It Begins with Variety: Next K-Star (3)
"But, Team Leader."
Kim Hyunjo tapped a finger against the table, turning it over.
"If we push the articles too hard, won't that just backfire? Netizens these days are quick. They can tell agency spin from a real story in a second."
"Which is exactly why we keep it measured."
"I saw a piece the other day. Star Trend, I think. They'd plastered it with 'successful debut,' 'unforgettable first impression,' 'rising star'—I couldn't even get through it."
"I'll ask them to hold off on that sort of thing. Everyone already knows it flopped. It's embarrassing... An intern probably wrote that one."
Listening, I started to sketch how managers, the PR team, and reporters actually fit together.
A manager passed story material on their artist to PR, and PR either circulated a press release or asked a friendly reporter for something more carefully written. If the celebrity had any heat, outlets all over the internet copied that first piece wholesale and dumped follow-ups—what the business called urakkai—and if they didn't, the story sank without a single comment. Just like Neptune's articles, which you could only find by typing the name into a search bar.
"And, Chief. About Neptune's interview this afternoon."
"The G-Today one?"
"Yes. We should tell the kids not to go on about how hard it's been, how much they've suffered. People will just say, you're celebrities, how hard could it be, everybody's struggling, we're struggling too."
"So they should only say they'll work hard."
"That's the best line. They got in as replacements. Rub anyone the wrong way, even a little, and they'll get torn apart."
"Then we let the premiere air, watch the reaction, and..."
Somewhere along the way the meeting had started to feel like an actual meeting. The young man and woman from PR were tapping at their laptops, a word processor open, writing something.
I didn't want to just sit there listening, so I pulled out a fresh notebook and started taking down everything coming out of Kim Hyunjo and Team Leader Park.
"What if we ask Blackout to mention them on Instagram?" one of the PR staff offered. "If Blackout and Neptune show up in the same headline, that'll definitely trend."
"Let's hold off on that," Kim Hyunjo said. "Last time we ran a piece calling them Blackout's little-sister group, the reaction was worse, not better. Push it wrong and kids who are just starting to see a little light could get branded as unlikable. You know how rabid Blackout's fans are."
"Do something like that and the company gets complaint calls telling us to stop using Blackout."
"Right. A hundred percent. A hundred percent."
Team Leader Park, scratching his head, asked out of nowhere.
"By the way, Chief. Neptune's private lives are clean, right?"
"They are."
"If there's anything reporters can't be allowed to find, we need to know it first. Otherwise it's the kind of thing you could have stopped with a hoe, and a shovel won't save you."
"There really isn't anything."
"Nobody dating? I heard the rapper from Punchline has his eye on Songha."
Kim Hyunjo startled.
"Which guy? Are you sure?"
"Their team's stylist was talking, and someone passed it along. We should treat it as basically confirmed. Punchline's on Next K-Star with them this round. They already have a decent fanbase. A scandal would be a disaster. It absolutely cannot happen."
"I know. I'll keep a close watch."
"You two keep an eye out as well."
Team Leader Park looked at me and Choi Geon-young as he said it.
"If you catch anything suspicious, tell me right away."
"Yes."
I jotted down a few things worth watching and slashed a hard double line under Punchline's rapper. In this country's climate, when a scandal broke, it was almost always the woman who paid for it. I'd met Neptune—and Lee Songha—only yesterday, but they were still the first artists in my care. Of course that rapper from Punchline didn't sit right with me.
"And another thing..."
The door banged open, and a man I'd never seen stuck his head in. He had the easy, familiar look of the guy from next door.
"Aigoo, sorry to barge in when you're busy. I need a quick favor from Team Leader Park."
"What is it?"
"Our Chae-young has a premiere tomorrow."
Chae-young? Don't tell me—Son Chae-young?
She was only in her mid-twenties, but she'd started as a child actor, and her years since debut were already well past ten. She didn't have Sung Do-won's level of fame, but any feature rounding up the actresses of the moment was sure to carry her name. A charming performer, with a solid filmography built between movies and television.
I'd gone to the theater three times for the film where Son Chae-young played an innocent college student.
Was this man her manager?
If anyone saved the nation in a past life, it wasn't me. It was him.
"She says she's wearing a Balmain dress and wants a comparison piece saying she wore it better than the models."
"You don't mean that dress that looks like combat gear? She's wearing that? Chief Jo, you should have talked her out of it."
"Her renewal's coming up soon. Just run the article. You've got plenty of reporters you're close with, Team Leader Park. Please, save me."
At Chief Jo's theatrics, Team Leader Park sighed.
