Debuting by Riding the Returnee’s Bus Chapter 59

“I get the situation.”

 

“Right?”

 

“They’re asking for all the good parts, aren’t they?”

 

“Something like that.”

 

I nodded at Kim Taeyeol’s question.

 

No. 98 nodded back as if he completely understood. It made sense that he would. Part distribution was an extremely sensitive issue for anyone making a living in this industry, whether they were debuted idols or trainees.

 

Even idols who had already debuted and were assigned perfectly fitting parts by producers still got stressed over part distribution. So, it went without saying that the part distribution within this Idol Classism was a nightmare.

 

There were no producers here, no staff members to offer advice, and no managers to soothe the stressed members. They had to argue, fight, discuss, and divide the parts entirely among themselves, so it would have been stranger if conflicts didn’t happen.

 

Judging by his reaction, it looked like No. 98’s team was going through the same thing.

 

‘Come to think of it…’

 

The Slave Class mission and the Dark Mage mission were rather unusual cases. In the first mission, because there was no time and everyone was out of their minds, I had handled everything one-sidedly under a one-man leadership. And for the Dark Mage mission, I had reached a smooth agreement with Joo Wooyoung.

 

It was also undeniably true that back then, the trainees were still clumsy and hadn’t realized how they would be portrayed on broadcast, so my arbitrary distribution worked.

 

In other words….

 

‘From now on, everyone’s going to get a lot more sensitive.’

 

The trainees who realized they weren’t getting any screen time would become greedier, while those who were getting screen time would become even more determined to protect their current positions.

 

After letting out a small sigh, I opened my mouth, but he responded immediately.

 

“Is your group’s situation serious too, hyung?”

 

“Serious doesn’t even cover it. Our team fought like crazy. We’re still fighting now. I wish someone would just step in and mediate, but no luck. When the cameras aren’t rolling, everyone’s at each other’s throats during meetings.”

 

“So everyone’s the same.”

 

“Seems so. Anyway, you’re having a tough time too.”

 

“I don’t mind the hard work. I’m just worried the results won’t match the effort… that’s my concern.”

 

“Cut the act, for f*ck’s sake… You’re basically guaranteed a spot in the debut group even if you do nothing from now on.”

 

The chances were probably high, but…

 

‘But that doesn’t mean I can just sit back and relax.’

 

Idol Classism was a place where several people could swing between rock bottom and paradise in a single day, so I couldn’t afford to be complacent. A character pulling the program along like this could be used and then discarded, or I could get caught up in an unexpected incident.

 

Just as I was about to get up, thinking I had spent a surprisingly long time with No. 98, a familiar voice called out from afar.

 

“Un—Unha!! Huff… huff… huff… There you are.”

 

‘Ah, seriously.’

 

No. 123.

 

‘Do you seriously have separation anxiety or something?’

 

It was Jung Taehee.

 

‘There’s seriously something a little off about this guy.’

 

He looked like he had already searched the practice room, as he was drenched in sweat while staring at me and No. 98.

 

“Huff… You said you were going to the practice room.”

 

His tone was almost accusatory, which was only made it more bewildering. Of course, if I had done something wrong, I could admit it, but to be blunt, we hadn’t made a formal promise; we had simply ended up taking different routes.

 

‘Aren’t you overreacting a little?’

 

Yes, it was certain that he was overreacting. I wanted to snap back at him, but….

 

I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I found myself making excuses.

 

“Ah, I-I was going to… but I ran into hyung on the way, so we were talking for a bit. While having breakfast….”

 

“Unha, don’t you usually skip breakfast?”

 

“No, well, Hyung said… anyway, Taehee, why did you come here? To eat?”

 

“Huh? Oh… no, I came to find you, Unha….”

 

“You didn’t really need to come looking for me. Why? Are the hyungs calling? Are they all gathered already?”

 

“No… it’s just… because you said you’d wait in the practice room.”

 

“Ah, right. My bad.”

 

“You don’t really… need to be sorry….”

 

“Anyway, I was just about to go. Hyung, I’ll be off now.”

 

“Yeah. See you in a bit. You too, Taehee.”

 

“Yes.”

 

No. 98 also looked at No. 123 with a slightly odd expression, but he didn’t seem willing to show it. Unlike the others, Taehee was a peculiar guy, and I could feel No. 98’s resolve not to poke the hornet’s nest.

 

“Sorry, Unha. It looked like you were having an important conversation, and I just came barging in….”

 

“Come on, if anything, I’m the one who should be sorry.”

 

Still, he was a good kid.

 

‘At the very least, he doesn’t have any bad intentions.’

 

He wasn’t gloomy, either.

 

‘I don’t know if I’m just biased….’

 

But compared to the Elder Duo, he was practically cute. Of course, calling the Elder Duo vicious villains was also a stretch. There had been the issue over choosing the song, but that had been decided by majority vote… and, honestly, the duo hadn’t actually caused any major disasters. Strictly speaking, they were just a little calculating.

 

Honestly, maybe calling them calculating was just my own prejudice. Given the anxiety and urgency they must feel from not being noticed, it was understandable they’d do whatever it took to get attention.

 

I would have done the same. That wasn’t what I was criticizing.

