A Reporter’s Promise
She turned her head and looked at the nurses.
They were chatting as if unaware, their voices buzzing with excitement.
“He was handsome in the ad, but the real thing is a hundred times better.”
“Born to be on camera, you know. People with that kind of three-dimensional look never fit on a screen.”
“So which ward is this young hunk supposed to be in?”
“503. That’s where Miss Park Sukja’s guardian is.”
“503?”
Song Mira twisted her head and glanced in the direction the nurses had pointed.
It was the opposite side of the hospital from her father’s room.
“Wait a second… that guy in the YouTube ad. It has to be Namhun.”
She had spent the whole day at her desk digging through the news.
She couldn’t have missed the YouTube insertion ad for Bellik Coffee that had been blowing up every community lately.
“Forever just for you…” A nostalgic song.
“Is this guy a man or a woman?”
“Totally hot.”
Still, because almost nothing was known about him, the story never exploded into anything bigger.
Even the fact that he was the same person as Elixir never spread online.
At twenty-six, she had known about the number-one singer from her school days, but she had never imagined he was Elixir.
Something stirred deep inside her chest.
A story about a community celebrity saving a life sat in a completely different league from a simple exclusive interview.
It came with clicks she could bank on and the positive buzz she wanted.
Song Mira headed for room 503 instead of her father’s ward.
Sitting on the guardian’s bed in the next room, Namhun was monitoring Jin Seryeon’s stage.
It was exactly the face from the YouTube ad.
She drew a long breath and thought, “This one I can’t let slip away.”
Everyone gets three chances in a lifetime, or so they say.
She felt this was her chance.
In her head she was already sketching the article.
“Start with the nurse interview.”
She turned and walked toward the nurses.
“Excuse me… I happened to overhear you talking and—”
She pulled out the business card she had tucked in her wallet and held it up.
“Oh, a reporter?”
Star Frame was a tiny company in the grand scheme of the press, but among entertainment outlets it carried real name recognition.
The nurses’ wariness melted instantly.
“Yes. The story sounded too interesting to pass up. Could I hear more details?”
* * *
After the nurse interview, Song Mira waited for Namhun to finish his rounds before heading to Park Sukja.
She used the fact that her father was in the same ward to keep her guard low.
Park Sukja, already overflowing with gratitude toward Namhun, gladly agreed to the interview the moment she heard the reporter had written a good story.
“Namhun-ssi? Such a young man, yet he’s suffered so much. Both parents gone in a car accident and he’s raising little ones all by himself.”
Song Mira’s eyes sparkled as she scribbled.
“It must have been incredibly difficult.”
From the details she learned about Namhun through Park Sukja, she felt a pang of shame.
“You’re such a kind and hardworking young man. Please write a good article.”
Moved by her sincere plea, Song Mira nodded and stood up.
* * *
With Park Sukja’s contact details in hand, Song Mira stepped out of the hospital and spotted Namhun just leaving through the back entrance.
The nurses and Park Sukja had been generous, but such smooth cooperation was rare.
People hated getting tangled in inconvenient things.
Usually you had to hound someone for days before they agreed.
Even now, Namhun had stayed completely out of the spotlight despite the YouTube ad exploding.
Still, seeing that back view made her impatient.
One missed call and it would all vanish.
She could have tried a short, simple approach, but it wasn’t what she had in mind.
Humans are hard to shake once their eyes meet.
Reporters were masters of that.
“Excuse me!”
“…Huh? Me?”
Namhun pointed at himself when a stranger called out.
“Yes. Uh… Namhun-ssi. Could I have a word?”
“Hm? You know me?”
“Song Mira from Star Frame.”
Star Frame was an entertainment magazine Namhun knew well.
It had existed when he was active.
Song Mira quickly straightened her messy clothes, pulled out her card, and offered it.
“Why… me?”
Confused, Namhun listened as she explained.
Her father was in the same ward.
She had heard from the nurses that Namhun had saved Park Sukja.
“It’s incredible. I struggled to even do CPR for one minute in company safety training… you managed over five?”
“I was the only one there. Had to keep going until the ambulance came.”
He answered politely, but something felt off.
The group disbandment, his parents’ accident.
Reporters had followed him through every bad story.
Even at the funeral they had tried to interview the kindergarten girl Yuyeon.
He had punched one in the face and they’d been gone.
So he watched her with caution.
Suddenly a phantom appeared.
Performance – Journalist Who Wants to Write the Real Story
Comprehension – 100
Proficiency – 100
Immersion – 100
Digestibility – 100
Condition – 100
Audience Reaction – 100
Overall Score – 100
“The journalist who wants to write the real story?”
He knew the phantom’s words perfectly described the state of the person in front of him.
At least this one wasn’t bad.
His guard eased a fraction.
* * *
“So for now, just take my card. I’ll ask my agency.”
“You’re from your agency?”
“We did sign a contract.”
“Well, yes, but…”
Namhun’s gaze lingered on the card before he chuckled.
“You’ve grown up, huh?”
“What?”
“Don’t you remember? After the disbandment, a reporter set a trap and I spilled all the bad blood rumors.”
