Debuting by Riding the Returnee’s Bus Chapter 165

[TOP9] Beta

 

It was only natural that people would feel a sense of relative deprivation.

 

Even I, the person involved, was bewildered by the appearance fee I was supposedly going to receive. Not only was it hard to believe, but it didn’t even feel real. I couldn’t tell if I was dreaming or awake.

 

Regardless of whether people believed articles like these or not, I could completely understand how those who read the news would feel.

 

‘Who would pay a rookie that much?’

 

That was the normal reaction.

 

I didn’t know how much Beta from [TOP9] was being paid, but chances were he had joined for less than most rookie actors.

 

That’s simply how this industry worked. Being a former idol with ticket-selling power or being famous as an idol didn’t suddenly earn you a dramatically higher acting fee. Your agency might negotiate a little better or worse, but unless you struck it big midway through your career, the normal path was to gradually climb the ladder one step at a time..

 

The public also tended to cheer the loudest when an actor or idol they supported steadily grew through each stage of their career. Nobody got angry when an actor with over ten years of experience received this kind of paycheck. If anything, many people would say they deserved it.

 

Because everyone knew how hard that actor had struggled through years of obscurity to reach where they were. They knew how skilled the actor was, what kind of filmography they had built, and what kind of story their career represented.

 

That was why they weren’t shaken by the glamorous lives of veteran actors. Even seeing everything those actors had achieved with their own eyes, they didn’t feel that same sense of unfairness.

 

But Lee Unha was different.

 

More precisely, because he was a rookie, the reaction was even stronger.

 

Though he had already created a nationwide craze once with a challenge trend, there were still many people in this country who didn’t know who Lee Unha was. Even those who vaguely knew he was an idol had no idea what he’d been through or what kind of journey had brought him here.

 

To them, it looked like some random newcomer had suddenly landed a leading-role-level paycheck out of nowhere. In fact, that was exactly what it looked like.

 

‘Man… even so… they seem really angry. Was the community I’ve been looking at… not even the tip of the iceberg?’

 

[Kiss]: Who even is Lee Unha? Celebrities really have it easy these days, huh? What rookie actor gets paid this much? Never even heard of this nobody. Is this for real?

 

‘I’m… actually pretty well-known, though.’

 

[qqq]: I wonder what my 45 years of life have been. I’ve done everything from delivery work to day labor… I guess all that time was completely meaningless.

 

‘No. It wasn’t.’

 

[munmm]: I always knew life was unfair, but I’ve never felt this empty before. I don’t care about actor-idols or Lee Unha or whatever. I just wish a war would break out. F*ck.

 

‘He must be joking, right?’

 

[eunhn]: F*ck, being a celebrity is like being royalty. I’m so frustrated I can’t stand it. I’m boycotting that drama.

 

‘Now there’s a boycott too?’

 

I felt like I couldn’t even bear to read the portal site comments anymore. This was even after I’d been filtering out and only inputting the milder ones into my brain. People were furious at the gap between their lives and Lee Unha’s, and they were expressing that rage directly.

 

Beyond the portal site comments, the more notorious online communities were filled with even harsher insults. There were even those openly cursing him and setting out to kill Lee Unha. I couldn’t understand it, but there were even movements to boycott the drama.

 

Of course, the comments didn’t upset me or bother me that much. Lee Unha was numb to hate comments. Unlike Kim Haejun or the other members, Lee Unha was used to being beaten down.

 

During Idol Classism, I had let the public’s reaction affect my mood, but that was strictly because my debut was on the line. If I failed to debut, I’d be sent to another world, so how could I ignore them?

 

But now, it was different. Whether obsessive haters showed up or people attacked me for no reason, I didn’t need to care much.

 

‘As long as the full album succeeds.’

 

One thing I was worried about…. was not how the public viewed me, but how the fellow actors I’d be filming with would see me.

 

‘There are actors who like me—including the Grandpa—but if someone already doesn’t have a favorable impression of me, there’s a good chance they’ll look at me with disdain.’

