Level Up (8) - Jelly Nyang's Comeback Clash
I thought that chapter was behind us, but apparently not.
Next Enter, Jelly Nyang's agency, was a major player just like Honey Enter.
"Why didn't we catch this?"
"Ha, sorry."
"Promo has already started, so pushing back our schedule isn't feasible."
It wasn't just any group—Jelly Nyang was making a comeback. The music scene would erupt, and companies planning comebacks would play it safe by delaying. We should have done the same.
"I never expected them to pull such a cheap shot. We got played."
"Even if they're pissed, messing with Jelly Nyang like that? Didn't they not renew?"
"They must've built enough trust to use it. Jelly Nyang's got that fierce loyalty anyway."
Normally, agencies shared schedules before comebacks to avoid overlaps—it was basic courtesy. Clashing just meant eating your own losses. With mid- and small-tier agencies popping up like weeds, the big players stuck together, sharing intel to carve out wins.
But Next had stabbed us in the back. They'd hidden Jelly Nyang's comeback date perfectly.
"August 2nd—that's gotta be aimed right at us."
"And it's not a single, it's a full album."
"They're trying to bury us completely."
"But does it even make sense? Can a girl group outshine a boy group? Boy idols always dominate popularity."
"It's Jelly Nyang. They're not your average girl group. Their individual fanbases are insane—on another level."
"That's not the only issue. We were gonna push the kids' skills hard this time. Now Jelly Nyang's right there as the perfect comparison. Think that'll fly?"
"No way. Even a whiff of 'skill' and Jelly Nyang fans will roast us."
The whole promo plan was in ruins. But we couldn't scrap everything now—preparations were done, and canceling would've cost a fortune anyway.
"Let's map best- and worst-case scenarios."
"Best case: We take some heat but push ahead, prove the kids' skills, and win recognition."
"Worst case?"
"We launch promo, get shredded in comparisons to Jelly Nyang, kids' morale tanks, they bomb the performances, and we halt activities?"
"Jelly Nyang's fandom might come at us too."
"Whoa, but their fans are mostly girls. Girls trash-talking our boys? After seeing their faces?"
No one could deny Airplane's members were too handsome to hate on looks alone.
"Plenty of fans with unique tastes these days. Men are so scarce."
"Anyway, our stance is clear: Stay friendly with Jelly Nyang, no matter what."
"Push the friendly angle instead of rivalry."
"For starters, slot Haesol or Jun into Jelly Nyang's appearances. Girls like them would wanna bond, right?"
We members sat there like dummies, ears perked, not daring to butt into the staff meeting. They'd dragged us in thinking it was huge, and here we were.
The guys looked clueless, but my office experience let me piece it together quick. Seeing Ki Uyeon blinking like a fish and the others, I sighed and decided to explain.
"Know why the staff's meeting?"
"'Cause Jelly Nyang sunbaenims are coming back?"
"You get the gist. Them stealing the spotlight's bad enough, but the real issue is they might pick a fight. Next not sharing the date? That's them trying to crush us."
"...Why us? We didn't do anything."
There had to be backstory. And like he read my mind, Kyungtae hyung chimed in.
"Heard Next's debuting a rookie group too."
"No way—they're doing this over that??"
"We blew up post-debut. Makes sense now. They've got motive to kneecap us."
Smear our activities via Jelly Nyang, debut their new group in the chaos. That had to be Next's play.
"Whoa, that's scary."
"Fight fair with agitation and fake news? Something like that?"
"We can't just take this. We're a major agency—gotta do something."
"That's why they're meeting now."
"What do we do? Sitting idle sucks."
"Quiet down, everyone!"
The guys' chatter grew loud enough that the whole staff meeting paused to listen. I calmed the hyped-up crew and spoke.
"What we gotta do? Why ask something so obvious? Do exactly what the team says. They want a killer stage? We grind till we nail it. Variety shoot? We go all-out like it's our last day. That's it."
"......"
"......"
Silence blanketed the room. Everyone mulled it over.
Then the section chief broke it.
"Haesol's right. That's your job. No matter how hard we hustle, it's worthless if you slack. If you grind like he says, we'll handle the rest. Time to show why we exist—and why we're a powerhouse."
I nodded—same page. The chief scanned our nodding faces and the staff before continuing.
"If we push a 'skill group' image via press, they'll shove Jelly Nyang in our face for comparisons. Downplaying your talent. But what if you crush the stage?"
"We'd have proof to counter the comparisons."
He nodded, pleased with my answer.
"Exactly. And this isn't all bad. Noise marketing exists for a reason. It's a shot to showcase your skills loud and clear."
Us grinding to prove talent? Solid, but risky. Getting dragged into Jelly Nyang comparisons—even with backlash—would hit way harder.
"We become the skill powerhouse boy group that stacks up to Jelly Nyang."
"Uh, we're not that good yet."
"You're grinding hard. Post-debut success could've made you slack, but you're living in the practice room. Skills are skyrocketing."
"That's 'cause Haesol hyung's a freak talent—we're panicking."
"Doesn't matter why. You're prepping diligently. No need to downplay—you deserve props."
Honestly, six young, virile guys? I'd bet at least one would gripe about practice grind. But not a peep. Impressive.
This world was paradise for men—women fell into your lap easy. Yet these guys blocked it all, sweating for their dream.
Good kids.
Pride swelled; I ruffled their heads. Never thought I'd pet guys like this, but after so long, they felt like nephews—no weird vibes.
"You got this."
"Yeah!! We'll grind!! Team fighting too!!"
The gloomy vibe lifted. Worried staff perked up too, meeting buzzing brighter. The guys' fist-pumps must've been adorable.
"Kids that fired up? We can't look dumb. Right?"
"Yes!!!"
"Time to throw down!!"
Staff nostrils flared, morale maxed.
Full steam ahead.
Whatever lay ahead, we'd grind harder—that was clear.
Jelly Nyang dropped their comeback.
Exactly a week before us—August 2nd.
We checked their new track anxiously and could only sigh.
"Song's killer."
"Hate to admit it, but yeah."
"MV's top-tier too."
"We ain't slouches!! Don't chicken out!!"
"Says the one shaking. Idiot."
"Am not!!"
"Are too?"
Nam Eungyu and Kang Jun bickered; Ki Uyeon grinned at the bop. Kang Kyungtae sulked, digging a grave over getting buried. Jeki looped it, dissecting the track.
Everyone reacted their way—bracing to face the absurd final boss by accident.
Even so, siccing the endgame boss on noobs like us? Overkill.
Good news: Company wasn't sitting idle. Higher-ups saw it as Next vs. Honey war, ordering aggressive push.
Push meant cash!
'With money, anything's possible!!' Combat power inflated.
Anyway. Sure enough, charts shifted fast. Jelly Nyang tracks flooded the top 10.
1 through 4: theirs. 7 and 8 too.
"Damn... jealous."
"Snatched #1 instantly. Were we wrong from the start? Can't even compete."
Even if we dropped, top 100? Iffy. Debut buzz was huge, but maybe we'd gotten cocky.
"This is fact-checking violence."
I agreed this time. Jelly Nyang's momentum was unreal.
Debut was a cakewalk maybe.
Sheltered in the company greenhouse, now hitting wild soil.
Harsh sun, wet winds, rough dirt—we had to adapt to survive long-term.
Company no longer babied us. To thrive wild, teach hunting, not hand-feed.
Time for us to clash with reality.