The Foreign World of Idols
“What? Pork ribs are tastier?”
“Yes!”
“Do you have any idea how much this costs?”
“No!”
Choi Yeon-mi let out a deep, exasperated sigh.
“I told you we should have just gone for pork ribs. Why bring a kid to an omakase place... Tsk.”
Hyeong-man shook his head slowly.
“Not ‘Auntie’. Mom.”
“...”
“Whew. You don't know who I am, do you?”
“I do!”
“That is not the look of someone who knows.”
“I've seen your face!”
“Where? On TV?”
Chul-jun blinked his round eyes before opening his mouth.
“In Dad's wallet!”
Choi Yeon-mi's eyes widened.
“...Really?”
“Yes!”
“...Did he introduce me? What did he say I was?”
Chul-jun smiled brightly.
“He said when we came to Korea, if worst came to worst, we might have to live with you...”
“...If worst... came to worst? What? Worst?”
Choi Yeon-mi's face crumpled instantly.
For the first time since coming to Korea, Chul-jun felt a sense of dread from an adult.
“Do you know the movie The Bodyguard?”
“No!”
“Whitney Houston... Well, anyway, let's talk after you watch that movie. About what kind of relationship your dad and I had.”
“...”
“Huh? Look at that face. I told you, just call me Mom.”
“...”
“Why is this kid so stubborn?”
“Haha. Stop it, already.”
“Then let's see... Ah, I hate 'Aunt' or 'Great Aunt'.”
“Just call her 'Aunt'.”
“No! I want to be 'Big Aunt'!”
“Haha... Your maturity level matches an elementary schooler...”
“Say it. 'Big Aunt'.”
“...”
“You don't like this either? Oh, seriously!”
Their first meeting.
The conversation hadn't exactly flowed smoothly.
“He's fast asleep.”
Sitting in the passenger seat, Choi Yeon-mi glanced at the back seat and chuckled.
He had a smile on his face, as if dreaming a sweet dream.
“He's smiling. I guess he doesn't have nightmares lately?”
Hyeong-man, holding the steering wheel, shook his head slightly.
“Hard to say yet. But at least for the past few days, he hasn't cried in his sleep. I guess he likes school.”
“That's a relief. But why did he pass out the moment he got in the car? We barely got to talk.”
“He's a kid who goes to bed at exactly ten. He's been dragged around until eleven, so of course he's exhausted. I told you we should have met early tomorrow.”
“I wanted to see him right away, what could I do? Whew, sleep is out of the question for me anyway because of the jet lag. Oppa, should we open a bottle of Macallan?”
Hyeong-man's Adam's apple bobbed.
“Oh, right. I also brought back a bottle of Dalmore 25-Year this time.”
“...”
“Want to stop by my car first?”
“Deal!”
“Seriously, Oppa! Was Jae-gang out of his mind? Showing his kid a photo of his ex-girlfriend?”
“Haha...”
“The kid's mother must be wailing from heaven. Honestly...”
“...”
“But seeing him in person, he really doesn't look like him. The kid is so beautiful. Just how gorgeous was the woman he met after dumping me...”
“Well, timeline-wise, he met the kid's mother before he met you. Can't you even do basic math?”
“Same difference!”
“Sigh...”
Hyeong-man let out a deep sigh.
She was gulping down that strong liquor and was already quite drunk.
He understood. It was a day worthy of getting drunk.
“Anyway, he sure had high standards to meet such a beautiful woman. How does a face like his produce such a pretty child? The mother's genetics must have been incredible. The dad looked like a total gorilla... though he was incredibly charming...”
“...”
“Did you do a paternity test? Looking at him, I find it hard to believe.”
Hyeong-man took a sip of whisky and shook his head.
“The Chinese police handled the accident, so we couldn't even recover a single strand of hair. Since he was a top-tier black agent, the NIS didn't have his DNA profile on file either. But Jae-gang must have done a paternity test in China when he first met the boy. I verified the records sent over from the consulate.”
