A Strange Discomfort
In the WMA, the three Daesangs are what truly matter above everything else. Artist of the Year. Song of the Year. Album of the Year. These are the prestigious honors reserved exclusively for the artist who delivered the greatest performance of the year. A staggering number of idols leave the industry without ever coming close to winning one. That includes idols from major agencies and those who have scored multiple chart-toppers. Even household-name idols, the kind anyone on the street would recognize, retire without a single WMA Daesang more often than not.
Current WMA Daesang Predictions
Artist of the Year — Seo Siyeon
Song of the Year — glassy sky
Album of the Year — our golden years
It probably won’t change. Predicting the winners this year was just as easy as it had been in every other year, all because of the overwhelming presence of Seo Siyeon, the undisputed ruler. If the full album she was scheduled to release next week had dropped even a month later, people were saying she might have swept all three awards. That was how dominant her form had been throughout the year—so dominant that the public seemed to forget she was only nine years old and currently an orphan.
Even the hardcore music enthusiasts welcomed her existence. They had been waiting a long time for a solo artist, not an idol, to take home a Daesang.
Which was why—
“Song of the Year goes to Seo Siyeon’s Hello, My Four Seasons! Congratulations!”
The announcement creaked from the very first note, and they could only voice their confusion.
To be honest, I don’t really cling to awards. Of course it feels good to win one. It lifts your mood and adds to your reputation. It also makes self-introductions easier—“I’m the person who won such-and-such award.” But I’ve never been the type to obsess over the prestige or tier of the trophies themselves. I was like that in my previous life, and I still am.
So if they didn’t give me a Daesang, or only gave me one? I was fully prepared to accept it. After all, simply receiving even one at the WMA—an award many idols dream of their entire careers—is already something to brag about for a lifetime.
But this… this was different.
“Seo Siyeon’s Hello, My Four Seasons! Congratulations!”
“……”
“Siyeon! Congratulations!”
“H-hurry up and go out there!”
The Blooming members sitting beside me had smiles on their faces and congratulatory words on their lips, but I had spent enough time with them by now. After everything we’d been through together, I could see the disappointment hidden behind those smiles.
This year’s top song of the year was glassy sky. It had dominated by streaming numbers as well—an overwhelming first place. I thought so. Blooming thought so. Even the other idols present all believed glassy sky would take Song of the Year. Because the numbers were simply too strong. There was no song that could compete.
Yet Song of the Year had gone to Hello, My Four Seasons.
I had received a Daesang, but because of this, Blooming—who had already won Best Band, Best Band Music, and Top Ten—would leave without a single Daesang.
Honestly, opportunities like this for Blooming might never come again. They might truly never come again. So separate from my own win, I felt a clear displeasure that the group I loved and produced had been denied a Daesang.
Still, I stood up with a smile. There was no benefit to showing my discomfort here, and since I had won a Daesang myself, my own feelings weren’t bad. I was just a little uneasy.
“I’m truly grateful to receive such a prestigious award on this stage today…”
I recited the roughly one-minute acceptance speech I had prepared in advance. My expression might have been a bit stiff because the unpleasant feeling leaked through, but… my face was always stiff anyway. Besides, I had already performed twice tonight and was physically exhausted. While Singer Star only required one stage per day, performing two at the WMA made the lack of stamina hit my entire body.
I should put a treadmill in the studio and exercise consistently.
As expected, the moment glassy sky failed to win Song of the Year, Korean music communities exploded. From accusations that the WMA had rigged the results to countless people saying they simply couldn’t understand why this had happened. In the midst of that chaos, one post gathered an enormous number of upvotes and shot to the top of the popularity rankings.
In the first place, it’s because the WMA itself is the big three agencies’ playground. Whether they admit it openly or not, everyone in this scene knows the awards ceremony secretly favors artists from the top three companies. Even so, they had no choice but to give Song of the Year to Seo Siyeon. If they didn’t, the rigging would’ve been way too obvious.
From their perspective, giving it to Seo Siyeon is acceptable anyway. The pie doesn’t overlap much since she’s a solo artist. But unlike solo Seo Siyeon, Blooming is a group. And not just any group—it’s a group of ridiculously pretty girls from wealthy families. Of course the major agencies would be burning with jealousy. At a glance, it’s obvious their female idol fans would be stolen at an alarming rate. If Blooming received a Daesang on top of that and became the center of attention, there’s no telling how high they could climb. So they simply made sure Blooming couldn’t receive one.
Since the moment Seo Siyeon won, the choice wasn’t at an unacceptable level… Blooming getting snubbed will probably just get buried like this.
“Album of the Year! RPS’s our golden years! Congratulations!”
The next category was Album of the Year. As predicted, our golden years, which had sold two and a half million copies, took the award. Two and a half million might be hard to grasp, but Starlight had sold just one million and Blooming had sold one hundred thousand. That was twenty-five times more than Blooming’s latest single album. It’s been common knowledge for years that male idol albums sell at least twice as well as female idol albums, so that part was whatever. Even taking that into account, RPS’s growth was insane. When you remembered their album from last year had sold just under a million in the first week… it was easy to see how much impact their Billboard success had made.
I offered a small smile and clapped. Separate from my personal feelings, the more they succeeded, the steeper the globalization of K-pop would become. As a composer, that wasn’t a bad thing at all. Overseas K-pop fandoms behave similarly to domestic J-pop fandoms—possessing the largest size among non-mainstream genres, frightening unity, and insane loyalty. The fandom RPS had built would eventually flow to me, or to Blooming, or if not, to the idols who would debut under Bluesky Entertainment in the future.
Even so, the behavior of the big three agencies was rather despicable. Their intention in denying Blooming a Daesang was painfully obvious.
I glanced sideways and met eyes with Saki, who wore a sullen expression. FYG had only won a single Top Ten award this time. She probably wasn’t in a great mood. When she gave a small wave, I waved back lightly. Soon afterward, RPS finished their acceptance speech and returned to their seats.
“Then… shall we move on to the award for the artist who shone most brilliantly this year?”
“That’s right! Let’s take a look at which candidates have made it to this stage!”
Five names appeared on the screen.
WMA Artist of the Year Nominees
Starlight — the group that reached the peak of activity this year
RPS — the group currently writing K-pop history
FYG — the ruler of the era, still showing undiminished power
Bedmonster — the comet-like spring breeze of K-pop
Seo Siyeon — the little musician displaying her own charming music
“These are the candidates for this year’s WMA Artist of the Year!”