Chapter 534
Chapter 534
TeSTAR’s latest comeback music video.
The first thing to appear on screen was a cartoon-style animation with choppy transitions between frames.
A vermilion circus tent with flickering lights in the dead of night. It was the same eerie place where Kim Rae-bin had been sucked in after removing his rabbit mask in the teaser.
An echo effect was applied, making it sound like a memory, as the faint strains of a melody drifted through the air.
[♬♪♪-♩ ♬♩-♬♪♪]
Brilliant lights, the signature circus melody played on accordion and harmonica, and even the cheerful beat of drums.
However, the circus performers wearing animal masks looked exhausted and haggard, performing life-threatening stunts while bound in prisoner shackles. Meanwhile, the audience—mere pitch-black silhouettes—clapped and cackled.
Dissonant images of a joyful festival flickered by in dizzying fragments, like a film reel spinning out of control.
Then, as if a flame had been snuffed out—whoosh.
Thud.
Everything vanished in an instant.
Silence settled over the screen, calm and dark. What appeared next was a pitch-black backstage.
This time, it wasn't a cartoon, but live-action footage.
[----]
The camera slowly caught the black screen, pulling into a close-up so intense it felt like being sucked in.
Boom. Boom.
Amidst the slow, ominous drumbeats that sounded like a heavy heartbeat, a figure standing in the center came into view through a hazy beam of light.
It was the silhouette of a circus performer.
The figure, standing in silence, began to tear away the old rags and chains draped over his body.
And what was revealed…
A man wearing a black suit buttoned to the neck, a scarf, and a long coat.
Ryu Cheong-woo.
Click.
The moment the close-up stopped.
A lightbulb flashed like a lightning bolt above the standing Ryu Cheong-woo.
Awoooo—!
Along with a low, howling sound like a foghorn, drumbeats reminiscent of an opening ritual echoed out, and a sharp, powerful synthesizer wailed precariously.
To the rhythm of the sound, Ryu Cheong-woo slowly turned up his collar to hide his face and pulled his hat down low.
The moment he suddenly lunged toward the screen, the scene transitioned into a performance cut.
[It’s now.]
The choreography, which looked like spreading shadows, exquisitely seized the viewer's field of vision as if swallowing the camera whole.
From that point on, both the music and the visuals surged forward without a moment's rest.
With every change in part, the camera alternated between the inside and outside of the complex circus tent, intercutting with shots of the audience being ambushed.
The progression felt like running through a mysterious space from a first-person perspective, drastically heightening the sense of immersion.
The moment the shaky camera encountered the darkness, Kim Rae-bin’s fierce first verse kicked in as he kicked a rabbit mask out of the way.
[The tables have turned
Today, you are the sheep
Run further, go ahead
How amusing, this acrobatics]
Modern, heavy syllables—a stark contrast to the somewhat comical, retro circus music heard at the beginning—pierced the ears in sync with the performers' movements.
Even the sound effects of someone licking their lips were placed perfectly.
It felt almost like an invasion by an advanced civilization.
“…Phew.”
Nu-a, the leader of Iter, replayed the scenes he had already watched countless times.
The chorus choreography involved heavy stomping.
The composition and expressiveness of the dance felt as though the image of ‘hunting’ had been polished to its most attractive extreme.
No matter what frame he paused on, the position of every limb and the angle of every joint fell perfectly into place, radiating a clean sense of intimidation.
[Night of reversal
Hunting time
(Yea-h)
Call up, it's hunting season]
A Halloween night where circus animals hunt the audience in return.
The atmosphere of the circus—joyful and flashy, yet equally cruel—seemed to be torn apart by the sheer difference in "weight class" of the overwhelming sound and performance.
What catharsis!
The performers captured the unique aura of anti-heroes with magnetic pull, without a single hint of awkwardness.
The members, who had fully mastered when to apply tension, when to relax, and where to place the "wow points" most effectively, swept through the song like a storm.
The final chorus.
Cha Yu-jin, standing at the center, moved with wild abandon as if conducting with his entire body.
Then, the moment the music stopped as if being sucked away, he posed with perfect timing.
His eyes flashed like a predator’s.
[Get close to me]
That overwhelming execution.
TeSTAR’s music video didn't let go of the tension until the very last moment, when Seon A-hyun, with a pale, expressionless face, threw a circus lightbulb onto the floor.
No matter how many times he watched it, it was overwhelming.
