Chapter 1
Chapter 1
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: How a Prodigy Idol Conquers Showbiz
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"I'm sorry. I can't do it."
The moment I said that, sharp glares from all directions flew at me like knives ready to stab me to death.
My head was spinning and aching from the overpowering alcohol stench, but it was easy to see that not only the president who'd spoken up, but even my fellow debut group members were silently resenting me.
The agency president sitting right next to me grabbed my shoulder, forcing a smile as if giving me one last chance.
"You can't do it?"
"Yes. I can't."
To prove my words, I shook off his hand and stood up. Their bloodshot eyes followed my every move.
"Think this through carefully."
"What's there to think about?"
"Just bend your pride this once, and from then on, you can live life on your terms. That's how society works—you do things you don't want to. I told you before, right? Think of the company as family. Can't you do this for family? Ha-je-ya, if you walk out like this, you'll never make it in this industry again. You said you wanted to be a singer."
Why not pick one—threats or persuasion?
I sneered coldly as the drunken president rambled on.
"Yeah, sure. I wanted to. But not enough to sell my body for it."
At my blunt words, the face of the woman at the head table—the unnamed female executive—changed ever so slightly.
The leader hyung, who'd been watching her expression, rushed over to me and pleaded desperately.
"You know I've been a trainee for 10 years. Please. Ha-je-ya, if I miss this chance, I won't debut. Just bow your head this once."
"You think bowing will fix this? Get a grip, hyung."
"You... You've always been this selfish? If you got into the debut lineup on your looks, you should at least think of your brothers who've been killing themselves in your place."
My face faintly reflected in the liquor bottle in front of me. Even in that blurry image, I could tell just how ridiculously handsome I was.
What's the point of being this good-looking?
Seeing the leader hyung's face, twisted in what was surely his most righteous expression, left me momentarily speechless.
Hard to live pathetically like me with a face like that.
But self-reproach didn't last long.
Righteous anger toward the company that exploited naive underage trainees burned stronger.
"Fine. I got in because I'm handsome. They say looks are talent in this industry. No matter how many times I said I couldn't dance and wanted to learn something—anything—they just made me drill the same shoddy basics for a hundred days. That's on the company. You know that, hyung, so don't say crap like that."
The more I thought about it, the more absurd it seemed.
"Who's calling who selfish? I must've been blind to think trash like you was a good hyung. Jealous of the sponsorship? Do it yourself."
My head felt ice-cold, like I'd been doused with freezing water.
Words sharp and vicious that I'd never dared say before flowed out effortlessly in this cornered situation.
That's why life is all about real combat.
The sensation of my lifelong blocked throat finally opening was refreshing, but escaping before things escalated further came first.
I grabbed my jacket I'd taken off and put it on, then nodded curtly.
"If there's nothing else, I'll be going."
"On Ha-je! Stop right there!"
"Seriously."
I paused with the door half-open and turned around. His facial muscles slackened, as if he'd change his mind right then.
His shallow reaction only made me laugh.
"This is sincere advice out of brotherhood from our time together: If you're all gonna be idols, manage your looks. Especially you, hyung—you look like chewed-up squid spewed out, and with that massive inferiority complex, I'm worried you'll crumble from hate comments."
"What...?"
"At least you didn't pretend to be good guys till the end. Thanks for that. You're all top-tier trash, so I won't feel guilty for ruining everything by walking out."
You bastards.
"President, everything you touch turns to failure. You too, ma'am. Oh, don't worry—no one else will know about this. The executive sitting there seems way out of our president's league, so no need to fear getting stabbed for blabbing."
I ignored the president's roar to grab that crazy bastard and the (former) teammate's begging if there wasn't another way, striding quickly out of the high-end bar.
Only when I'd gone quite a distance from the VIP bar did I think I'd made it, and my legs suddenly gave out, buckling weakly.
4:30 AM.
No one around.
I crouched down comfortably right there.
"Thought I was gonna shake to death..."
Cutting ties in the worst way imaginable with people I'd thought I got along okay with wasn't exactly pleasant.
...Not that we got along okay.
Looking back, there'd been countless moments during trainee life at the company that screamed "this ain't right."
Words disguised as concern that chipped away at my self-esteem? Over a hundred I could list.
I'd just ignored them.
Wanting to believe even those people cared about me.
What could I do about it now? Water under the bridge.
At least I'd snapped out of it before signing the contract.
As the president said, I'd never set foot in entertainment again.
Whatever.
I never want to see that filthy world again.
If this happened before even debuting, how much dirtier would it get as an actual celebrity?
"That guy's face back there was hilarious, though..."
Did he think I'd stay a naive pushover till the end?
Five years passed since that day.
The high school I attended? I'd dropped out along with the other student-status debut trainees, swayed by the old company's coaxing that it was better to debut and focus on idol activities.
No huge regrets over that rash choice—getting a diploma wouldn't drastically change my life anyway.
Having given up on my one and only dream and goal in a life of letting things slide however...
I was living great.
Blasting AC in summer, cozy boiler in winter, in a comfy room—devouring three square meals from the housekeeper auntie, glued to games, occasionally uploading videos to You×Tube. Crushing the unemployed daily grind like a pro.
Hardships? Besides mandatory military service right at 20, nothing came to mind.
Don't even get me started on that place.
Even now, I don't point my feet toward the military base direction or my old agency— but the day I "happened" to hear the boy group that debuted from there tanked hard, I cracked open my parents' prized liquor.
Anyway, rich parents are as good as none—they left me to my own devices no matter what. Games showed no signs of getting old, so my life would stay like this forever.
...That's what I thought.
Until my dream reappeared before my eyes in a way I never imagined.