Debuting by Riding the Returnee’s Bus Chapter 50

The situation was precarious, to the point where it seemed like tears would spill over at any moment if he let his guard down for even a second. Even though the boy was on the verge of crying, the cameras remained tightly focused on him. It was a clear attempt to capitalize on the incident that had occurred earlier.

 

‘Th… this makes me feel a little guilty.’

 

I couldn’t help but feel a surge of guilt toward No. 123, who had thrown himself into the fray for my sake. Setting aside the overall atmosphere, I hadn’t expected Jung Taehee to be this deeply shocked.

 

Of course, I had previously mentioned that I would pick Kim Haejun as a teammate, but that was before this whole mess started. Jung Taehee was likely certain that I was going to choose him. Given that Kim Haejun had just been involved in a major controversy and Taehee had personally fought—and been hit—to defend me, his expectations must have been through the roof.

 

But then, despite everything that happened, I chose Kim Haejun. How could he possibly keep it together? Especially since we were close friends and roommates, this must have hit him twice as hard.

 

I didn’t even need to look at Taehee’s reaction; the reactions of the trainees around him said it all. They knew how much Taehee had been looking forward to this.

 

‘I’m starting to feel way too guilty….’

 

[Trainee No. 112 Lee Unha of the <Commons> class has welcomed Trainee No. 12 Kim Haejun of the <Commons> class as his teammate through the rank mission follower benefit.]

 

‘I get it already, so stop repeating it.’

 

[The remaining teammates will be selected at random.]

 

Fortunately, it didn’t take long for the buzzing atmosphere to settle. While the drama between Lee Unha, Kim Haejun, and Taehee was important, the immediate priority for the trainees was finding out which team they would land in.

 

Immediately after:

 

“Waaaaahhhhh!”

 

“Wooo!”

 

Starting with some forced reactions, the names of the trainees began to appear one by one on the large screen.

 

It wasn’t just the other trainees paying attention. Kim Haejun, who looked genuinely surprised that I had actually picked him, and Taehee, who was still on the verge of tears, both clasped their hands and stared at the screen. I was just as focused.

 

‘This is important.’

 

Indeed. This mission was critical. In a way, it was the most important mission we’d had so far. It was the first mission that involved viewer voting, and it pitted us directly against the Nobility class. Depending on who ended up on your team, you could either crash and burn or unexpectedly leave a strong impression on the viewers.

 

Moreover…

 

‘The broadcast crew will be putting their heart and soul into this.’

 

The preparation period would be at least seven or fourteen days, maybe even longer. Considering that only the first episode had aired so far, that made sense.

 

Idol Classism was scheduled twice a week, on Fridays and Saturdays. The first episode had aired last Saturday, and this coming Friday…

 

‘They’ll probably show the Slave class mission… up until the Slave Auction.’

 

Saturday’s broadcast would likely cover the rest of the auction and the countdown to Team Joo Wooyoung’s [Territory War]. If the pacing was fast, we might even see the Dark Mage performance.

 

I didn’t know exactly how they’d split the footage, but since I heard there would be real-time voting and a live audience, it was time to align the broadcast schedule with the actual timeline. That meant they’d inevitably have to include a stage that required a long preparation period.

 

That stage would likely be this mission: [Citizen Revolution].

 

‘The quality has to be top-notch… and from a storytelling standpoint, this is where the Commons class needs to finally make a statement. They’ll probably have a lot of things to adjust.’

 

“…….”

 

‘It’s a smart move to switch to viewer voting right as the Citizen Revolution starts… they’ll be extra careful with this. They won’t want the revolution to end in failure.’

 

Of course, that was the TV station’s problem, but there was nothing for us to lose if the show’s quality turned out well. It was the story of the Commoner class, which had been overshadowed by the Nobility and Slaves until now, and I just happened to belong to this class.

 

Amidst these complex thoughts, Team Lee Unha’s first member was decided. The name appeared in large letters on the screen.

 

The first one was…

 

[Trainee No. 66 Jeon Hocheol of the <Commons> class]

 

‘Hmm… No. 66.’

 

An older trainee with a rather colorless, unremarkable presence. At twenty-five, he was effectively the oldest trainee participating in Idol Classism. His dancing was fine, and his singing was fine too, but he lacked a distinct spark. It might sound harsh, but he was the kind of trainee that made you understand why he’d never managed to debut.

 

That was a bit disappointing, but the second member was a great draw. No. 123 appeared on the screen immediately.

 

[Trainee No. 123 Jung Taehee of the <Commons> class]

 

‘123! It’s Taehee!’

 

I glanced back, and the boy who had been in deep depression just moments ago was already sprinting toward me.

 

“Taehee!”

 

“Unha!”

 

He was so happy that he rushed in mindlessly, forcing me to give him an awkward smile as we hugged.

 

“I’m sorry. You were really hurt, wasn’t it? I’ll explain everything later.”

 

“No… it’s fine. If it’s you, Unha, there must have been a reason. Anyway, I’m so glad we ended up in the same group. I was so worried about what I’d do if we weren’t together this time…. I guess we were destined to be on the same team after all!”

