Chapter 74
Chapter 74
Carry me hooome...♡" "I'm swamped—gonna be at the station till tonight. You can make it back alone, right? Your body's been trained by my cock, after all." "Gimme a kiiiss... before you go...♡" "Alright, smack♡" "Smack♡" Min-seo kept up her coquettish act right to the end. I couldn't help but grin from ear to ear as I leaned in for that kiss. Then I headed off to the My Producer shoot—our first recording session, underway inside one of the station's studios. To be precise, only the pilot episode was being filmed in-house; everything after would move to the dedicated My Producer theater. With ninety trainees to house, train, and provide dorms for right next door, it was impossible to accommodate them all within the station itself. Plus, they repurposed an underused large set that had been gathering dust—a high-ceilinged open space with a 2,000-square-foot training center and seating for 800, specialized for massive audition shows. Anyway, arriving at the studio mid-recording, I had to admit the setup looked pretty solid. Ten trainees per row, from row one to nine, arranged in tiered seating. Central stairs ran straight down the middle, dividing left and right while allowing easy access up and down. Everyone wore cute ribbons around their necks. Pink dress shirts on top, paired perfectly with white tennis skirts below. Bathed in bright lights, the packed studio full of My Producer hopefuls reminded me of a lush bouquet brimming with flowers. And right in front of that bouquet sat the four artist-judges-cum-trainers at a long table. Shin Jae-hyun, my loyal lackey. Choi Yoon-jung, the pure-hearted fan who only had eyes for Shin Jae-hyun—and his lackey in turn. I'd ordered him to seduce her, so she'd align with his views, which meant she was my pawn too. Kim Sung-hee, simply put, Korea's top choreographer and dancer. A judge with real expertise. Yoo Sung-jin, Kim Sung-hee's vocal equivalent. Another judge with exceptional credentials. Guess it's time for the ranking evaluations... From what I could tell, while I'd been busy with Min-seo, they'd already finished the intro segments where trainees appeared by agency, giving everyone a face shot. I sidled up to An PD, who was glued to the cameras, and spoke softly. "An PD, everything going smoothly?" "Oh? Director! We were wondering when you'd show." Kim PD was off handling something else, out of sight for now. Makes sense—they were co-PDing My Producer, so they were splitting duties. "Mind pausing after this group's turn?" "Huh? Why? They're all deep in the zone, killing it." "They should at least greet the director. I'm the overall head of My Producer." "Nah, come on—too many people here to halt everything just for me. Keep rolling." "Hmm... Alright, we'll keep going then." I'm no old fogey demanding bows and scraping the flow. That'd be insane. I shoved my hands in my pockets and stood behind An PD. Prime view of the whole studio. First, I scanned for the girls I'd already marked. There she was, my favorite, parked in one of the seats on the right side of row four. Black wavy hair cascading to her mid-back for that fresh, delicious vibe. Sua. Even from afar, I spotted her instantly—we'd gotten plenty close before. Thinking back, I'd been just a regular fanboy stanning Sua, and now here we were, tangled in something sticky and intimate. Sure, she came from a third-tier girl group, but if she nailed this fresh debut chance, I was dead certain I could propel her to the top. Sua had idol potential in spades. I nodded to myself, then quickly located A-yul next. She was in row six, tucked in the absolute corner seat—perfectly suiting her vibe. Maybe because they'd all rolled hot and heavy in my bed, I could pick them out easily amid that flower field. Anyway, A-yul rocked her signature long, straight black hair and light makeup on her youthful face today, as always. With her inherently dark, brooding aura, I wondered if idol training would suit her—but her vocals? I was arbitrarily convinced they'd be the best here. But... Why's her face like that? A-yul's expression was off—seriously troubled. Like a puppy desperate to poop, her eyes darted wildly, panic written all over. Her hands kept fidgeting between her knees and thighs, showing clear anxiety. She was so tensed up her already pale skin had gone ghostly white. Her chest heaved with deep breaths as she tried to calm her racing heart. "Hey, An PD." "Yes, Director?" "Any trainees looking like they