“…….”
With slightly trembling hands, the leader of Iter put down the notebook he had been using to take notes.
He felt a sense of dizziness wash over him.
‘This isn’t going to work…’
He tried to hold it back, but a sense of hopelessness flooded in.
It was the kind of feeling a high school student might have when trying to write a professional academic thesis.
It was clear that this was the goal he would eventually meet at the end of his studies, but with what he currently possessed, the path to implementing it properly felt impossibly far away.
The performance shown by an opponent with immense talent, years ahead of him, crushed the rookie professional with a staggering amount of pressure.
“Ah…”
Originally, when he viewed TeSTAR simply as ‘respected seniors,’ he could use them as motivation, believing that they would one day become like them.
But the moment he thought he had to be as good as these people right now, his breath hitched.
It seemed impossible.
“…….”
However, the leader of Iter struggled to break free from that mindset.
Flipping through his notebook, he looked over the keywords he had written down—parts he ‘wanted to emulate’ or ‘wanted to express like this.’
‘It’s slow, but I’m not gaining nothing…!’
Every time he replayed it, there was something new to write down. Every time he analyzed it, he could specifically catch why TeSTAR’s performance was so good.
So, he grit his teeth.
He wouldn't give up.
‘Even if it’s just something similar!’
“Hyung! We want to practice a bit more… Yes. Teacher Choi. If he has time today…”
He asked his manager to arrange an additional practice session.
Even if he had to split up his meager sleeping hours, he had to make it happen somehow.
‘I can do it!’
He would pull through, just as he always had.
With that vow, he secretly hid the laptop he had brought back under the bed.
On the laptop’s final screen, an image of Park Moon-dae was frozen, performing a solo during a gentle, off-beat bridge.
“Moon-dae-ssi, please close your eyes~ Ah, I’ll try not to touch your earphones.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
As I carried out today’s schedule, I recalled what had just happened.
‘So…’
I went to take a few photos of someone else’s dog and ended up being pestered by a legendary senior who acted like we were close.
For the record, that senior, T-Holic’s Ha Jin-tae, was talkative until the very end.
—Moon-dae-ssi, the three of us, including Woo-dan, should all grab a drink together sometime!
I don’t know how he even came up with such an idea, but I just want to say I really wanted to decline.
And I also want to mention that I never asked for this phone call either.
[I heard the news that you met Jin-tae sunbae.]
Ah, yes.
I continued receiving my makeup while taking the call from VTIC’s Ju-dan through my Bluetooth earphones.
“Yes. But I’m sorry, I’m at the shop right now, so my responses might be a bit delayed.”
[That’s fine. I’m not the type of person who completely fails to consider the other person’s situation. Besides, the situation I’m in right now is also quite unique.]
So that’s how you can give a simple explanation of being in the military.
Anyway, since there was no reason to argue, I readily agreed.
“You’re working hard.”
[Yes. It’s not without its difficulties.]
“…….”
Then I listened to him talk about how ‘the military isn’t rational, but you’ll be able to endure it once you adjust.’
‘Is it a universal rule for Corporals to change their tune once they get some rank?’
Regardless, I didn’t exactly have much to say to this guy, so I planned to just give some appropriate responses and hang up.
However, a somewhat interesting topic did come up.
[According to Jin-tae sunbae’s claim, he seems to think he gave you some quite useful advice. Is it okay to treat that as the truth?]
Hmm…
Recalling the conversation with the T-Holic guy, I slightly furrowed my brows.
‘It was advice, in a way.’
T-Holic’s Ha Jin-tae had told me not to underestimate Iter, saying, ‘Kids who have been trainees at major agencies for a long time have tenacity.’
But honestly, when I first heard it, it didn’t seem like particularly meaningful advice.
‘Is there even an idol who succeeded without tenacity?’
It seemed like a virtue that everyone who succeeded possessed.
So, I had reflexively asked back.
—What do you mean by tenacity?
—Hmm. Is it a bit vague? …Right, do you know how kids who debut at major agencies usually debut?
—Excuse me?
—They work hard to pass the audition, work hard to get into the debut group, and work hard again to release their debut album. But there’s no guarantee when that will actually happen.
Through the explanation that followed, I understood what he meant by ‘tenacity.’
—Since the timing for the debut group is undecided, they have to work tirelessly for years without knowing when it’ll end. And since debuting is like passing through the eye of a needle, it’s incredibly cutthroat.