Choi Yeon-mi stared blankly at her whisky glass.
Her brow furrowed deeper, and her eyes grew moist.
“...Is it really that grand? Patriotism?”
“Well... I don't know. Thinking about it now, I wonder if it was really worth all that, but back then, there was nothing more important...”
“I mean, a perfect woman like me was waiting for him in Korea! You heard him too, Oppa, at my mother's funeral. He said he didn't have anyone! But he went and had a kid in the meantime?”
“No, the kid was conceived before that. They just met around that time.”
“Same difference!”
“Whew...”
Hyeong-man let out a heavy sigh.
“Anyway! I'm raising him from now on!”
“Don't talk nonsense. You're drunk, just go home.”
“I want to raise him!”
“Someone as busy as you? Can you throw away everything you're doing right now? You barely go home once a week... Tsk.”
Pouting, Choi Yeon-mi turned her head.
She saw the slightly ajar bedroom door.
“Passcode.”
“What?”
“The passcode, so I can come see the kid.”
“Ha...”
“Give me the passcode!”
“You can just call when you want to come...”
“No! This house is mine now! Sell it to me! How much do you want?”
“Sigh...”
“My baby is here! So it's mine!”
Hyeong-man quickly pulled out his phone and searched for a contact.
“Hey, Chief Tak. Long time no see... Yeah, I'm good. Uh, could you come pick up your director? Yeah, she's drunk. Very. Yeah, the tantrums are starting. Right. Sorry to trouble you so late... Yeah, you know the address? Okay. See you in a bit.”
Just then, Choi Yeon-mi sprang up from her chair and marched toward Chul-jun's room. Before Hyeong-man could stop her, she flung the door open and stepped inside.
“Good grief... Seriously...”
Hyeong-man followed but stopped just before crossing the threshold.
Yeon-mi was kneeling, her face buried in the bed, gently caressing Chul-jun's tiny fingers.
“...How did such a beautiful child end up here?”
Her voice was thick with emotion.
“That gorilla of a man...”
Hyeong-man sniffled.
He had thought it was just a passing romance born of curiosity, but to think she would still be this heartbroken even as she approached fifty.
Having watched their story unfold over the years, Hyeong-man understood her actions completely.
She probably felt like he was her own child, yet felt a sense of resentment at the same time.
“Hey. You'll wake the kid. Stop that and...”
“...*Snore*.”
“Huh... Are you asleep? ...Asleep?”
“...*Snooooore*.”
“Haha...”
Hyeong-man shook his head.
“Chul-jun! Uncle has some business to take care of.”
“Okay!”
“Don't open the door for strangers, no matter what!”
“Yes! Have a safe trip!”
After Uncle Hyeong-man left, Chul-jun sat in front of the computer.
"Listen closely. Helping a lady in distress is a highly meaningful thing for a man to do. And it's always good to know a lot of pretty women. Just having beautiful women around you makes you a highly attractive man. That strategy actually made your dad incredibly popular back in the day. I even dated women other guys couldn't even dream of. You might not understand it well right now, but when you grow up, it's a strategy that will definitely be of great help. Keep that in mind."
Whoa, was he actually telling the truth?
He had only half-believed his father's words, half-pretending to believe them, but after meeting that beautiful auntie yesterday, it seemed his father hadn't been lying.
In any case, the reason that conversation suddenly came to mind was because of Arin, who had become a common intersection in his life.
On the first day, when he was trying to approach Si-woo, who was sitting apart, Arin had been the one sitting alone among the three girls.
Yet, even after several days, she was still always alone.
Furthermore, observing her closely, she seemed extremely anxious.
She would fidget with her fingers, rub her hands together, bite her nails, or chew on her fingertips, her eyes darting around nervously.
Those behaviors raised a massive question mark in his mind.
They said she was some kind of trainee...