When Hyung exposed the embarrassing past, Namhun’s face burned red.
If he had just stayed quiet, it might have faded.
Instead he had suffered through cleanup for a long time.
“Anyway, good work. This kind of article is tricky if I can’t quote you directly. And Song Mira… you have real potential.”
“How do you know I haven’t even looked yet?”
“You’re barely year one. How many entertainment reporters actually go out and dig for stories? Not many. At least not from what I know. Just doing what you’re told isn’t enough.”
“Hearing you say that makes sense. People who think and act proactively end up succeeding later.”
Kang Seokho at Mubibro and Kim Changsu at D-Sync had shown that spark from their early days.
He had also learned that the supporting directors who had once thrown themselves into work ten years ago were now the company’s top PDs.
“Build some reporter connections now. You’re young, so it doesn’t matter yet.”
“Really? What about you, Hyung?”
“I got pulled to all kinds of places when I was singing. You were too little, and the others weren’t the sociable type.”
“That’s true.”
Woo Minsu and Myeong Ujin had never been outgoing.
“You must have suffered in the shadows.”
“It’s good you noticed. Really grateful.”
“Haha…”
“Anyway, this is my treat.”
“What do you mean?”
“Star Frame is well-known in the industry. To run a solo feature like the one Song Mira envisions, I’d normally have to pay.”
“Pay?”
“Yes. Even entertainment magazines don’t make much. Ads are their main income. Click-based revenue plus cash from entertainment agencies. Kind of symbiotic.”
“So building connections helps?”
“You’ve experienced it yourself, right? Reporter networks come in handy. And when you’re at the bottom, you lay solid foundations that last.”
At the bottom.
He had forgotten for a moment amid the joy of installing a new washing machine, but now he remembered his place.
Trot singer debut trainee.
Basically an idol trainee.
“…When am I going to debut?”
“Hard to say. Watching you, it might happen sooner than you think. I already asked Bellik Coffee.”
“What?”
“They made me promise not to debut in trot within three months. But they asked if I could perform as a trot singer now.”
Namhun’s heart pounded.
“Already? I don’t feel ready yet.”
“I know, but you’ve learned to control it. I think it’s time for real experience. You grow fast in the field.”
Because he had stage experience from a young age, he definitely was that type.
“Trot is one-hit wonder money, but the reaction is lukewarm. No album sales like idols. So you should test the waters.”
“Hmm…”
“The catch is timing. Start by learning how the industry works while you follow the others. Leave the article to me in the middle; I’ll use it for promotion. Don’t worry.”
* * *
Contrary to his hopes, “Saljjakhung!” didn’t get much attention.
With an idol, you saw success the moment the album dropped.
First-week sales.
YouTube views.
MusicPie ranking.
The early numbers proved the fandom’s size, and the data usually set the future trajectory.
Of course “Saljjakhung!” sold almost no albums and failed to enter the top hundred on MusicPie.
“Trot really doesn’t work, does it?”
Seeing Namhun’s disappointment, Hyung chuckled.
“What did you expect?”
“Nothing, really. The stage looked flawless.”
If he hadn’t seen the score table, he wouldn’t have expected anything.
Unexpected high scores had deflated him.
“Was it the premature generalization error?”
Even with a perfect score, it came from only six people.
“I told you. Music shows don’t do much.”
“Then why did you spend money to appear?”
Music shows were pure promotional stages.
The appearance fee was only about ten thousand won, but makeup, hair, costumes, dancers, and stage costs all came out of the singer’s pocket.
At least two million won per show.
He had done three stages on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.
Over six million won.
Trot singers cost less than idols, but the difference wasn’t huge.
“I asked if it was really necessary, but Seongdae-hyung said something else. Using the broadcast exposure to schedule events would be easier.”
“Really?”
“This world cares what’s visible. There are going to be a lot of young trot singers coming out. To get an edge, you need at least some broadcast appearances.”
An edge.
It made sense.
Not ranking still affected visibility whether you appeared on TV or not.
“After music shows, other stations will be easier to book.”
“Other stations?”
“Yes. Music shows have only one percent viewership and grandparents almost never watch, but you can slot Seryeon into STV, MBS, and KJ ENM’s senior-targeted variety shows. That will get the word out.”
“The kind of program that comes up when you think of grandparent shows?”
“That’s right. My Hometown Exploration is the classic for seniors.”
“KBC, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Every station has something similar.”
Senior variety shows usually pulled decent ratings.
“It’s not a bad investment.”
“The appearance fee is higher than music shows, so you break even. Plus, a few events and the investment is paid off.”
“The real question is whether you can book the event.”
“Seryeon’s starting from a different place. Trot promotion is completely different from idol methods, so we have a lot to learn.”
Namhun nodded.
It really felt like a completely different world.
“By the way, they’re promoting at a highway service area on Saturday. Care to come? They said they’ll do busking-style performances.”
“Saturday? Uh… I have a meeting at eleven.”
“We’ll start at the Meeting Plaza, so I’ll catch you after.”
Trot busking at the Meeting Plaza.
It sounded like a fun experience.