Because aspiring idols know that debuting at a major agency is an absolute advantage, they try to stick around with everything they’ve got.
And if they break through and win, they debut.
—So, the kids who break through and debut have this idea ingrained in them that they can do anything if they just work hard. They think they achieved everything through their own effort.
At every stage, whether through luck or skill, the ones who made it up without ever tasting failure are the ones in the debut groups of major agencies.
In short, they don’t really know the taste of failure.
—Subconsciously, they never admit that they could fail even if they work hard.
‘So… it’s called tenacity, but it’s closer to obstinacy.’
Did he beautify the inability to cut one's losses because they haven't learned the timing as ‘tenacity’?
That was the conclusion I reached, but the conclusion the T-Holic member reached was peculiar.
—So, it means they can work hard no matter what. For a very, very long time without getting tired. Ugh.
In those words, I could even feel a hint of him being slightly fed up. As if he had experienced it himself.
‘…Wait.’
At that moment, a different group came to mind rather than Iter, whom the T-Holic guy had used as an example.
A group that would have been the most annoying from the perspective of T-Holic in their prime, and a group that perfectly fit the description of being ‘from a major agency.’
[Hmm. It’s not an incorrect analysis.]
It was VTIC.
Since VTIC looked that way from T-Holic’s perspective, it seemed he had analyzed Iter through the same lens.
‘That’s not it.’
VTIC was like that because some out-of-the-box crazy guy was holding the leader position tight, but Iter wasn't that kind of anomaly.
‘I think that only works if there’s a truly exceptional person in the team…’
…Though the person from VTIC himself seemed to inwardly agree.
[It’s a persuasive analysis. It’s a bit surprising. I also debuted without knowing failure. In fact, I’m no different from a flower in a greenhouse.]
“…I see.”
[Yes. I don’t want to leave the greenhouse in the future either.]
He’s saying that with his own mouth?
Anyway, I decided to keep T-Holic’s advice in the back of my mind but not try to force it to fit TeSTAR’s situation too much.
‘Everyone’s situation is different.’
…And soon enough, I would see with my own eyes that my words, ‘everyone’s situation is different,’ were true.
A few days later.
The day of the mid-term evaluation recording for True Competition.
[Break out of the silence and gear up again
Fill this space with the sound of applause]
Iter performed their stage before TeSTAR.
[Set up]
Until the stage ended, they gave it everything they had.
“…….”
The amount of practice was evident in the dance break.
Of course, they had looked polished before, but this was different.
‘The quality has changed.’
If before it felt like they had practiced hard according to what others had choreographed and taught them, this felt like they had practiced to squeeze out their ‘absolute maximum.’
‘I can feel that they agonized over how to give the most natural impact in each of their parts.’
A desperate mindset of showing everything without a single regret seeped through.
It was the aura of a desperate person.
The sensation transmitted to the viewer by someone who, even though they know the reality they cannot win against, clashes with it to somehow overcome it.
“…….”
I clenched my fists.
There are narratives in the world that universally move people’s hearts.
A situation with a cliff at one's back.
The dogged tenacity of someone trying to make it through a tightrope walk between two impossible choices while gritting their teeth.
That unique spite and effort.
The will to stubbornly push upward even while being bombarded with checks and controversies.
These were the inherent attributes of a ‘Rising Star.’
…Regardless of the reason for that controversy.
Regardless of whether they were a truly exceptional person or not.
The psychology of wanting to cheer for this team that was struggling to climb up as the underdog.
—The Underdog.
It was the position TeSTAR had almost monopolized until they won the Grand Prize.
Furthermore, TeSTAR had these ‘exceptional people’ positioned within the group, and with the survival show maximizing the narrative, it was an attribute that could hold the public’s attention for a very long time.
However, once the challenger becomes the champion, the attributes of the challenger naturally disappear.
It was an image that could only be held for a limited period.
‘But that doesn’t mean any team with a bit of a name can have this.’
Because there was a minimum threshold.
—They are clearly good.
That was the qualification.
—If they work that hard and are that good, they should receive better treatment.
Evoking this sentiment on a stage where the public is paying attention.
They had to at least pass this baseline for it to be effective.
And until now, there had been no team that surpassed that since TeSTAR, but…
[Leap over!]
Right now, the guys performing for the mid-term evaluation on that stage were barely crossing that limit.
“…….”
Goddammit.
It was the kind of story survival show producers loved most.