 

Of course.

 

‘I’d actually prefer it if TOP9’s Beta… hated me….’

 

Needless to say, the upcoming script reading was going to be critically important.

 

 ***

 

“Hey, how much are you getting paid for this role?”

 

“Why do you care?”

 

“No, I mean, are you even getting paid at all? Huh?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Did you hear the news about Lee Unha?”

 

“F*ck, did you come here just to rub it in?”

 

“Pwahahahaha. Did I hit a nerve?”

 

“Cut the crap and get lost. Seriously.”

 

“Ah, f*ck, I really did hit a nerve. Beta. I mean, our Dongkwon must be so heartbroken. You worked so hard for this opportunity… and now you’re being treated like a side dish. Hahahahahaha.”

 

“I said stop it! F*ck!”

 

“Man, what are we gonna do with our Dongkwon? His very first project, and he’s already about to get completely trampled.”

 

“You really wanna die?”

 

“Alright, alright. Man, this guy is so sensitive. Seriously. It was just a joke… What’s your problem?”

 

“Mind your own bullsh*t. You’d better focus on your album. Don’t end up getting crushed by Kim Haejun.”

 

“What?”

 

“What? Did that hit a nerve?”

 

“You punk, seriously. I told you not to talk about Kim Haejun.”

 

“You started it—”

 

“Dongkwon. F*ck, just because I’ve been laughing along with you doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

 

“…….”

 

“This is my last warning. Don’t talk about Kim Haejun. I told you not to, so f*cking don’t. Let’s not cross the line.”

 

“…….”

 

I watched the guy scowl and slam the door as he left.

 

“Ah. Do a good job at the script reading today. Don’t go getting owned by Lee Unha.”

 

Those were his parting words.

 

‘That bastard, seriously. I’m already pissed off, so why come here just to stir things up? If nothing else, I’m leaving this damn group because of that piece of trash.’

 

“…….”

 

‘I’m definitely leaving. Renewing the contract? Not even if I die. F*ck.’

 

Of course, that was a story for the distant future. There was a lot of time left on his contract, and in reality, he wasn’t in a position to leave [TOP9] and stand on his own yet. That was because they were heading down the path of a so-called failed idol group. It wasn’t as if they had no fandom—they were still scraping by, selling albums and holding video call fan signs and regular fan sign events—but after all the money that had been poured into them, they still hadn’t even received their first settlement.

 

‘My life is so screwed up. It wasn’t supposed to end up like this.’

 

It was obvious that if he left [TOP9] in his current state, no one would even remember the name Beta. In fact, he’d be lucky to even get a contract offer from elsewhere. The most likely future awaiting Seo Dongkwon, [TOP9]’s Beta, was leaving the entertainment industry altogether because no company wanted him.

 

That was why this project was more important than anything. Frankly speaking, the fact that he’d landed this role at all was practically a miracle.

 

A 12-episode drama serviced by Jackflix, the world’s largest OTT platform; the investment was astronomical, and the actors working on it were famous. The director was easily among the top ten in Korea, and due to the nature of OTT, global distribution was already scheduled. It was a work practically destined for great success.

 

At least, that was the picture he’d painted in his head. After passing the audition, he’d indulged in every possible fantasy. He imagined receiving all kinds of attention after joining [Zombie], growing from a supporting role to a lead, and firmly establishing himself as an actor. He imagined that after filming ended, love calls would pour in from everywhere, and instead of wandering around for auditions, scripts would just land on his lap while he sat still.

 

He hadn’t thought it would even be that difficult. The acting academy he attended while promoting had classified him as a talented individual, and the company believed those words and was pushing Seo Dongkwon as an actor.

 

But….

 

“…….”

 

Things were supposed to go that way…

 

‘But who is this guy now?’

 

The pictures he’d painted for himself were rendered useless before he could even lay out the canvas. Or rather, it had become hopelessly tangled.

 

‘F*ck… does this make any sense?’

