Chapter 12: The Trainee Who Refuses to Debut (3)
12. The Trainee Who Refuses to Debut (3)
Dan Ha-ru, the trainee in crisis, thought to himself:
'Life really is all about real-world experience.'
Though he'd realized this truth many times before, the current situation felt particularly complicated. He was holding back tears—knowing crying here would mean true defeat—but the headache pounding in his skull was undeniable.
'What do I do? This can't go on.'
His stress was reaching its limit. If he was going to be a shrimp crushed between fighting whales anyway, he might as well become shark bait—at least then it wouldn't feel so unfair.
"But do sharks even eat shrimp?"
Even in his furious state, this random question floated through Ha-ru's mind when he suddenly remembered Kang Ha-jin, the new trainee who'd joined recently. The connection made surprising logical sense.
ㅡIf you ever need to talk about something difficult, just ask me to go to the vending machine. I'll buy you a drink.
He was a strange guy. From their first meeting, Ha-jin had felt oddly approachable. Before Ha-ru knew it, he'd spilled everything—from his hobbies to his current training struggles. This was the rumored trainee who'd shaken up the entire company even before becoming an official trainee.
ㅡMiro's Zhuge Liang.
ㅡThey say he's close with U-PIA's Seo Tae-il.
ㅡTeam Leader Ji personally oversees him, right?
ㅡHis skills are insane—even Rene wanted him.
ㅡNo, I heard he's from some powerful family so they can't touch him.
Who knew how much of this was true? But one thing was clear: despite being new, Ha-jin's position in the company was better than expected.
As a newcomer, he had no ties to existing power dynamics, yet seemed capable of speaking up after hearing Ha-ru out.
Having calculated this far, Dan Ha-ru didn't hesitate to take the next step.
"......"
"......"
Which led to now. His bold declaration of "Let's get snacks from the vending machine!" had turned the practice room into a sea of laughter. A flustered Ha-jin then dragged Ha-ru and Eun-chan to an empty break room.
What followed was silence thicker than awkwardness.
[System Alert: Chilly.]
Shut up before you stab me in the heart with that knife.
Ha-jin shot a quick glare at the System, which had started chattering again while he was trying to read the room.
"Well... should we go if there's nothing to say?"
"Ah, I—that!"
"Yeah?"
"You—you said before to tell you if I had any problems!"
"Right. What's up?"
Finally mustering his first proper sentence, Ha-ru poured all his grievances into his small face as he appealed to Ha-jin.
"...The company keeps trying to debut us!"
'What kind of nonsense is this?'
The unexpected statement made Ha-jin briefly lose his bearings.
"That...uh↗."
He tried to sound calm, but his voice cracked. Damn, my dignity.
"Ahem. Companies...normally want to debut people? That's why we became trainees...to debut."
He attempted to sound detached, but his confusion bled through. Ah, teenagers these days. What kind of logic was this sparkly seventeen-year-old operating on?
"Well, yes, but—"
The fiery sparkle in Ha-ru's voice dimmed slightly. Joo Eun-chan, sitting beside them, watched with an inscrutable expression. Damn, this eighteen-year-old Miro prodigy wasn't simple either.
"There's a parachute trainee in the debut team the department head is pushing."
"Parachute?"
"They're trying to force Ha-ru and me into the debut team to cover for that parachute."
"Why you two?"
The story reeked of some messed-up scandal. Ha-jin unconsciously leaned forward as Eun-chan spoke in his characteristically calm, low voice.
"I'm a golden spoon."
"?"
What kind of bullshit was this?
Here's how it went down.
Miro's Department Head Son Hyung-gu, credited as a founding contributor for debuting U-PIA, had grown impatient after recent poor performance and missed promotions. This was also why he'd started frequenting drinking parties with "important people."
And apparently, one such VIP's son had recently developed an interest in becoming an idol.
"Everyone in the know is aware. The department head takes money to push certain trainees."
It was obvious some trainees were getting unfair opportunities. But in this dog-eat-dog world, weaker trainees couldn't voice complaints even if they knew.
And the department head's greed grew bolder by the day.
"Whether because of that parachute or something else, the special class changed to suit his tastes."
"Special class?"
"A-Class. They call it that, but it's basically the debut team management class."
This reminded Ha-jin of Team Leader Ji Soo-ho's explanation on his first day:
ㅡAll new trainees start in B-Class. Miro holds monthly evaluations and quarterly comprehensive evaluations—only trainees ranking in the top 7 move to A-Class for specialized training.
ㅡLike a debut team?
ㅡNot exactly...but they get more privileges and opportunities, and are prioritized when forming debut teams.
