Suspicious Moans from the Waiting Room
Damn, today was The Queens' stage recording day. It was the second one I'd handled since starting as their road manager.
Three months since the last recording, right? Over the past six months, The Queens' activities had mostly been photoshoots and TV appearances. And those were mainly sexy concepts, or swimsuit ads and the like. They paid well, sure, but we couldn't just focus on that forever. Because to make even more money, they needed to keep the 'idol' title front and center. A group of 'hot-bodied girls' drew less attention than 'hot-bodied idols.' Of course, holding onto that idol label wasn't easy. It wasn't about The Queens' skills—they had at least the basics down pat, even if they weren't top-tier. The real issue was scrounging up gigs. With K-idols setting the global standard, there were over a million kids in Korea alone dreaming of debuting. Gigs were always scarce in the idol world.
And in that cutthroat scene, I'd landed us a job? I'd been too focused on checking my relationship with Shin Soye to notice, but apparently, it was hypnotized-me who'd scored this stage. In hypnosis mode, I'd chatted up a passing PD in the broadcasting station parking lot, won him over, and snagged us a slot. That alone would've marked me as crazy enough, but then I'd even picked the song for their performance.
"Pushing sexy concepts non-stop gets stale. It's better to mix in a curveball now and then. Hammering with all fastballs just makes patterns predictable and less effective."
"The shows want to milk our sexy side, sure. Just give a little service shot before and after the stage."
"Plus, if we go cute on stage, they'll dig for sexy bits in interviews to squeeze out footage. Tease them there, and we get the stage and airtime—one stone, two birds."
"A gamble? Of course it is. But showing The Queens' fresh side draws eyes, and we get more screen time... Worth the bet, right?"
Apparently, I'd pitched this solid strategy, convinced the members, then sold it to a passing section chief to seal the deal. When Shin Soye confirmed it all, I thought: Hypnosis-mode me is insane. Insanely good. No wonder my manager cred was rising, and Kim Su-hyeok was avoiding me like the plague. At this rate, forget the Hypnosis App—it was more like a hypnosis sensei. Arigato, sensei...!
"Alright, I'm off."
Snapping out of my thoughts, I heard Shin Soye's voice. A staffer was wandering around with a sign: "Number 6, prepare."
"Break a leg," I said with a grin.
She grinned back, glanced around, spotted Im Haeun and Park Minji off in the distance, then slyly stroked my crotch. Playing along, I slipped a hand under her miniskirt, brushing her inner shorts. But Soye's spot was already sopping wet.
"...Sis?"
"See you after."
With that, she sauntered off, her voice dripping with hearts—and a hint of impatience. She's holding back, dying to jump me right now.
That day, The Queens killed it harder than usual. Post-broadcast reactions noted Soye looking sexier than ever.
"......."
After the show, inside the van. Im Haeun sat with her arms crossed, face twisted in annoyance.
"......."
Just her and Park Minji in the van. Minji was zonked out beside her, mumbling in her sleep.
"Mmmnyam... Tired... Hate it..."
"Yeah, yeah, good job, Minji."
"Wueng... Gonna work me again..."
"Don't blame me—blame Lee Sejin."
Haeun humored the sleep-talk, but her mind raced. Something's off.
The show was over, nothing left to do at the station. So why hadn't Sejin and Soye returned to the van? Maybe a quick convenience store run? But it was taking too damn long. Soye wasn't the type to leave her dongsaengs hanging...
"Minji, gonna step out quick."
"Mmmnyam... Bring... melon..."
Ignoring the nonsense, Haeun hopped out. Not her usual move—leaving Minji alone, or hunting people down herself. But lately, Soye had been weird. Coming home late at night, vanishing at odd times, groaning alone in her room or the bathroom. And thinking back, Sejin was always MIA then too. Just like now.
What's going on between Sejin and unnie?
Curiosity propelled her steps. No sign of them at the station's convenience store, lobby, or anywhere. Where the hell...? No contact yet either, so not back at the van. Last stop: the pre-recording waiting room.
"...?"
About to open the door—rustling inside.
"...Ahh..."
"A bit... deeper..."
Ear to the door: muffled voices, weird vibe. Haeun swallowed hard, startling herself.
Can't hear clearly...
She strained, but the closed door blocked it. Glancing around, she cracked it open—just enough for one eye. Silent, careful—the door swung lightly, no creak. Lucky.
"Nng, nng..."
Louder now: definitely a woman's moan.
"Hah, hah..."
And a man's panting. Sounds like unnie... Then the guy has to be Sejin.
Sejin and unnie doing something shady in the waiting room...?
Ridiculous. Why would that Soye-unnie hook up with a guy like Sejin here? They weren't a couple, no secret dating vibes.
Soye-unnie dating Sejin? She'd be slumming it!
Her mind spiraled to the negative.
What if... unnie's being blackmailed by Sejin?
Plausible. Lately, he'd been aggressive on work, gaining pull. Using gigs as leverage—or whatever—to corner her? Haeun's imagination ran wild, hearing his sleazy voice:
"Soye-ssi, you know what happens if you don't listen?"
"...Fine. Just leave my dongsaengs out of it..."
"Depends on you, Soye-ssi. Now, then..."
Horrifying. She had to check.
Can't see.
No guy, no girl in view. She nudged the door wider. Slowly, ant-crawl slow, no noise.
How focused was she?
There...!
A man's legs: pants and boxers around ankles. Waist thrusting hard. Even inexperienced Haeun knew: full-on fucking. But his face? Blocked by curtain, desk, chairs clutter.
Who is it?
And no sign of the woman. Door wider still—tiny bits, super careful.
"Hah, hah...!"
"Ahh, nngh, there, yes, more...!"
Louder voices, pleasure leaking despite their hush. Just a bit more...
Now the woman: draped over the vanity, face and body hidden, but ankles dangling under desk—shorts hooked, flailing wildly.
'.......'
Door view had limits. No clearer sight from here. Hesitating, Haeun crept in. Low, silent, no rustle—heart pounding like mad.
Then—
Clang.
Her foot hit the aluminum trash bin by the door. Small, clear ring.
Ah, fuck.
That instant—no swearing aloud was Haeun's best save.