaining filming schedule.
Then, suddenly, he caught onto an event that would take place during the next shoot.
‘Wait, is it possible… with that?’
Of course, the broadcast depended entirely on the production crew's editing. However, it was worth the effort to try and produce cuts that could be used as content.
Park Moon-dae made up his mind.
‘There’s no harm in trying.’
For the record, he hadn't noticed Seon A-hyun, who was about to suggest eating braised spicy chicken, quietly putting his smartphone down after seeing Moon-dae lost in thought.
"Wow, it’s getting kind of hot now."
Keun Se-jin muttered as they entered the filming set.
It was already the end of April. They had started the first shoot in winter, but time had flown by in an instant.
‘I’ve completely adjusted.’
He thought wryly as he moved "Park Moon-dae’s" body, which no longer felt foreign, to change into his uniform.
Just then, Keun Se-jin, who had glanced his way, spoke up.
"Oh, did you get taller?"
"What?"
"You must be working out hard. You’ve bulked up a bit, too."
At those words, he realized it anew.
Over the past few months, he had grown quite a bit taller and put on a decent amount of muscle, so there was now almost no difference in physique compared to his original body.
"I’ve heard people say you can grow even after twenty-one, but this is the first time I’ve actually seen it."
"It’s the first time for me, too."
"Aiyoo~ is that so?"
I shrugged it off.
‘Am I around 177cm?’
Recalling the height he had measured a few days ago, I sat down in the waiting area of the set. It was actually awkward that there were no longer any unfamiliar faces around.
"Hi, Moon-dae~"
"Hello, hyung!"
‘Even if I go back to my original body, I might need an adjustment period.’
It was absurd. I gave a half-hearted greeting in return and took out my smartphone.
I intended to turn it off in advance since I’d have to hand it over soon.
However, a new notification had popped up on the phone. It was from the anonymous social media account I had created for monitoring public opinion.
Clicking it out of habit, a post that was just hitting tens of thousands of shares appeared.
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[The original singer of the trot song Moon-dae sang posted on social media lol (Link)]
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It wasn't a rare occurrence.
As the program heated up, even unrelated celebrities were starting to mention the participants.
When I followed the link, a social media page appeared with a large photo of a trot singer smiling brightly and holding up a finger heart.
In the background, a TV screen faintly showed the scene of "Park Moon-dae" singing the trot song.
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[Participant Park Moon-dae of <Aju-sa>, who sang my song so wonderfully! I’m rooting for you^^ I hope you definitely debut! #Aju-sa #LetsDoADuet #TrotCoolGuy]
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"……."
Well… it was a good thing the original singer was satisfied. The fans seemed to find it entertaining, too.
Just as I was about to turn the page with that thought, another post from the trot singer flickered across the screen. He had posted another large photo this time as well.
‘Wait.’
I took that photo.
Checking again, it was indeed an event photo I had taken a few years ago.
Since it hadn't sold, I had released the cut on a fansite out of a sense of conscience. The natural light had been good that day, so the photo quality was high; it made sense that he’d want to post it on his social media.
But something felt unsettling. As I turned off the smartphone, I realized the cause.
‘Wasn't it true that I didn't exist here?’
As soon as I entered Park Moon-dae’s body, I had definitely tracked the traces of my original body. But my personal information itself didn't exist at all.
Yet, the photos I took remain?
‘That’s strange.’
I immediately went onto WeTube and tapped the search bar. Then, I searched for the most famous fancam among the ones I had filmed.
[Young-rin Legend Fancam]
It was a fancam of Judge Young-rin passionately completing a performance in a downpour during her unknown days. This was the video that had provided the springboard for Young-rin’s meteoric rise.
Then, a familiar thumbnail appeared at the very top of WeTube.
‘It’s here.’
The video existed.
Of course, it wasn't my original account.
I had deleted the account where I uploaded unsold data when I started studying for the civil service exam. So… in terms of the current timeline, it would have been around last year.
Sure enough, the uploader’s comment was pinned at the top of the video’s comment section.
"……."
With this, it was almost certain.
‘I don't exist, but the data I filmed remains?’