Back then, Ha-jin had thought they were being brutally strict with teenagers. But that was it—once you entered this world, you had to adapt. Just grit your teeth and make top 7.
Or so he'd thought.
"At first, it was just Seong-woo hyung getting pushed out. Since he wasn't securely ranked anyway, no one said much. Then one day, an A-Class trainee got called to the department head's office...and suddenly ranked 11th in the next evaluation. He usually placed 5th or 6th."
After that, trainees in the special class who didn't get along with the parachute were gradually removed—either demoted to regular trainee status or leaving the company voluntarily.
Then came an unexpected name.
"Min-seok hyung left the company too..."
"...Min-seok? Cha Min-seok from Rene?"
"You know Min-seok hyung?"
Ah. He hasn't debuted yet?
Ha-jin made up an excuse about hearing it from Rene's Manager Jang to the wide-eyed sparkly boy and Miro prodigy.
"Anyway, so."
"......"
"Why does the department head want to debut you two, and why do you refuse? Because the parachute is unfair?"
Frankly, they'd all be stuck together for seven-year contracts anyway. Closing one's eyes to morality, having someone with connections could be advantageous. If the parents could influence the department head, they might invest heavily in the group—a valuable shield in the cutthroat entertainment industry.
'Though if I were really 20, I'd be cursing this injustice.'
But Ha-jin was a 29-year-old regressor who'd lived through bitter reality four times over.
After a pause, Dan Ha-ru spoke.
"...First, I hate the department head."
"Very seventeen-year-old of you. Next."
"Even if we debut like this, we'd just be backup dancers for that parachute trainee."
"Capitalism sucks. Next."
"Honestly, I don't want to be under the department head's wing. That's how the W hyungs ended up disbanded."
Here, "W" referred to Project W—a four-member rock band that debuted solidly but crashed spectacularly after lip-sync scandals during their own concert. So that was the department head's doing.
"That's somewhat convincing. Next."
"Isn't that enough!?"
"We're talking about taking down a department head and a connected parachute—we need a decisive blow."
"But!"
"Honestly, once you debut, it's survival of the fittest. The public isn't stupid—they'll know who's talented."
"......"
"Refusing debut just because you don't like someone seems like a luxury complaint to me."
At Ha-jin's blunt words, the sparkly boy sulked and fell silent. He looked like a drenched baby rabbit, making Ha-jin's mouth go dry—but he wouldn't take back his words.
Some people train their whole lives without ever stepping foot in a broadcasting station.
In an industry where neither debut nor success is guaranteed, a mere trainee refusing debut might feel like mockery to those struggling.
'Which is why this isn't enough to act on.'
Ha-jin was the same. Having entered this path to stop his regressions, his quest was to form a "successful debut team"—not a "morally righteous" one.
If this parachute could contribute to that "success," Ha-jin had no reason to remove him.
"They're trying to pin the parachute image on me."
Joo Eun-chan, who'd been biting his lip sternly, finally spoke. Damn, his voice never got easier to listen to.
"I'm the rich kid."
"Lucky you. But you're B-Class, not A-Class."
"Exactly. For the U-PIA concert backup dancers, I was the only B-Class trainee chosen. By the department head's orders. Some A-Class hyungs didn't make it."
Oh?
"He's threatening us because he knows Ha-ru and I are close. Either take the parachute reputation or re-sign contracts and debut. I know you can't help us, hyung. But this situation is just—!"
What?
"Hold up. Re-sign what contracts?"
"To debut...we'd have to sign new contracts..."
"Why would you re-sign contracts? You already signed trainee contracts when joining Miro."
Both boys' eyes widened simultaneously. See?
"So 'refusing debut' meant refusing to sign new contracts? And you're refusing now?"
"...Yes."
Beep beep.
A radar blared in Ha-jin's head. He didn't need a "bomb detection" skill to recognize this instinctively.
'It's a bomb.'
Got you, you bastard.
'The department head's trying to line his pockets.'
Trainee poaching. Not uncommon in the small entertainment industry. Those frequent drinking parties were likely meetings with potential investors for his own company.
"Ha, now that changes everything."
"...Can you help us?"
Eun-chan asked cautiously, still half-doubting.
What Ha-jin had mistaken for calmness now looked different. This wasn't composure—it was the face of someone already tired of the world. The resignation of an 18-year-old forced to endure injustice, tasting helplessness for the first time.
And in that moment, a shadow of Ha-jin's past self flickered across that face. Without further hesitation, Ha-jin spoke.
"Approved."
"......!!"
Now. How should we handle this?