Chapter 574
Chapter 574
TeSTAR’s next schedule: a joint concert in Singapore.
This was a typical one-off event organized by a broadcasting station, rounding up various artists for a quick cash grab.
In these joint concerts, a singer’s current standing is laid bare by the treatment they receive. From the size of the waiting room to the performance order, it’s essentially a battlefield where agencies scrap over "how much convenience" they’re being shown to assert their hierarchy.
Especially the ending!
It’s the spot that certifies who the most popular and powerful artist is—and by extension, which agency holds the most sway.
‘…Or at least, that’s how most of the industry hacks think.’
Because of this, if more than two top-tier groups are on the lineup, the negotiations over who gets the ending start as early as the casting stage.
And as ridiculous as it was, that was exactly the situation now.
—TeSTAR or Young-rin?
Both were Grand Prize winners from the previous year. They were even currently splitting awards at various ceremonies. It seemed like the perfect setup for an exciting dogfight over who would take the final stage, but…
“Yep, we’re totally fine not doing the ending~ Hey, don’t worry about it!”
To the disappointment of cyber wreckers everywhere, neither we nor Young-rin had much interest in that sort of thing.
‘Back when we were under T1, we only took the ending a few times at their own concerts.’
Usually, if VTIC was in the mix, they’d always take it, given their perfect balance of seniority and popularity.
‘Right now… based on seniority, the ending would likely go to Young-rin rather than TeSTAR.’
Young-rin taking the ending? That was actually better for us. If TeSTAR took it here, we’d just end up being targeted for unnecessary online drama.
Screen time, rather than the ending slot, was the true indicator of popularity. And we had already secured that.
“TeSTAR will have all three songs aired.”
“Oh~ Got it!”
The lineup consisted of three songs: Magic Boy, Night of the Night, and Sanyang (Hunting). A solid set.
For the record, we agreed to perform the original version of Sanyang but switch to the "Circus" concert version for the final climax to utilize the stage equipment.
“As expected, this is a great way to promote the concert and leave a strong impression at the same time!”
“Exactly! I love this choreography!”
“Right. Still, Yu-jin, A-hyun, be careful when you do the backflip at the end.”
“Yes…!”
It was just as we had finished a smooth but grueling rehearsal. Urgent news arrived.
“They say we’re the ending.”
“…??”
[Perf.#18 / TeSTAR (7)]
At the very bottom of the fresh, hot-off-the-press cue sheet, the name circled in ink was not Young-rin, but TeSTAR.
“……”
A fundamental question arose.
“Why?”
Of course, as a fandom-driven group, we might have more pull overseas than Young-rin, who was a public-friendly powerhouse dominating the digital charts, but seniority still wasn't something to be ignored.
‘We didn’t say a word, so why are they shoving this into our mouths?’
I wondered if some fake news had spread on WeTube about TeSTAR blowing up so big abroad that even the terrestrial broadcasters were finally moving their heavy asses.
Of course, no such miracle had occurred. It was all the result of calculated moves.
Keun Se-jin, who had taken the cue sheet from Ryu Cheong-woo and was scanning it thoroughly, shrugged his shoulders.
“Ah~ The HaloHe-im members are doing three songs.”
“Hmm…?”
That was it.
Two stages with their own songs, plus one cover of a song by Young-rin’s original group, ‘Saint You’—a total of three songs.
‘They got almost the same amount as TeSTAR.’
The rookie co-ed group had secured an enormous amount of airtime, far beyond what their name value warranted. Of course, they hadn't secured it themselves.
‘Their agency grit their teeth and poured everything into the rookies.’
Since that agency had only risen to prominence thanks to Young-rin’s group, they weren't traditionally close with the broadcasting stations. It seemed they had been walking on eggshells while pushing for this… and the result was this.
“…Is this ending slot a bribe so we won’t protest?”
Bae Se-jin’s guess was likely the correct one. Young-rin had given up her own benefit for the sake of her agency’s rookies and yielded to TeSTAR.
“Mmm.”
A brief silence fell.
“Sh-should we decline…?”
“Not necessarily.”
It would be strange to kick away an ending slot we were already given. In fact, it might lead to even bigger misunderstandings than just accepting it, so the right move was to go along with it for now.
‘It’s not like we can start throwing a fit now about why HaloHe-im has the same screen time as us.’
I finished my calculations quickly and coldly.
“I think we should just work hard since we’ve been given the spot. What does everyone else think?”
Everyone agreed, and the anomaly was settled in an instant.
However, even after the members dispersed, Keun Se-jin remained in his spot, staring at the cue sheet for a while.
“What are you doing?”
“…Ah, Moon-dae, Moon-dae~”
He looked at the cue sheet with a strange expression and crossed his arms.
