How Did She Know?
No, how did she know?
Yu Hana had always been on good terms with the staff, so it wasn’t strange that she knew why the three floating idols had been kicked off the debut team. Still, there was no reason my name should have come up anywhere in the explanation. After all, even the staff had no idea that I was the one who’d uploaded the material.
For a split second I wondered if she’d seen me slipping in to do it, but that was impossible. My body might have been a wreck, but my senses were still sharp as ever. At the exact moment I’d hit upload, there hadn’t been a single soul nearby.
Then what the hell was it? Had she planted a hidden camera in the office? On top of that, the vibe she was giving off felt… off. It made me wonder if this was her real personality. I remembered her as the kind of girl who was always smiling brightly and acting a little airheaded with everyone.
Maybe physiognomy really is a science. From the very beginning, something about her had felt strangely unsettling.
“What are you even talking about? Why are you asking me? I figured they must’ve screwed up pretty badly during the debut team audition.”
I was quite flustered, but my internal fortitude wasn’t so low that I let it show. I might be young in this body, but whether in my previous life or this one, I’d been through every kind of battlefield. Keeping a straight face wasn’t exactly difficult.
“Aww~, what kind of amateur answer is that~? The debut team audition is purely for show. You think the business is a game? The debut lineup was already set long before the audition~ And those three would never have been dropped unless they literally shit themselves on stage.”
“...What?”
I’d tried to steer the conversation as naturally as possible, but her answer hit harder than expected. The debut team had already been decided before the audition? That meant without that material, no matter what I did, I would never have made it in.
The stage I’d agonized over and prepared so desperately in the first round had been nothing but a desperate flail. Entertainment was still a business, after all. I wasn’t naïve enough to misunderstand a company’s desire to minimize risk, but it still left a slightly bitter taste in my mouth.
“Whoa? YeriYeri~ You really didn’t know? After you so coldly and meticulously sent your rivals packing, you still have this kind of innocence left? Oh my, this is getting even more interesting~”
“...What the hell are you saying?”
“I had no idea YeriYeri was this fun. If I’d known, I would’ve gotten closer to you sooner. Is this also because of the burnout? You really do seem like a different person… Well, it doesn’t matter. We can just get close from now on. We’re in the same group now, and we’ll be together for years, right? This might turn out more entertaining than I thought?”
I wasn’t sure what part of my momentary panic had stimulated her, but the girl was getting weirder by the second. She kept muttering things only she could understand and shooting me meaningful looks.
It was honestly starting to give me the creeps. Yu Hana with her eyes open was definitely not normal. That gaze of hers seemed to contain a madness that someone sane like me could never understand.
What made her even more dangerous was that she already knew about the psychiatric diagnosis I’d received just this morning. It had only been a few hours, yet she already knew. She was also clearly convinced that I was the one who uploaded the material. Her information network seemed impossibly good.
This was going to be incredibly annoying. Having such a slippery character join the team was bad enough, and if she started running her mouth everywhere, my image could take unnecessary damage. Of course I hadn’t done anything wrong, but that’s not how Korean society works, is it? People tend to react very sensitively to whistleblowing.
In reality, I’d simply informed them of facts they hadn’t known, so I should have been thanked. But if the world actually ran on pure logic, comedy programs wouldn’t be failing left and right.
Besides, this girl had the aura of a villain. Nothing had been revealed yet, but there was definitely something there. So maybe it was better to stay quiet… No. From the atmosphere, it looked like the team had already been shaken up once. If the main vocalist disappeared too, the debut itself would be…
“Aww~ Looking at it that way, even I feel a little embarrassed~ I was actually just trying to say thank you. Thanks to YeriYeri, a much more interesting group was created~ Those three were… how should I put it? A bit boring.”
“...Really?”
“So. Let’s work well together from now on. ‘Mi.Mo’s Na Yeri.”
“...Me too. ‘Mi.Seong’s Yu Hana.”
“Pfft. This is really fun. Our YeriYeri~ See you later this afternoon~”
While I was seriously pondering for a moment, Yu Hana had returned to her usual squinty-eyed expression. She flashed her bright smile, said only what she wanted to say, and quietly slipped away. She probably hadn’t read my mood; she just had good instincts. Her timing for retreat was so perfect that all I could do was play along.
Even then, throwing in “Mi.Mo” to tease me was a bonus. From the atmosphere, it seemed she was willing to let the matter slide for now. Since she’d made it into the debut team herself, she probably didn’t want to cause any unnecessary trouble.
