The PD's Desperate Call
Yoon Dong-wook stared at the viewer bulletin board. With every refresh, posts were piling up, pages flying by one or two at a time. It wasn't just the board—the entire internet was ablaze with talk of his audition show, Invasion from Seoul 2024. For Yoon Dong-wook personally, this was great news. For a man who believed ratings were god incarnate, at least.
But for Yoon Dong-wook, the PD at Mtown who was getting heat not just from Director Park but from the other execs too, it was anything but good.
"Hey! I heard those girls were into school violence or some shit! You know what I'm talking about, right? If they win, we're all fucked. You know how Clear's President Im gets!"
The words were crude, half-threat, half-plea, but Director Park's face had been pure desperation. Dong-wook figured President Im was exactly the type to make good on it. The guy had a nasty reputation swirling around him anyway.
What'll happen with this mess? Honestly, no clue. Can't see ahead at all.
The situation had long slipped from Dong-wook's control. The competition mattered, sure, but at this point, the winner would be decided not by performance, but by whether they'd committed school violence or not.
If they had, WEKIDS would sweep the votes. If not, Group Sound would win on sympathy alone.
But what if the truth stayed murky right up to the finale? What if they had to start the performances and pick a winner anyway...?
Dong-wook, chin propped on his hand, felt a dizzying vertigo at the thought. If it came to that?
Screw Park PD, screw Clear Sky—first, let's game out the scenarios, he thought.
WEKIDS wins, exposé true → No big deal. People cheer "justice served."
WEKIDS wins, exposé false → No big deal. People chalk it up to tough luck.
Group Sound wins, exposé false → People say "good call." Nothing happens.
Group Sound wins, exposé true → ...
Dong-wook stopped there. What came next was all too obvious.
The backlash would be nuclear—way beyond brushing off as "whatever."
"No choice."
"Huh?"
Dong-wook shot up from his chair. Choi PD and a few staffers eyed him curiously, but he met their gazes with steely resolve.
"From now on, not a word of this leaks outside. We'd be done for. Phones—all on this desk. No recordings."
Their eyes wavered. Dong-wook watched stone-faced as they placed their phones one by one on his desk.
"Next round? WEKIDS wins. No question."
"How?"
"We rig it. Don't gawk like that. This is huge—if those girls take it, I'm gone, and so are you. Not just hate, we're talking jobs. Director Park and President Im at Clear are in this too. This ain't a joke."
Dong-wook laid it out seriously: their predicament, what they had to do, the consequences waiting.
"Even if the girls win, our jobs aren't guaranteed gone. But you wanna bet everything on that? I can't. And you know riding Director Park's line means fast promotions. He got me back on this gig."
"Even so..."
"Even so? You wanna fucking say that now?!"
Dong-wook's vein throbbed; he hurled whatever was in reach. The staffer flinched.
"Listen up! No choices left. Rig or get fired and blacklisted! I'll cover you guys—don't worry. I don't abandon my people!"
Calming down, he apologized to the staff and spoke again. Fist slamming the desk, their faces hardened with determination.
But one pair of eyes flickered differently.
"How's it looking?"
"No idea."
Woojin, ex-leader of Ullim Stones, eyed the woman flopping into a chair. Seong Ju-hee, was it? They'd tracked her down, pitched her as the perfect shot to bury Group Sound and Ha Suyeon, and she'd jumped right in.
But the more it dragged, the more Woojin felt things slipping off-script. Out of his control, anyway.
"She won't talk. I tried notes like you said."
"You mentioned the money, right?"
"Of course. I aimed high, figuring why not... but she turned it down. No clue what she's thinking."
Woojin bit his nails anxiously. The plan had kicked off on pure spite toward Group Sound and Ha Suyeon—reason long forgotten.
Started solid: Snag Ju-hee, dig up dirt from communities and rumors, her story as ammo. Recruited Muzaku's Jeong Jae-hoon to screw Yoon Dong-wook PD and hit Group Sound too.
Exposé drops... and boom, perfect chaos. Everyone—young, old, men, women—trashing Group Sound. Voluntary dropout and public flogging seemed imminent. Felt great.