It was a bit eerie. It was even more so considering I was under a status effect where I’d die if I didn't become an idol within a short period.
‘Is the karma of being a data seller really coming back to haunt me?’
It was a thought I’d had half-jokingly, but it was starting to feel like no joke.
‘What the hell are you?’
I opened the status window and asked, but there was no answer. I felt like a fool.
What on earth is this thing's goal?
"Hey, what are you doing?"
"Wait. Just thinking."
For now, I quickly snapped out of my thoughts. I had stumbled upon a contradiction, but filming was right around the corner.
‘I’ll look into it more once this is over.’
I immediately finished my thoughts and handed over my smartphone.
Getting distracted for no reason would only make me prey for an attitude controversy. I had to clear my head.
Fortunately, I didn't even need to try. As soon as filming started, the MC pushed the situation forward with rapid development.
"Welcome to the long-awaited third ranking announcement of <Re-listing! Idol Inc.>!"
As the participants offered the practiced applause they’d mastered over months of filming, he got straight to the point.
"However, before we find out your rankings, there is one thing! One thing we must check first. And that is your sincerity."
So "that" content has finally arrived. I guessed the MC’s next words.
‘He’s going to say let’s see how sincere we are about this audition. Through the "Casting Call."’
That’s right. This <Idol Inc.> series traditionally inserted another provocative piece of content around this time.
The so-called "Casting Call."
To put it simply, it was an event where agencies that were friendly with Tnet and had decent names came to cast the participants.
However, if you chose an agency, you had to drop out of the program.
Therefore, it was highly unlikely that a participant who had performed noticeably well in the program up to this point would leave.
The participants weren't fools; there was no reason to go to a mediocre agency when they could debut here in a group with guaranteed recognition.
In the end, since there was no way someone likely to debut would desert, it was merely an event meant to add tension to the program.
‘But I can use that tension.’
So, I planned to induce as much conversation as possible to appeal to how sincere "Park Moon-dae" was about this program.
…Of course, there was a higher probability it would be cut in editing.
"……Gulp."
I heard the sound of someone swallowing beside me. Most of them had probably guessed the "Casting Call" from the timing and the MC’s words.
And if they had been in the middle-to-lower ranks in the last ranking announcement, it was a moment where they could easily feel conflicted.
Since their chances of debuting here were low, they’d want to grab another lifeline.
The image of someone looking for an exit could be smoothed over to some extent with words like, "The agency that gave me the offer has been my dream for a long time, so I want to start a new challenge. I will show you a better, more improved side of myself in the future."
‘In fact, there have been consistent deserters from the lower ranks.’
I think about five people jumped ship in the last season. Considering the broadcast was canceled shortly after, it was a very wise move to cut their losses. Only those in the debut ranks got screwed over.
The MC dragged out the suspense until the participants were about to lose their breath before finally opening his mouth.
"And that is~!"
The large screen in front lit up.
‘Is a list of agencies going to appear?’
Just as the whispering about the "Casting Call" grew louder among the participants, the MC spread his arms wide and continued.
"A psychological test!"
"?!?"
"Through a prepared personality type test, we’re going to match you with the K-pop concept that fits you perfectly~!"
A chorus of "Wow…" erupted from the participants as their tension evaporated.
"……."
I felt completely deflated.
‘Was it just variety show filler?’
Or they might use that data to decide the next team match.
Either way, one thing was certain… I had been baited.
‘Dammit.’
Following the staff’s guidance, the participants moved into small rooms in groups of ten.
It was good that I didn't have to wait since they cut the groups by name, but the aftertaste was bitter because of the reality check.
‘I was just counting my chickens before they hatched.’
The room I entered was a modified one-person practice booth, with a camera installed in the middle of a small desk for two.
It was a typical space for solo angle cuts.
Holding back a sigh, I went around to the other side and sat at the desk. A questionnaire was displayed on the tablet already set up there.
The trendy social media-style design lowered its credibility.
‘It looks like a template floating around somewhere on the internet.’
I guessed they had probably outsourced it in a hurry as I tapped through the multiple-choice questions.