Chapter 9
Chapter 9
For the theme song performance, the participants were arranged in a fan shape centered around the Platinum-grade group. Naturally, the higher the grade, the closer they were to the front and center.
Beyond that, the only other grade privilege was that only the Platinum group had a specific part they were allowed to dance.
However, since catching even a single shot on camera could change one’s initial ranking, everyone seemed sensitive about their grades.
Furthermore, the production crew and trainers acted and spoke as if these grades carried immense weight, making it easy for the young participants to get swept up in the atmosphere.
To put it plainly, the number of participants who tried to strike up a conversation with me increased fivefold the moment I pinned on that Platinum badge.
I felt a slight sense of skepticism toward this blatant social hierarchy, something I hadn't even experienced back in high school.
To create such an atmosphere... I wondered what else this "wonderful" production crew would pull in the future.
Fortunately, even the villainous production team had some sense of direction. Among the Platinum grade, participants with a Dance stat of A or higher were placed further forward in the formation during the intro and the dance break.
Meanwhile, participants with relatively weaker dance skills were subtly moved to the back. Naturally, I fell into the latter category.
My position during the dance break was actually slightly behind some of the Gold-grade members. I could see Seon A-hyun and Lee Se-jin (Gold) right next to me.
Come to think of it, Lee Se-jin the child actor received a Silver. Looking at the public's reaction, I wouldn't be surprised if he’s the one who actually ends up debuting.
"Isn't it a bit of a bummer?"
Because of these thoughts, I just brushed off Lee Se-jin (Gold) acting friendly. Since he was somewhat cleared of suspicion, my guard had unintentionally lowered.
"Not really."
I answered flatly. He was likely referring to the fact that my stage position wasn't great for a Platinum grade.
"Wow, I think I would've been really disappointed."
"I can see why you would be."
"Huh? Why do you think so?"
"Because you're a good dancer."
Lee Se-jin’s dance was an A-. His vocal was a C+, and if his voice hadn't cracked during the high note, he might have taken the Platinum spot instead of me.
"Mmm, thanks!"
In any case, Lee Se-jin beamed, seemingly in a better mood. Just then, another voice suddenly cut in.
"You can't dance?"
It was a Platinum-grade participant standing right at the very front and center. He had a blank expression and didn't seem to harbor any particular ill will.
The problem was that this guy was the one who took 1st place in the initial rankings. And as far as I knew, he was the final 1st place winner as well.
His name was Cha Yu-jin. He was famous enough that I had seen his face a few times on the TV in the restaurant back at the exam village.
But he was weirder than I expected. To ask something like that when the mics were on and the cameras were rolling?
I'm amazed he managed to take 1st place with a personality that just blurts things out like that.
Of course, looking at his status window and his performance in every evaluation, he was undeniably outstanding.
Still, there was a high probability that the broadcast editing had been favorable to him. I didn't want to get tangled up in something like this for no reason.
So, I gave a deliberate smirk.
"Didn't you see my evaluation?"
At that, he looked taken aback. Apparently, he was the type to be pricked by his conscience in situations like this.
"We had to prepare for our own stage. So I didn't watch it closely."
"Then watch it next time and judge for yourself."
"Understood."
Cha Yu-jin nodded and turned his gaze back to the front. Lee Se-jin laughed, looking baffled.
"Maybe it's because he's from abroad? His way of speaking is unique."
"I guess."
Lee Se-jin also seemed conscious of the cameras, as the conversation didn't go any further.
Instead, I looked at the staff off-stage. It seemed they were finally ready.
"Starting rehearsal!"
A staff member shouted. It looked like the setup was indeed finished.
I suppressed a sigh.
It was hard enough waiting around while hauling equipment on the streets, but I never thought I'd be the one doing the actual performing.
The time was currently 6:00 AM.
And the recording for the main stage was at 4:00 PM.
It looked like this was going to be a march of suffering.
And now, it was 8:00 PM.
The main filming had finally concluded.
"Great job, everyone!"