 

The problem was that they were directly harming the team. This wasn’t about bickering like Kim Haejun and Jung Taehee; it was about directly affecting the performance and the mission.

 

To be honest….

 

‘The extras need to cut down their own parts.’

 

I was including myself in that statement.

 

‘The vocals should be given over 70% to Jung Taehee, and the rap should be pushed to Kim Haejun.’

 

I knew the Elder Duo weren’t lacking in skill after spending so many years as trainees, but even someone with an untrained ear could hear the difference between Jung Taehee and Kim Haejun versus the Elder Duo. This wasn’t a situation where the elders could afford to be greedy for vocals.

 

As I entered the practice room with Jung Taehee, I saw them practicing the main parts intensely, even though the parts hadn’t been decided yet. It was as if they were shouting for someone to notice how hard they were working.

 

I remembered yesterday being much the same. After Saturday’s broadcast, they’d become even more determined not to give an inch. Their screen time in the Friday broadcast had been practically non-existent, and the Saturday broadcast ended as a Lee Unha one-man show, so they were under immense pressure to do something on this stage.

 

“Oh. Come over here, Taehee, Unha.”

 

“Did we come a little late?”

 

“No, not at all.”

 

“Do you want to listen to this?”

 

‘This is uncomfortable….’

 

I wasn’t sure if it was the right way to describe it, but it felt as though goodwill was being forced upon us. It felt as though they were pressuring us—Lee Unha, Kim Haejun, and Jung Taehee—to step aside for them since we already had plenty of screen time and were in the safe zone.

 

They were justifying their own greed through that, and we were being forced into a position where we had to yield.

 

Even the soft-hearted Kim Haejun seemed to be in a very awkward spot. They hadn’t even properly begun yet, and people were already lobbying him for parts, so there was no way he could produce the track as he wished. And it also seemed like he still hadn’t completely gotten past what had happened with Taehee.

 

“Ah. For now….”

 

I looked around and took in the view of the practice room.

 

Number 12 Kim Haejun was waving with a somewhat awkward smile; on either side of him, the Elder Duo were stuck to him, practicing parts that hadn’t even been assigned; No. 123 Jung Taehee still looked uncomfortable around Kim Haejun; and finally, I saw myself in the mirror, standing there blankly like a background prop.

 

I turned my head and saw other trainees, but I didn’t pay them much mind. Everyone was busy doing their own thing… and more importantly, the cameras were rolling.

 

The director was following Kim Haejun and Jung Taehee, clearly wanting to capture their awkward relationship, and I saw staff members helping trainees mic up the moment they arrived.

 

By now we’d all grown accustomed to this kind of life, to the point where nobody even paid attention to the staff anymore. It felt just like any other day.

 

I found myself biting my lip slightly. I didn’t want today to end without accomplishing anything. It was a difficult topic to bring up in front of the cameras, but….

 

‘It’s better to just bring this out into the open.’

 

I couldn’t keep letting myself get dragged around like this. Whether directly or indirectly, I had to take a firm and resolute stance. I scanned the room.

 

“Haejun hyung, did you sleep well?”

 

“Yeah. You, Unha?”

 

“I slept well too. Did you hyungs all sleep well?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“How’s the arrangement coming along, Haejun hyung?”

 

“It’s almost done. Probably by the end of today….”

 

“Didn’t you say you had something you’d worked on before?”

 

“Yeah. I did, but….”

 

“Other teams are already getting into it… I think we need to start too. So, about that… I think we need to settle the part issue clearly today. I suspect the reason you can’t focus properly on the work is because of that issue, hyung.”

 

“I think Unha is right.”

 

‘Please, just be quiet for a second.’

 

“By trying to accommodate each and every member of our team, more work keeps getting added on and on. A producer shouldn’t accommodate the members; the members should accommodate the producer. I think it’s only right that we give Haejun hyung full authority and let him control everything.”

 

“That’s….”

 

“You shouldn’t let yourself be swayed either, hyung. We’re in a situation where we can’t afford to consider everyone’s personal circumstances. This is a competition. We’re competing against other groups who are preparing the same stage with the same song. Whatever the case, we have to prepare properly. There wasn’t any advance announcement, but we also have to consider the possibility that the losing team in the competition could be eliminated. There might even be benefits we don’t know about.”

 

They probably had nothing to say to that. I didn’t think I’d look like an unreasonable person just because I brought it up. What I was saying was simply too logical.

 

If I’d insisted that everyone follow my directions, there probably would’ve been some resistance. But since I was suggesting that we follow Kim Haejun, who had naturally taken the producer role, they had no ground to complain.

 

I was a bit concerned about Jung Taehee, who looked slightly uncomfortable with the idea of giving No. 12 full authority… but fortunately, Taehee didn’t seem to care that much.

 

Just as I was thinking I’d expressed myself well enough and looked around the room again,

 

I caught sight of the Elder Duo wearing expressions that looked almost resentful.

 

They were definitely resenting me—Lee Unha. They looked like they were holding back curses.

 

‘Am I the selfish one?’

 

“…….”

 

‘I honestly don’t understand… why I’m the one being resented.’

 

“…….”

 

‘Am I really being selfish? Is it really me?’