 

“I know! I’m really glad it turned out this way.”

 

“Me too!”

 

The cameras were rolling, so I was wearing my practiced smile, but it wasn’t a fake one.

 

‘Taehee… of course I want Taehee.’

 

His dancing was a bit on the weaker side, but he was unquestionably a main vocalist. It wasn’t just that he could sing well—his vocal tone was excellent, and he also had a very wide vocal range.

 

Even his self-introduction stage only failed because he sabotaged himself with nerves; it wasn’t a performance that deserved to land him in the Slave class. On top of that, he had readily supported the opinions I put forward and helped give them credibility, so it would have been strange for me to dislike him.

 

‘We’ve worked together once already. The familiarity is a huge factor.’

 

I secretly hoped the Hopeless Trio No. 98, 45, 78 or even the muscular No. 141 would join us, but unfortunately, the other trainees I had my eye on were being assigned to other groups.

 

And then…

 

[Trainee No. 17 Na Younghun of the <Commons> class]

 

‘No. 17?’

 

The next one was Trainee No. 17.

 

‘Another older guy.’

 

No. 17 was 24 years old. Unlike No. 66, he wasn’t colorless. He was a trainee who had climbed up from the Slave class, and if I remembered correctly, he’d done a pretty good job taking on the role of the eldest member. He was a solid main vocal line with decent dancing, making him a fairly good teammate to have.

 

The only problem was that his style was a bit old-fashioned. He used some strange vocal techniques I’d only seen in old videos, which, frankly, wasn’t to my taste.

 

There were teams of six, but Team Lee Unha ended with five members. My overall impression was…

 

‘It’s… decent.’

 

The duo of 66 and 17 were the types of trainees who would reliably pull their own weight. I was happy to have avoided the real landmines scattered among the trainees, but realistically, I wasn’t thrilled that the addition of the two oldest members gave the team a slightly old-fashioned vibe.

 

I wondered for a second why age mattered so much… but in this market, it was a very important factor.

 

Here, being 24 or 25 made you quite—no, extremely—old. Even worse if they hadn’t finished their mandatory military service yet. Of course, it wasn’t as though idols had never debuted at that age before, but success stories were far from common. Maybe I felt that way because the industry as a whole kept skewing younger and younger, but honestly… it wasn’t an exaggeration to say it was almost hopeless for them.

 

They probably understood that themselves. They were witnessing their peers either debut, pivot to acting, or give up entirely and return to a normal life. The fact that they still hadn’t let go meant they had a lot of lingering regrets.

 

‘Well… doing a stage together is fine. It’s not like we’re debuting together… and I have 12 and 123 on the team… I just need to smooth things over and lead everyone along.’

 

I shifted my gaze to No. 66 and 17. Naturally, their faces were flushed with excitement. Realizing that Idol Classism was their last ticket to a debut, they couldn’t help but be overjoyed. It felt a little embarrassing to say it myself… but my teammates were all considered very promising trainees, so their excitement was understandable.

 

There was Lee Unha, whose stock was at an all-time high. Then there was No. 12 Kim Haejun, a talented composer and rapper, despite the current controversy. And finally, the main vocal, No. 123 Taehee.

 

Taehee was a bit of a wildcard, but Lee Unha and Kim Haejun were almost guaranteed for the debut group. They were probably thinking that being grouped with us could earn them a boost in the viewer voting if luck was on their side.

 

‘Everyone’s thinking the exact same thing.’

 

When our eyes met, I gave them a small smile, and sure enough, 66 and 17 approached with grins. It was time for the awkward first introductions.

 

“Hello.”

 

“Hi.”

 

“Oh, hey.”

 

“I really enjoyed your stage, hyung!”

 

“Ah… really? Thanks.”

 

“Anyway, uh… yeah. We’re working together now. Nice to meet you, Unha. We’re in the same space but it’s been hard to meet… I really wanted to talk to you at least once, and now we’re on the same team. And Taehee… and Haejun too….”

 

“Yes. Let’s work hard together to make a great stage.”

 

“Y-yeah….”

 

‘Yeah. These hyungs aren’t actually the problem.’

 

The real problem was No. 12 and No. 123, who were still facing each other awkwardly. Kim Haejun looked like he wanted to apologize to Taehee after realizing his past mistakes, but Taehee wouldn’t even look at him.

 

He was so blatantly and consciously only looking at me and talking to me that I was getting embarrassed. This was with the cameras rolling, too.

 

After a moment of silence, Taehee spoke up, pointedly addressing Kim Haejun.

 

“Ah! Haejun hyung. Make sure you take good care of that bracelet. I’m glad the misunderstanding was cleared up… but we can’t have that happening again, can we?”

 

It was unmistakably a pointed remark.

 

The older duo looked stunned by the comment, staring at Taehee with their mouths agape.

 

‘Ah… seriously, what’s gotten into you…?’

 

“…….”

 

‘Seriously, what are you doing?’

 

“…….”

 

‘The cameras are rolling. This is bad for your image too.’