"Running the piece isn't the problem. That outfit really doesn't suit her."
"Is the stylist an anti? Is the agency even doing its job? We're going to get slaughtered again."
When the PR staffer grumbled, Chief Jo only piled it on, begging them to please just help him out.
"Oh, right!"
He'd been on his way out. He spun around and came back in.
"Those two over there. New hires?"
The traitor and I, who had been waiting for the right moment to greet him, stood up at the same time.
"Hello. I'm Jung Sunwoo."
"Choi Geon-young."
"Right. The moment I get used to the faces, they change. Still, I've got a feeling you two might actually last. Both of you are built big, so the stamina should be there. Start in that team and you'll adapt wherever you end up next. When we do a company dinner, we'll talk properly then."
"Yes, we underst—"
"Keep at it!"
The door slammed.
We stared at it for a moment. It didn't open again.
After that the meeting ran about another hour. In that hour I filled two pages of the notebook, and found myself impressed with Team Leader Park and the rest of the PR staff. I'd only just met them, and already they felt like people I'd known for months.
Remarkable people...
"Catch."
Kim Hyunjo tossed the car keys to the traitor.
"I've got meetings and outside appointments stacked from here on, so the two of you handle prep for the G-Today interview."
"Us?"
"Geon-young, you've done this before, haven't you? I already called Taehee, so pick the kids up and head to the shop first. The stylists will go straight there. Get them dressed and take them to the paper. Call the reporter when you arrive and they'll show you in. I'll get there before the interview starts."
He said it with his eyes fixed on his planner. The schedule column was packed, hour by hour, with everything he had to get through today.
"The dorm and the shop are already in the GPS, so follow that. I'll text you the stylists' numbers, the paper's address, and the reporter's contact. Lunch at the shop, same as yesterday. The interview's at two, so be there by one-thirty at the latest. If anything comes up, call me. Got it?"
"Yes."
"Oh, and tonight we're eating with the Next K-Star production team. A pre-meeting over dinner. It'll probably run long. I already told the kids, so you should know too."
"Sorry?"
"Go. Now!"
The traitor and I snatched up our bags and hurried onto the elevator.
Getting off on time was a lost cause again today.
I sent my brother a text saying I'd be late again. The traitor was checking his watch.
"It's nine-thirty now... If we have to be there by one-thirty, there's no room to take it easy."
"How is a single day here this packed?"
"Once Next K-Star starts, we might as well live at the company."
"Chief already seems to."
"Yeah. He said he slept at the office last night."
Acting normal around him was hard enough on its own.
I understood why mind readers in movies and dramas were so often written as cynical, twisted people. I only knew one person whose outside didn't match his inside, and even that left me uneasy. If I could hear what everyone in the world was really thinking, how unbearable would that be?
How lucky that my ability wasn't mind reading.
I shook my head and offered a silent bit of comfort to whatever mind reader might be out there somewhere.
The elevator soon reached the basement. The van was parked in the same spot as yesterday. We stopped in front of the driver's seat. Two people, one wheel.
"You a good driver?"
The traitor asked first.
I'd gotten my license the moment I graduated high school. After that, all I'd done was drive my brother's car a little. I'd taken a refresher course before joining the company, but honestly, threading Cheongdam-dong's tangled alleys made me nervous.
When I cleared my throat, the traitor opened the driver's door.
"I'll drive."
"Deal. I'll be the lunch-box shuttle instead."
I didn't argue. I climbed into the passenger seat, and the moment the GPS came on, the van pulled away smooth.
The traitor was a good driver, too. Then again, he'd said he drove back when he was working part-time as a manager for Blackout.
On the way to the dorm I searched Sung Do-won online. Even during the meeting he'd kept surfacing in my head, nearly breaking my focus more than once. Now I could look properly.
Let's see... his recent news, rumors about his next project, baseless tabloid scraps. I combed through everything tied to Sung Do-won. There wasn't much negative opinion.
Not long ago an article had gone up about his price. Sixty million won an episode for domestic dramas, and in China, fees past a hundred million an episode.
A piece like that usually set public opinion stirring, but the common reaction was that someone of Sung Do-won's caliber deserved it. His image was that good.
Handsome, a strong actor, generous with donations, and careful enough that he'd never stirred controversy with a slip on social media or a bad line in an interview. There was nothing to pick at.
So what in the world was going to happen to an actor like this? How big a bomb had to go off for Sung Do-won himself to say his life as a performer might be over? And what did he mean, that he'd nearly been pulled into someone's scheme? Who was this "other side"? And why had the future I'd seen earlier been different from the ones I'd seen yesterday?
Damn it... I was dying to know.