Just as I expected... it was nothing short of an ordeal.
"Ugh..."
"Ah... I'm dying."
Participants collapsed onto the floor one after another, groaning in pain. Everyone was drenched in sweat.
I wasn't in any better shape, but the participants who had collapsed first were taking up all the floor space, leaving nowhere to sit.
It was ridiculous.
'My stamina is completely shot.'
First, we spent the entire morning rehearsing until we were exhausted. Only after that did we get a short break for lunch.
Since they probably hadn't secured any PPL yet, the meal was just kimbap wrapped in aluminum foil.
After a quick bite, a swarm of stylists and related staff entered the filming site.
—Ugh, there’s seriously nowhere to put anything!
—Tilt your head this way!
—I’ll make this quick.
Even as they grumbled about the poor conditions in the open space used as a waiting area, they mechanically applied makeup and fixed the participants' hair.
To be honest, no one underwent a dramatic transformation, but we were at least made presentable for broadcast.
After that, we changed into the broadcast uniforms.
Around this time, a camera approached me.
—Do you like the outfit?
—...Yes.
Is there anyone here who would actually say no?
—What do you like about it?
—Well, since the design bridges the gap between a formal uniform and a school uniform, I think it'll allow for a variety of concepts.
It’s a shame I couldn't mention how creepy it felt to see 77 people wearing the exact same thing, like I’d been transported back to an all-boys high school.
As soon as I finished speaking, other participants nearby swarmed in.
—I like that I can match it with various accessories!
—Ah! I also love how well it goes with the badge!
Even if they only got a second or two of screen time, everyone was incredibly passionate.
And then, the main filming.
To be honest... I have no idea how they’ll edit this part.
—Going again!
—Ugh...
Dancing in a group in a place so hot it felt like we’d get heatstroke, I didn't have the mental capacity to worry about anything else.
I think I heard some praise, some criticism, and some moving motivational speeches intended to touch the audience, but it’s all a blur.
Honestly, my memory is hazy. I don't even know which of the thirty takes those production bastards will use.
I tried to clear my head as I listened to the PD.
"Everyone, you all worked very hard..."
The main PD, who had slunk in toward the end of the main stage, gave some empty platitudes before finally offering some useful information.
"...And this stage will air on next Friday's MusicBOMB. You'll start filming again the day after that. Rest well until then, but never forget that this is a massive opportunity for you. You have to seize it."
Anyone listening would think a participant could seize the opportunity just by working hard.
The participants responded enthusiastically to the words of the PD, who could tailor those opportunities however he pleased.
"Let's work hard, like our lives depend on it!"
"Yes!!"
"Then, I'll see you next week. Good job!"
"Thank you for your hard work!"
Everyone squeezed out their remaining strength to cheer and clap. I clapped along as well. My hands were shaking.
"..."
Until the MusicBOMB monitoring next week, I need to build up my stamina first.
A week passed in the blink of an eye.
My plan to build stamina was only half-successful. After the first filming ended, I suddenly came down with a fever and spent three days under the covers taking medicine.
It seemed Park Moon-dae’s body couldn't handle several weeks of intense labor.
Regardless, after shaking it off in three days, I aggressively increased my food intake. I was currently alternating between dance practice and strength training.
Since I was holding dumbbells even while watching MusicBOMB, I suppose you could say I was being quite diligent.
So, let's call it a half-success.
[Si-won, did you enjoy SoulWe's stage, returning with some exciting EDM?]
[Of course! Si-won was so excited, his heart feels totally refreshed~]
[Are you joking right now? Boo~]
[Boo~]
On the screen, a pair of idols were cheerfully hosting.
They looked like they were diligently reading the prompter, but they delivered the cringe-worthy script quite naturally.
It seemed they were making an effort despite their busy schedules.
[Si-won! Shall we introduce the next stage, which is no joke?]
[Yes. Have you heard the news, Yoon-ji?]
[What news?]
[The news our shareholders have been anxiously waiting for! It’s finally here—Idol Inc. has been re-listed!]