So why were they still standing? Why the counter-posts so quick? Why were the haters now split, debating?
What went wrong?
Ju-hee eyed his fretting with pity. She'd teamed up to screw Ha Suyeon, but this guy's incompetence was glaring.
Should've just shaken her down instead. Probably could've gotten ten, twenty mil off her with an IOU.
She'd have shut up for ten mil. Not dog chow—five months' wages from part-time gigs. Sure, might spill later once spent, but whatever.
Ju-hee sighed deeply. Too late now. Exposé was out; her "victims'" testimonies flipped.
Didn't erase Ha Suyeon's "bullying," but witch hunt had turned debate hall long ago. Not her script.
No help for it. Time for plan B.
She thought of a junior. Her "bullying" story—not real bullying, just getting beat by Suyeon after shaking down kids for cash. Key witness she'd twisted arm for.
Her word could pin Suyeon as stone-cold bully. Ex-friends stayed silent by pact; juniors muzzled by threats.
If this blows up right, we flip it. Stamp her as middle-school boozer, smoker, beating seniors years older. Done. Past stuff irrelevant.
"I'll call that girl I mentioned. Buys time, flips opinion, gathers more testimonies. You can earn your keep—stir comments, manipulate sentiment."
Woojin had no choice but to nod at her scornful glare. Fine by him—as long as Ha Suyeon got wrecked.
The why had vanished ages ago.
He was your average entertainment reporter. "Average" meaning he coasted on tips and web surfing, no real digging.
This scandal had been a goldmine. Surf communities endlessly, repackage Ha Suyeon and Group Sound reactions as "[Online Community Reacts...]" or "[Netizens Say...]"—views exploded.
Now, a jackpot: Group Sound witness requesting interview. From the "bullying real" camp. With sentiment tilting "not bullying," a pro-bullying scoop? Perfect.
Rake views now, firestorm later—double dip. He floored it to a Seoul cafe, a tad late for the 30-min meet.
"Hi, nice to meet you."
He offered a handshake. The high-school girl type eyed it, slurped her coffee instead.
Too good for it? Awkward, he withdrew.
"You're the one who requested the interview?"
"Yeah."
Classic high schooler vibe: tall, skirt that short, cropped uniform, ponytail with white ribbon. Pale makeup, bold red lips—strikingly alluring.
She regarded him with... interest? Apathy? Hard to read.
Interview or not? He wondered.
"Got a tip you'd testify on Ha Suyeon's school violence. That right?"
"Not quite."
"Pardon?"
He doubted his ears. Why drag him here otherwise? As his face twisted, she slurped more coffee.
"Someone asked me to exaggerate and twist an incident Ha Suyeon did into testimony. That's what I wanna talk about."
"...Come again?"
Unbelievable if true—bombshell material. Voice shaky, he pressed.
"This real? You'll swear to it? Not paid off by Ha Suyeon's side for perjury?"
"Yep. Use my name too."
"...Which is?"
Watching the reporter, she mused: All my fault for picking such a needy friend. Suyeon better appreciate this.
"Kwon Ji-hye."
… Kwon Ji-hye testified.
The reporter had to ask: What changed with Ha Suyeon there?
“What happened?”
The reporter's intel from Kwon Ji-hye clashed hard with the original tipster's tale. Tipster said friendly drinks turned to random beef and slap. But Ji-hye detailed it vividly.
Per her: Tipster "S" was the real bully, extorting juniors. Ha Suyeon's slap? Righteous fury at shakedown.
Yet "S" held grudge, orchestrated this whole mess.
How to take this? Were prior stories even true?
…
"It's over."
Myeongjeon muttered, closing his laptop after the article. Community fallout? Obvious.
Knock from behind.
"Come in."
Myeongjeon turned, victory smile ready.
But "Mom's" face was the opposite—fury.
"Suyeon, you...! What the hell have you been up to?! Drinking and smoking in 8th grade?! You trying to kill me?!"
"No, wait, it's not—"
Myeongjeon trailed off with a wry smile. Better this noisy scolding than her gloom, even if she believed it'd blow over.
"You keep smiling? Can't you see I'm pissed?!"
"Sorry..."