“It’s nothing much… just, a thought occurred to me.”
“What thought?”
“I wonder if Young-rin sunbaenim has completely shifted her heart toward being a producer.”
Hmm?
“I mean, given the situation… doesn’t this look more like a decision made as the producer of that rookie group rather than as a singer?”
That… was a fair point. Moreover, Young-rin was a director at that agency. Since she had practically carried the company on her back after her group’s fancam went viral, her voice within the company wouldn't just be a title; it would carry real weight.
So, this meant…
‘Does it mean she personally and willingly yielded the opportunity to the rookies?’
I found myself looking at the cue sheet with a complicated feeling. I could only imagine how the guy standing next to me felt.
I glanced at Keun Se-jin. Since he was someone who had run forward while grinding his very soul into being an idol, seeing a senior who had already succeeded "yielding" like this probably didn't sit well with him.
“You don’t like it?”
“Well… hey, everyone lives their life differently!”
Keun Se-jin brushed it off with his usual slickness.
‘He’s not denying it, though.’
Well, there was no need to talk about it further.
“Right, I get it. Oh, I had some feedback on the last move in the Sanyang stage.”
“Oh~ What is it?”
Let’s just focus like hell on our own stage, our own concert.
The brief speculation ended there. However, I soon gained an opportunity to inadvertently test Keun Se-jin’s "theory."
“…Hello, Young-rin sunbaenim.”
Right there, behind the concert venue building.
*
Actually, my destination wasn't here. It was a break, and I was just passing through to use a vending machine on the outskirts of the first floor.
But I happened to lock eyes with Young-rin, who was standing in the backyard of the building, so I ended up greeting her.
‘It would be weirder if I didn’t greet her.’
I just hadn't expected her to be standing here. These days, even the performers who smoked would do it indoors with e-cigarettes because they’d get caught by drone shots if they went outside. There was no reason for anyone to be standing in this unremarkable backyard.
‘If I had to guess….’
Judging by her expression, "wanting some fresh air" seemed like the right description. However, Young-rin instantly wiped away the somewhat troubled look on her face.
“Ah, Moon-dae-ssi. It’s been a while. Good to see you.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
The moment I bowed my head, several plausible reasons why she might be troubled came to mind, but…
“……”
Forget it. I decided to stop overthinking, give a quick compliment, and get out of there. Let’s see, something recent to praise…
“The songs you gave to your agency juniors were really good. I’m looking forward to your new album even more now.”
That should be safe. Young-rin immediately gave a standard reply.
“Thank you.”
But her next words had quite an impact.
“Um… but I don’t have any plans to release a new album this year, so I’d appreciate it if you could wait patiently.”
“……”
No album? Her nuance suggested she had no plans for one at all.
‘Is she really going all-in on producing?’
It seemed Keun Se-jin’s hunch was right. I quickly moved on to avoid any awkwardness.
“That’s a shame. There are so many people waiting for your stage… myself included.”
“Is that so?”
“…Yes.”
But the moment I answered, I couldn't help but recall her performances.
That rainy day when I took a fancam of the then-unknown Young-rin from ‘Saint You.’ And even the identical gestures she showed through the viewfinder when I briefly returned to Ryu Gun-woo’s body.
An idol who remembered her early days. A performance shown by someone who never gave up and never changed.
“……”
…For some reason, I felt a bit bitter. But I quickly shook it off. Dammit, now wasn't the time for this.
“Then until then, I’ll be cheering for the juniors you’re producing.”
This was enough for the role of a polite junior. I was planning to say ‘Goodbye’ and leave. If only Young-rin hadn't said what she said next.
“Thank you. Ah, come to think of it, some of the HaloHe-im members were originally under the same agency as TeSTAR.”
“……”
Hmm.
“Yes. I believe that was the case.”
When I responded, hoping to fish for some information, Young-rin murmured as if to herself.
“They needed a stronger impression to compensate for their existing image, so they ended up debuting in a unique way… but I’m glad they’re getting more stage time now. They’re very talented performers.”
I read two nuances in those words. First, it seemed correct that Young-rin had voluntarily yielded the ending to give her juniors more screen time. However…
“So you weren't the one who produced that reality program, sunbaenim.”
“……”
Young-rin smiled faintly.
“I do bear responsibility.”
It meant she had condoned it. Because…
“If there’s no one to watch the stage, all the practice is meaningless.”
She had deemed it an effective promotion nonetheless. To make even one more person take an interest and watch HaloHe-im’s performance.
“……”
As I remained silent, Young-rin added, almost like a joke.
“And besides, there are already seniors who went through a similar process and ultimately succeeded through their performances.”
“Pardon?”
And I realized who those "seniors" were from her expression.
“Is it us?”
