Chapter 10
Filming ended at 9 p.m., mainly to protect the artists, especially Han Hyo-seok’s face.
Both First Light and the PD felt disappointed that a full day of filming only produced one episode.
But at the same time, they were satisfied that at least they got one episode.
I took photos of the members’ doodled-up faces and immediately sent them to the staff member managing the official account.
The PD and all the staff looked at me with overwhelming gratitude.
I had helped them leave work earlier, so as a fellow modern worker, I decided to accept that gratitude without false modesty.
Though on the other hand, stylist Lee Ye-young, who had to erase all the doodles, smacked me on the back as she passed.
“Why did you give them pens?”
“Ah, sorry. But that really hurts.”
I rubbed my back dramatically.
Then Lee Ye-young frowned and asked,
“But why have you been shaking this whole time? If you’re cold, want me to lend you a jacket?”
As a stylist, she seemed to be paying attention to my condition.
I pulled down my sleeve to hide my trembling hand, leaned closer, and whispered,
“There are too many cameras.”
Having known me since The Idol Chosen by the Nation, she just nodded.
When there are lots of cameras, it’s normal for me to get overly tense and struggle to breathe.
People at Park Jong-ryeol Entertainment had always treated me as the shut-in with stage fright and social anxiety they had knowingly hired.
So they subtly looked out for me when cameras were around.
But I couldn’t expect that at TRV.
TRV had some shabby-company qualities, sure.
But compared to the almost family-like Park Jong-ryeol Entertainment, it was much more like a real entertainment company.
For better and worse.
All care was focused on artists.
Employees survived on their own.
After the doodles were finally cleaned off, I was about to drive everyone back to the dorm when Min Ji-ho looked at me oddly and said,
“Hyung, you didn’t come here as a manager.”
“Just get in first.”
After meeting President Park, and after spending time on that self-produced show while carrying pressure that I might have to stand in front of a camera again…
I realized for sure.
I absolutely cannot stand in front of a camera.
I might just faint.
Even now, online people call me “National Hate” more often than Jung Hae-won.
Not “The Idol Chosen by the Nation.”
“The Idol Hated by the Nation.”
Back when I was deep in my shut-in phase, I couldn’t even eat soup.
Because the word for soup starts with “guk,” and just seeing “guk” stressed me out.
Couldn’t even handle the Korean language properly, but somehow managed to get stressed in a very Korean-language way.
Maybe I’m just half-baked as a human.
Ji-ho was about to get in the car, then checked the time.
“Then I’ll go to the practice room first.”
Out of the six members, four were minors.
The remaining two didn’t have licenses.
Which meant if they practiced until dawn…
I had to wait and drive them home.
As a manager, sure, that was normal.
But hearing it suddenly made me emotional.
“You’re making me do errands because you think I’m easy, right?”
“Kind of?”
“You little…”
“If you pick me up later, I’ll be grateful forever, hyung.”
Seems having someone familiar around made them comfortable.
I’ll be the one to endure.
I waved Ji-ho toward the practice room.
Park Seon-jae, who had been in the car too, apparently wanted to stay there and immediately followed.
Then when two of the three left, Hwang Saebyeok got out too.
And after that, the other three from the second van all piled out and went into the practice room.
Seeing that, Manager Park Joong-woon awkwardly said,
“Ah… if the members wanted to practice, they could’ve just told me.”
So I said,
“Hwang Saebyeok is the problem. He’s the leader. If the members have opinions, he should coordinate and tell you.”
“Damn…”
A manager understands a manager.
Moved by my words, Manager Park grabbed my hand and shook it.
Then he said,
“Once the members start practicing, they always go until dawn. Go sleep at a sauna or something.”
And with that…
He left for a sauna himself.
I took snack and drink orders from the members and went out to buy things.
After wandering outside for a while to kill time, I came back with two full garbage bags of energy drinks and snacks.
Music was coming from the practice room.
Inside, the members were running choreography.
They had modified the choreography by adding an intro arrangement.
And because they were all such good dancers, they adapted almost instantly.
They had been running nonstop all promotion period.
They filmed content all day.
And still had energy to practice.
Amazing.
I couldn’t chalk it up to youth.
For someone like me who had been soaked in alcohol lately…
It looked impossible.
Then during a break, as I was about to go in with snacks, Ji-ho suddenly turned music back on.
“Hyungs, what if in the middle, you know… dara-rara-da dara ddi-ddi-ddiri… and at the part ‘the promise we made now is forever,’ what if we add just one move there? It’s choreography I made with Hae-won hyung back during Nation’s Idol.”
As he said it, the music for that section played.
And he started inserting our paired choreography.
Though honestly, “made together” was generous.
Ji-ho made it.
I just helped.
It isn’t easy to insert choreography created for totally different music into another song.
But geniuses like Ji-ho…
The kind that make you curse…
Just think it roughly in their heads and make it fit.