Her gleeful expression was a little irritating, but she didn’t seem likely to run her mouth and make things difficult for me, so that was enough. Still, regardless of all that, she was definitely a troublesome one. Somehow I had a feeling she was going to be exhausting.
“Don’t tell me the other kids are all like this too? I know that long-time trainees tend to be a bit rotten, but…”
Nah, no way.
In the afternoon there was a full-team intensive training session. For the first time, I got to see every member.
To get straight to the point, there didn’t seem to be any other weirdos like I’d feared. Aside from Yu Hana, the others didn’t show any particular interest in me.
Of course, it was also a problem that the people I’d be spending the next several years with were so indifferent, but that was something time would solve. The fact that they didn’t hold any ill will toward Na Yeri was already satisfying enough. There were far too many trainees in this company who secretly resented me.
Moreover, once we gathered all the members and stood in formation, the synergy was better than I’d expected. I’d been a little worried about having a Westerner suddenly thrown into the group, but it didn’t feel awkward at all.
When I thought about why that was possible, it seemed to be because all the members were strikingly beautiful in their own ways. The eye was naturally drawn in different directions, so Tasha didn’t stand out as much. Of course, it also helped that Tasha’s facial features were subtly East Asian for a Westerner, which kept her from feeling too out of place.
The biggest contributor to helping Tasha blend naturally with the team was undoubtedly Ji Seoeun. Ji Seoeun had sharp, well-defined features and an especially high nose bridge, giving her the look of a Western beauty. With her standing right next to Tasha, the Westerner didn’t feel jarring at all.
A Westerner with an Eastern vibe and an Easterner with a Western vibe. They matched like peanut butter and jelly.
Despite the good chemistry, the results of the team dance training were rather sluggish. How should I put it? Their skills seemed a bit lacking for trainees who’d made the debut team.
That was only natural, though. According to the trainer, these girls had only been trainees for about six months. Just six months. I’d wondered why such pretty girls hadn’t made debut teams before, but six months of experience made perfect sense.
“Yes, yes. You’re doing well. The foundation is there, so if you focus for a month or two, you’ll all improve dramatically.”
The dance trainer, who already knew the situation, seemed to view it quite positively. There were still some shortcomings now, but they could definitely make up for it moving forward.
I felt similarly. They were still lacking in places, but the feel was good enough. When you watch people who truly dance well, even the same choreography feels different. In Tasha and Seong Jiyeong’s case, although their movements were a little clumsy, they each had their own distinct color.
Elegant and refined Seong Jiyeong, tough and wild Tasha. The contrast was a bit worrying, but having their own distinct flavor was far better for catching fans’ eyes than being completely bland. Adjusting that balance was the company’s job anyway. All we had to do was train hard.
“As for Yeri… well. Right now your body and mind might not be working together. I went through something similar when I was actively performing. Don’t rush it. Take it step by step and you’ll regain your old skills. Absolutely no impatience. Stay relaxed. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
In truth, I was the biggest problem. It was understandable for the others since they lacked experience, but a six-year trainee like Na Yeri struggling with dance was something no one could easily accept.
Fortunately, after the psychiatric evaluation came back with a burnout diagnosis, the atmosphere had become somewhat forgiving. The dance trainer, Ha Yuri—who had been the main dancer for Purple Swan—had apparently suffered burnout during her own career and gone through a slump, so she seemed to view my skill regression as just another slump.
She said that even if there were issues right now, once the burnout was resolved with time, everything would naturally improve. Of course my burnout was a completely different problem from an idol’s, but since it worked in my favor I just nodded and moved on.
Thanks to that, I’d bought myself time, so there shouldn’t be any immediate issues. What I’d been most worried about was whether they would keep a trainee who’d burned out from the start in the debut team, but from the trainer’s words, it seemed they were planning a fairly long training period to temper the group.
Probably because three of the members had such short careers. Since they were already taking their time with the debut schedule, they must have judged that my mental issues could be resolved in the meantime.
I’d trusted Director Cha’s words but had still been a little anxious. If things were flowing this way, I could finally relax. Besides, the skill issue was ultimately something time would solve. Even though it was long ago, I had trained as an idol trainee for several years in my previous life.
Even now I could at least match the other members’ choreography, so it wasn’t a huge problem. Of course, if I wanted to properly debut and promote as an idol, I’d still need to set aside separate time to train in dance.