[Wooooo!]
It’s starting soon. I put down the dumbbells and picked up my smartphone to open the page I had already accessed.
It was a viewer reaction thread created by a major portal site, the best place to gauge general internet reactions.
Since it wasn't a comeback week for any major singers, the page was flooded with talk about Idol Inc.
[‘MusicBOMB’ talk talk!]
Mhm. The reactions were as chaotic as expected.
Every time I refreshed, a fresh batch of mockery poured in. It seemed like there were more people who had flocked here than actual MusicBOMB viewers.
To summarize the reactions: Season 3 was a stretch and was bound to fail. Because Season 2 had self-destructed so spectacularly, the series itself was firmly perceived as a failed program.
Sure enough, I saw mockery referencing Season 2.
This was the main reason Season 2 had self-destructed. They had accepted both male and female participants and ran it as a co-ed idol audition.
Even thinking back on it, it was a bizarre idea.
I wonder what the production crew was thinking.
If they had just followed the standard and made Season 2 a male version—no, even if they had just done another female version, it wouldn't have ended up like that.
And what exactly was "that"?
That’s right. A premarital pregnancy had happened...
In an industry where even dating is fatal, a premarital pregnancy.
And it happened between participants.
The bigger problem was that the two participants involved were the popular ones carrying Season 2.
The production crew seemed to think that since it was a co-ed group anyway, it would be better to use them for buzz and then quietly phase them out rather than immediate expulsion.
So they must have tried their hardest to edit the remaining footage of the two into something like a romance reality show.
But that wasn't the end of it.
The male participant in the pregnancy scandal was actually dating another female participant as well.
That female participant had intended to endure it for the sake of her career, but after seeing the "lovey-dovey" broadcast footage, she lost it and leaked their messenger history to the media.
After that... it was a disaster.
Real-time search terms, entertainment news pages, and social media were all completely wrecked.
Basically... all you need to remember is that Aju-sa Season 2 was canceled before it could even reach the finale.
And as long as such a massive scandal was still firmly etched in the viewers' minds, they wouldn't be able to escape the mockery in the early stages of the broadcast, no matter what they did.
I pushed aside my recollections and focused on the screen again.
In contrast to the chaotic comment section, the MusicBOMB MCs were still smiling brightly.
[Full of idol stocks waiting for our shareholders' investment!]
[Shine your star!]
And then came the famous catchphrase.
[Invest now in the idols who are about to take flight!]
At that moment, the comment speed suddenly tripled.
This was also an internet meme that had been popular for a while. It was often used when a participant who was expected to do well failed due to malicious editing.
Among these comments, which were being posted at a near-spamming level, a few laments passed by.
I chuckled.
"They're still watching, though."
They were watching just to hate on it.
It was hundreds of times better than indifference. This initial viewer base would definitely contribute to the early word-of-mouth. I already knew from experience that Season 3 would be a massive success.
In any case, it meant that most of these people would be crying while holding onto someone's "stock" by the time the finale rolled around (to use Aju-sa terminology).
But they wouldn't be like that from the first stage.
I was quite looking forward to seeing what other reactions would come out.
A few seconds after the MC finished speaking, the TV screen showed the stage.
Young-rin was standing on the stage. A pinpoint spotlight cast dramatic shadows on her sharply defined features.
Mhm, originally Idol Inc. had a humorous positioning with a B-movie style full of black comedy and memes, but after being mocked so much for becoming a meme itself, it seemed they were trying to change their image a bit.
Are they going for a solemn vibe?
[Shareholders! Do you remember the last delisting?]
"...?"
My prediction was shattered the moment Young-rin opened her mouth.
[We are truly sorry... for turning your stocks into scrap paper!!]
A massive caption appeared in front of Young-rin, who boasted a booming vocal projection.
[※ This content is an apology from the production crew. Young-rin is innocent. ※]
[※ We are still accepting claims for damages on our website. ※]
"..."
Are they out of their minds?