He had overheard the girls talking in the hallway, but it was a completely foreign world to Chul-jun.
He had already made a mistake once when he first approached Si-woo.
He had meddled hastily without any information about the other person, talking too much and offending Si-woo.
What he didn't know, he had to learn.
Pine Ent, Cherry Pangpang, PGM, Idol.
Chul-jun recalled the terms he had heard and began tapping on the keyboard.
He needed to understand it clearly so that if something happened next time, he could approach it logically.
First, he addressed the question marks one by one.
What exactly is an idol?
It was different from the general concept of a "singer" that Chul-jun knew.
Chul-jun began a multi-layered analysis of what a Korean idol actually was and how the system operated.
After a few hours, he had a rough outline.
Discarding useless information and filtering only the essential, cross-verified facts, he processed it in his own way.
An idol was a singer, but they were fundamentally different from typical singers.
While a typical singer made and sold music, the idol business model sold the music but also the person themselves.
Appearance, personality, relationships, and daily life—everything became a product.
As Chul-jun understood it, for a singer, the product was the music. For an idol, the product was the human being.
The agency's role was also incredibly crucial.
If the agency drew up a blueprint, the trainees were carved and molded to fit that design.
That was why the trainee system existed.
Even a brief search revealed a suffocating system.
Constant evaluations and competition.
The criteria for elimination weren't limited to skill.
Appearance, age, compatibility with the group concept the agency was currently planning, and even luck—every single one was a variable.
From Chul-jun's perspective, there were far too many variables to calculate.
“...”
Chul-jun's brow furrowed.
With Si-woo, he had the common language of Baduk.
But with Arin, he had no common language yet.
If he hastily intervened just to resolve his question marks, he might make another mistake.
He decided to listen to some of their songs first.
There are so many songs...
One corner of Chul-jun's mouth curled upward.
It was a field he was encountering for the very first time.
So for some reason, it felt exciting.
First, the most popular idol...
K-Max?
Under PGM Entertainment.
Was that the place where they said that girl, Ha-eun, was a trainee?
He visited the company's website.
...Huh?
On the main page of the website, a photo of the auntie he had met yesterday was prominently displayed.
“Welcome back, Director. You've worked hard.”
Do Hee-won, the head of the planning team, bowed politely. Director Choi Yeon-mi, her eyes hazy from a hangover, stared blankly through the window of the practice room.
In Practice Room C, reserved for trainees under fourteen, kids of similar sizes were diligently practicing choreography.
She spotted a few unfamiliar faces.
“We have a few more kids?”
“Yes. Since you went abroad, Director, we brought in two more from open auditions and three through social media casting.”
“How old are they?”
“Two thirteen-year-olds, two twelve-year-olds, and one eleven-year-old.”
Choi Yeon-mi checked the new faces one by one, matching their appearances with their ages.
Suddenly, she thought of Chul-jun.
Why is he so small? Is that man feeding him nothing but instant food? I need to visit often and feed him healthy meals.
Thinking of Chul-jun made the children in the practice room look a bit different to her.
She always tried her best not to get emotional at work...
Because emotion clouded judgment.
But today, perhaps because she hadn't fully sobered up, she felt a bit sentimental.
Sometimes, Choi Yeon-mi would scrub her hands so hard they turned red.
Tailoring someone's dream with her own hands was both a blessing and a curse.
For the sake of a more profitable, better-selling product, she had to trample on the precious dreams of products that were relatively less lucrative.
It was a life where she might be a savior to some, but a demon to others.
That was why she scrubbed her hands so fiercely, trying to wash away something that could never be washed clean.
Choi Yeon-mi scrunched her nose, shaking off the stray thoughts that were beginning to spiral.
If she let them linger, they would go on forever, and she'd end up craving a hangover drink.
“Send only the new kids up.”
“Yes, Director!”
“By the way, do I smell strongly of alcohol?”
“Not enough to worry about.”
“Okay.”