It was TeSTAR. And I understood what she was talking about. Idol Inc.
“Yes. There were few programs as provocative as Aju-sa back then.”
But there were idol hopefuls who gained recognition, momentum, and the opportunity to succeed through that program. Young-rin, who had even participated in that program as the main MC, declared calmly.
“Of course, this is an even more radical and provocative method. I also feel that the promotion is increasingly drifting in a direction unrelated to the stage.”
“……”
“But even so, there are people who need even that opportunity.”
I coldly recalculated. A survival group that ended in a rigging controversy. Even if we had released them from their agency contracts, most places probably wouldn't have invested properly in trainees who already had that stigma attached to them. They would have likely spent a year or two milking the remaining fans before their activities quietly faded away.
But Young-rin’s agency had invested properly, even if it was through the insane method of a group dating reality show. So, one could argue that an escape route to a more successful future had been opened… but still.
‘No matter how you look at it, trashing the mental state and image of kids who just want to perform with some bullshit dating show is…’
“You seem upset.”
“No, I’m not.”
That was close. I quickly checked my facial muscles. They were fine. She probably guessed because my response wasn't immediate.
But Young-rin was unperturbed.
“No. It’s only natural to be upset. It’s a good thing. There should be more people like that.”
I’m glad she knows.
“Still, I want to support them in any way possible if they want the stage. Because I know what it feels like to be desperate for that opportunity.”
The idol who had gone through a long period of obscurity and climbed up by tightly grasping a single, slender chance called a fancam, spoke.
“I think that’s why I started producing.”
“……”
“And so, this year, I’ve come to take on producing before my own album.”
I asked without thinking.
“Are you more satisfied than when you’re active as a singer?”
“I wouldn't say that. But I won't know for sure until I try it more.”
“……”
“I’m happy because I’m an idol singer. But…”
Young-rin finished her sentence with a faint smile.
“A moment will come for you too, Moon-dae-ssi, when you can give a choice to the version of yourself that isn't an idol.”
*
“……”
“M-Moon-dae?”
“Yeah.”
I sat up.
‘What a weird dream.’
It seemed the conversation I had with Young-rin at the last joint concert had played through my mind. It wasn't even that big of a deal, yet the afterimage lingered like this.
‘Why did I take her saying that being a full-time producer is actually quite nice so seriously?’
It wasn't a great dream to have right before an idol concert. I stood up, rolling my shoulders.
“Moon-dae hyung, did you doze off?”
“Just for a second.”
I checked my throat. No problems. Looking at the clock, I had only dozed for about three minutes.
‘Good.’
My condition was excellent. It had to be.
“Let’s finish fixing my hair and head straight in.”
“Yep!”
Because today was the first day of our renewed concert.
‘Rehearsal was clean, too.’
Especially since we had put so much effort into the promotion for this concert, we were going to show them a proper performance.
‘Absolutely.’
I swallowed hard, my head buzzing with adrenaline. I was about to move, but…
“Wait a second.”
I picked up my smartphone, hesitated for a moment, and left a text.
—The concert is starting soon.
It was to Keun-dal.
After completely breaking free from the system, I had been in contact with him occasionally, but it wasn't like before when he’d pop up whenever he was bored. Still, we exchanged texts or calls on important days like this. He had even contacted me when the promotion video came out, saying he enjoyed it.
However…
‘…He didn’t say he was coming to this concert.’
The guy who used to keep track of all of TeSTAR’s schedules seemed to have grown a bit distant. It was a good thing. I thought it would be better for him to spend some time for himself, so I planned to send him a ticket later.
I put down my smartphone, thinking I wouldn't look at it again until the show was over.
At that moment.
Vrrr—
“…?”
A call came from Keun-dal.
‘Is he calling to cheer me on?’
Recalling his usual behavior, I gave a small smirk and picked up the phone. But what I heard was a panting voice.
…A strange one.
—Sir, sir! This is the Incheon Ganghwa Fire Station.
“……”
—I’m sorry, but do you know the owner of this phone? Ryu Gun-woo-ssi!
“Yes.”
—What is your relationship to him?
I thought there was a high probability it was voice phishing. However, the number on the screen was a regular mobile number.
“……”
Following a strange premonition, I racked my brain.
“I’m his older brother. But why…?”
I let the words slip, intentionally letting them misunderstand that I was family. An urgent reply came back.
—Sir, please listen calmly. Your younger brother is currently missing here in the mountains.
“……”
What? I looked at the clock.
“He should be… at work right now.”
—No. He didn't show up for work, so we’re currently searching after receiving a report. Did Ryu Gun-woo-ssi mention anything about the mountains recently?
“……”
—Or any other destination……. …Sir? Sir?
It was one hour before the start of the concert.