Selfish genius bastard…
After finishing, Ji-ho asked,
“What do you think? You want to do it, right? It fits the lyrics, honestly.”
But everyone’s reaction was lukewarm.
Ji-ho’s choreography usually broke beats in ways ordinary people struggled to feel.
And simple-looking moves were hard to give flavor to.
When Ji-ho danced, I could see what he wanted.
When I danced it…
Didn’t work.
So people gave up.
If there were no alternative, they might reluctantly do it.
But right beside him stood pure artist Han Hyo-seok.
And for the members, letting meticulous Hyo-seok lead performance probably felt easier.
Until now.
“Come on. Let’s try something challenging too.”
Ji-ho didn’t back down.
He pushed again.
“I want to put Hae-won hyung’s choreography on stage.”
…Selling me out, this bastard.
Still, it worked.
Hwang Saebyeok was the first to respond positively.
“Should we try it?”
Then quiet Han Hyo-seok said,
“Did you get Hae-won hyung’s permission?”
“No. Not yet.”
“If you made it together, you should.”
“I’ll go get it. Wait.”
Ji-ho said confidently.
And then—
Inspiration struck like lightning.
I immediately set down both bags, crouched at the practice room door, and pulled out my phone.
Ever since I started studying composition, I couldn’t think of material.
Now suddenly I had it.
I urgently recorded melodies into a phone app.
Maybe having a clear purpose—
Moving Ji-ho to center—
sparked it.
I hummed the song aloud and thought of a title.
One of the keywords I’d thought of before.
One Team, One Goal.
I guarantee Ji-ho would go insane with excitement.
And the other five would say it was cheesy and old-fashioned and refuse.
But strangely…
Once I thought of the title,
the melody kept coming.
Even lyrics started forming.
I frantically recorded melody and wrote lyrics.
Then a status window appeared.
[Quest Generated]
[Chapter 1. One Team, One Goal.]
[Achieve 200,000 video views.]
[(Hitmaker’s Red Roulette) B-rank ticket awarded.]
Huh?
200,000?
That was hard even for anything other than an official music video.
Looking at First Light members’ personal views, it was impossible.
Their self-produced content recently did well if it reached 20 to 30 thousand.
Even 100,000 felt like climbing Everest.
Even fancams only hit that if someone exploded.
I shook my head.
No time to focus on that.
I even forgot to hand out snacks.
I leaned against the practice room wall and immersed myself in composing.
* * *
Just like Manager Park said, practice ended at dawn.
I got home at 3 a.m.
For the first time since the overseas schedule, I lay down in my own room.
And had to leave again in five hours.
Felt like I’d fall asleep the moment my head touched the pillow.
But if I didn’t work today, I thought I’d forget it.
So I slapped the back of my head to stay awake and transferred what I’d saved on my phone to my desktop.
Because I had long piano training, the basic work felt easier.
And my father had played guitar for years, so what I’d naturally learned beside him helped a lot too.
“Everything you learn really does get used.”
It hadn’t come at all before.
Now because I was desperate…
Lyrics and concept came together too.
A high-teen concept they absolutely had to do right now, while over half the members were still in high school.
And specifically—
A cool top-group-at-school kind of vibe.
“Third second first la-la-la-light…”
Humming hooks alone at dawn felt strange.
There are two things I’m truly bad at.
Singing.
And writing.
Still, I kept going.
“Become a flame, burn this stage… no. Wait. Good. This works. For a first song, this is enough.”
Fighting off an indescribable wave of self-awareness, I kept writing lyrics.
The rough idea was—
If you run in different directions, you can’t reach the goal.
Run toward the same place.
That was what I thought First Light needed most.
I forced everything else in.
But the biggest problem was the rap.
[I’m cool, you’re cool]
I stared at the rap I wrote and covered my face.
I wanted to bury my head somewhere and die.
Unlike me, First Light’s main rapper Shin Ji-woon was absurdly emotional.
I’d just have to make excuses and say I trusted him and filled it roughly.
After outlining the song, I stopped.
Learning composition in theory looked creative.
Actually doing it…
It was labor.
To make even somewhat decent quality, I needed more time.
Finishing before the A&R meeting was physically impossible.
And after staying up all night, my brain wasn’t functioning.
Eventually I stopped.
And just after saving the file—
A status window appeared.
[Checking hit possibility for ‘One Team One Goal’]
- L-Rank hit probability: 0%
- S-Rank hit probability: 0%
- A-Rank hit probability: 0%
- B-Rank hit probability: 0%
- C-Rank hit probability: 0%
I didn’t ask.
Why was it telling me this?
Then—
[Challenge in progress: 200,000 video views]
[(Hitmaker’s Red Roulette) B-rank ticket awarded.]
I wasn’t expecting much anyway.
But seeing 0% made my motivation melt.
Then again…
If I’m cool, you’re cool became a hit,
that really would be the downfall of modern pop music.