might have issues right now?" "Issues...?" "Like, faces that'd be tough to air on TV." "Haha, you mean that indie one you brought in?" "Yeah. She looks wrecked—camera'd have to dodge her if she stays like that. When did she start?" "Frozen stiff from the jump. Told the trainees not to stress, but yeah, that doesn't fix nerves, haha." "Hmm..." It must be an overwhelming, alien environment for A-yul. Agency trainees get drilled on camera work—not just facing it, but seeking it out—so they're prepped for packed setups like this under glaring lights. But A-yul? Street busker at best. All these cameras and lights probably felt like pure torment to her, so her freakout made sense. "You seem worried, Director." "Yeah, well... I basically scouted her myself." "Hoping she survives long enough to debut with Ceria?" "Exactly—lured her in to be their main vocalist." No point hiding it from An PD, who'd rotted through with corruption already. He'd taken his share of favors to slot trainees in, and PD buy-in was key to pushing mine anyway. "Heh, that shaky look? Pure gold for a reality show like this. Gold." "...? How so? It's an idol survival show—viewers and judges'll just see her nerves as amateurish, not cut out for it." "That's the textbook take, sure. But this is a journey of growth too. Viewers'll eat up a nervous wreck like her. Total immersion. Especially an unaffiliated street kid trembling solo—then boom, potential explodes later? That's peak narrative beauty. If she delivers, anyway, haha!" "Ah..." Got it. An PD was thinking layers ahead from every angle. He even seemed giddy at the thought of airing A-yul's jitters. Whatever else, his broadcast instincts were top-notch. Good call handing it to him. Then a sudden curiosity hit me, and I spoke up. "An PD, got any faves among the trainees? Agency plants you lobbied for?" He'd gotten sexual favors from agencies to sneak their kids in, so I figured. "Nah. The seniors from those groups spread their legs for company gain, but the trainees? No action with me. Couldn't care less." "...
I see." Trainees smuggled in via favors? If they flop, they'll follow their seniors into the sex service circuit to keep idoling. Agencies treat trainees like unscratched lottery tickets—no sane one sends them to parties. Plus, most are minors anyway; it's a hard no. Our chat was hushed whispers—no eavesdroppers. Meanwhile, My Producer episode one kept rolling through our filthy talk. "Eun-ji, you're not syncing with your team at all." "Ah, yes..." "Match your steps better... and also..." Trainees performed live over MR tracks, singing and dancing in full view. Judges gave feedback or praise, then huddled to assign ranks. Agency mates grouped up for team stages; solos otherwise. No big stakes—just individual evals. Post-this, ranks divide, and they team with total strangers for the first time. "Finally, Ha Sun-i: Tier 3. Good work, everyone." "Thank you." "Next: Min A-yul?" Oh, A-yul's turn at last. Sua, Si-hyun, Da-hyun, A-yeon—they were already idols, so no sweat. Probably top-tier here too. A-yul was different. Her eval was a must-see, and I hadn't missed it—lucky. "H-Hello..." "No agency?" "Ooh, exciting. Love a dark horse." "Totally. These are the ones who make it fun when they shine." The judges showed real anticipation. Up till now, hawk-like evaluator stares; now, pure curiosity gleaming. Faces hungry for raw, unpolished talent untouched by agency polish. "Alright, show us what you've got." "Y-Yes...! C-Can I do vocals over dance...?" "Sure, sure." "Vocalist type, huh." A-yul fired up her prepared MR and sang. I closed my eyes, ready to immerse... but this wasn't the A-yul I knew. "Under the moooonlight-!!" Off! Off! Pitchy as hell, voice trembling like aspen leaves. Not even vibing—it straight-up sounded like someone who couldn't sing. Too precarious; I couldn't listen anymore. Curious about the judges, I perked my ears their way. "What is this...?" "Way too nervous... Honestly, can't even evaluate skill at this level." "Sigh... Such a shame..." Expected outcome. A-yul cut off mid-song and stopped. Even she knew pushing on was just stubborn pride. Her face? Frozen solid into stone. "...
Director, scratch that 'gold' comment from earlier... I figured massive tension into a surprise flop for the vocals—head-canon stuff. But this? Viewers'll think 'yeah, she's bombing worse than expected.' That's the vibe we'll get..." "Enough, I get it." A-yul clearly needed me to loosen her up a bit.