 

How is another rookie actor debuting with a paycheck like that?

 

‘Acting idol? Acting genius? Isn’t acting basically all the same anyway?’

 

What the hell was YM doing to negotiate such a pathetic salary for me? And who the hell is this guy to be this ridiculously overvalued?

 

As he silently swallowed his frustration, the door opened. He thought that obnoxious brat was coming back to rile him up again, but it wasn’t.

 

Reflected in his eyes was a very familiar face. A loud voice burst out reflexively. The irritation he had been bottling up exploded in an instant.

 

“Ah, hyung! I told you not to come in when I’m reading my script! I’m sensitive when I’m studying! Seriously!”

 

“Huh? Oh? Sorry. B-But….”

 

“Why?! What now?! But what!”

 

“We… we have to head out for the script reading soon….”

 

“What? We’re leaving already?”

 

“I told you we were going to stop by the salon briefly for the making-of video, Dongkwon.”

 

“What are you talking about? Nobody told me that.”

 

“No, I definitely told you yesterday….”

 

“Ah, whatever. I get it. Let’s go. I’ll get ready.”

 

“Uh… oh? Okay….”

 

“…….”

 

“…….”

 

“But hyung, is Lee Unha’s salary really true?”

 

“Well, I don’t know either. But… well… isn’t it likely true?”

 

“Damn it, this pisses the f*ck out of me…  Why does he get so much while I’m acting for pennies? Isn’t this a bit weird?”

 

“It’s not necessarily a bad thing… Dongkwon.”

 

“How is it not a bad thing? Doesn’t this mean the company is incompetent? [YM] was the one who set my fee this low. Look at what <The World> is doing. Is this right? Do you really think this is right, hyung?”

 

It would be strange not to feel it was unfair.

 

It would be strange if anger didn’t boil up.

 

Surely anyone would be angry.

 

He thought the debut of idol Beta as actor Seo Dongkwon would receive all the attention, but now everyone seemed to have forgotten he was even in the project. Everyone had already forgotten. No one mentioned or looked at Seo Dongkwon. Well, they were mentioning him—by comparing him to <Fantasia>’s Lee Unha.

 

Threads were swarming about how that guy’s acting was this way and Seo Dongkwon’s acting was that way. The <Fantasia> fandom had even caught onto this, and posts like ‘Same debut, different vibe’ were floating around.

 

Simply put, he was being mocked. Sure, Lee Unha’s enormous salary was drawing criticism, but from the standpoint of raising his profile, he’d achieved a successful—no, unprecedented—acting debut.

 

‘F*ck, seriously….’

 

And yet his clueless manager just kept parroting that everything would be fine, completely oblivious to what was actually wrong, so how could he not feel frustrated?

 

“No, no. Think about it, Dongkwon. Do you think the company is just sitting still? Right now, Lee Unha’s public opinion isn’t good.”

 

“…….”

 

“People resent him because of that salary. And what do you think the other actors are going to feel? Do you think they’ll look at Lee Unha favorably?”

 

“…….”

 

“You just have to prove yourself. If you prove it through your acting, public opinion can flip in an instant. All you need is for people to think, ‘Lee Woonha got paid that much and that’s all he can do? Seo Dongkwon is getting paid this little and acts great.’ That’s enough.”

 

“Mmm….”

 

“If public opinion forms that Lee Unha is overrated compared to his ability… the spotlight will come back to you, Dongkwon.”

 

“I… I guess you’re right.”

 

“First… first… let’s do a good job with today’s schedule. Get through the script reading first, then we’ll climb step by step. At our own pace.”

 

He found himself nodding.

 

“Fine. F*ck, I’ll trample Lee Unha, hyung.”

 

He saw the manager hyung wearing a bitter smile.

 

‘Right. I’ll step on you no matter what it takes. F*ck.’

 

He felt like his suppressed anger was right on the verge of exploding. His mind was consumed by a single thought: he would pour every ounce of that fury into his acting.