I’m Debuting With The Bias I Killed Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 

The staff member lowered her camera a beat too late, looking flustered.

I reflexively closed the door first. At least when it came to Kang I-yul, I absolutely did not want him to see me like this.

“……Are you okay?”

Instead of answering, I roughly wiped the corners of my eyes with the back of my hand.

I didn’t even need to look in the mirror to know.

‘They must be all swollen.’

An awkward silence filled the hallway.

“Seong-woo.”

The staff member cautiously spoke up.

“Why were you crying?”

My mind started racing.

I couldn’t tell her the truth.

‘Kang I-yul died because of me.’

Who would believe something like that?

“Did something happen?”

The staff member took a step closer.

I drew in a short breath.

“……It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“I just…… wasn’t doing well during practice.”

The staff member’s eyes widened slightly.

The moment I said it aloud, my face burned with embarrassment.

“I want to do well, but–”

After choosing my words for a moment, I finally managed to speak.

“My body… just isn’t cooperating.”

At that moment, the staff member’s expression changed.

She glanced toward the inside of the practice room before turning her gaze back to me.

“So that’s why you stayed behind to practice even after everyone else had gone home?”

I cautiously nodded.

I had been practicing, after all, so I could ignore my prickling conscience to a reasonable degree.

“……Because I wanted to keep watching someone who’s good.”

Of course, this part was completely sincere.

“You’re an unusual one.”

The staff member gave a small smile.

“These days, there aren’t many kids desperate enough to cry just because they can’t practice properly.”

Then she added,

“You really wanted to become an idol.”

……I broke into a cold sweat inwardly.

‘No. The truth is, I want to save him.’

But the words wouldn’t come out.

[SP 1 (+1)]

‘What’s that?’

A new entry had appeared on the status window, separate from Danger Level.

The number didn’t disappear even when I blinked.

“Yeah. Practicing isn’t easy.”

While I was blankly staring into space, the staff member lightly patted my shoulder.

“But you’ll do well.”

Her voice was filled with certainty.

“Kids who are as desperate as you are always end up surviving in the end.”

At the time, I didn’t know.

I had no idea that this one number would become the standard for all my actions from then on.

 

***

 

The next morning.

The moment I opened the practice room door, everyone’s attention turned toward me at once.

“Hey, that’s him.”

“Who?”

“The guy who cried.”

I started stretching as though nothing had happened, but my ears, sharpened by years as a former producer, were unnecessarily good.

“I heard he cried because he couldn’t practice properly.”

“Wow–”

“That’s intense, seriously.”

“Are you secretly crying somewhere too?”

“Fuck off.”

Every time I moved my body, I felt people’s eyes following me.

‘Ha…… This is seriously embarrassing.’

I hadn’t expected yesterday’s incident to spread this far.

I had only cried once, but I had already been branded with an image.

The guy who cries while practicing. The guy who keeps going until he succeeds… and the crazy guy who desperately wants to become an idol.

“Unexpected, seriously.”

“Right?”

I took a sip of water and avoided their gazes.

‘This…… is way too fast.’

It was actually the image I had originally envisioned.

A trainee whose training period is short, but who is more serious about becoming an idol than anyone else.

Street casting and a short training period.

I planned to create a “growth character” by showing an unexpectedly driven side that contrasted with keywords obviously far removed from skill, making it seem as though I improved with every round.

It was the only weapon available to someone as hopelessly clumsy as me.

But the stage had already been set before the survival show even began. The rumor spread quickly not only among the trainees, but among the staff as well.

“I heard he stays in the practice room until they close the doors every day.”

“Wow, so there was another kid like I-yul.”

“But I don’t think even I-yul used to cry while practicing–”

Every time that happened, the mysterious number slowly increased.

[SP 15 (+1)]

[SP 17 (+2)]

Whenever people whispered about me…

[SP 29 (+4)]

“It would’ve been nice if he’d joined a little earlier.”

“Yeah. The survival show is right around the corner.”

“What a shame.”

Whenever people’s gazes lingered on me…

[SP 30 (+1)]

At some point, I had no choice but to realize it naturally.

The more interested people became in me, the more something was accumulating.

Whether positively or negatively, whenever someone showed “interest” in me, the number increased.

I stood in front of the mirror.

The braces that revealed their presence whenever I smiled brightly.

My natural black hair, which had never been dyed even once.

My pale face from not sleeping properly and practicing constantly, contrasted by slightly darker circles under my eyes.

It was the exact face of a “trainee who had never been touched by the industry.”

‘Good.’

The corners of my mouth slowly rose.

Being embarrassed was one thing.

If there was something I could use, I had to use it.

I put down my water bottle.

Then, deliberately making myself look even more diligent, as though I were trying even harder, I moved my body.

[SP 31 (+1)]

‘Interest.’

This was my weapon.

 

***

 

“Jae-seong, convenience store right after practice?”

“Didn’t you say you were dieting?”

Their noisy voices could be heard from outside the door.

I didn’t even need to look.

‘Go Jae-seong and his lackeys.’

I continued stretching.

There was nothing good that could come from getting involved with them for no reason.

But…

“You’re Seong-woo, right?”

In the end, I couldn’t avoid them.

‘Damn it…’

I quickly composed my expression and greeted him.

“Yes. I just joined recently.”

“Speak comfortably. We’re the same age, aren’t we?”

“Ah… yeah.”

His friendly tone and gently curved eyes.

I had noticed it before my regression, too, but this bastard really looked like he had absolutely nothing wrong with him on the surface.

It was like that throughout the survival show. A cheerful, sociable image.

‘That’s why what happened after his debut was even more shocking.’

Go’s fans would even come up with the astonishing logic that “It’s all the fault of the evil agency and the other members.”

“You’re seriously amazing.”

I looked puzzled at his sudden comment.

“Everyone’s already expecting a lot from you, you know? They say your star quality is no joke.”

Laughter broke out around us.

“What star quality~? All because he cried once?”

“I might have to squeeze out some tears myself.”

Go Jae-seong laughed and waved his hand.

“Hey, why are you guys like that? It’s not easy to cry in front of other people, you know?”

“Is that so?”

He lightly tapped me on the shoulder.

“Sorry. You know how guys like to joke around.”

He casually covered everything with laughter. Then he naturally wrapped up the atmosphere.

“Let’s get along from now on. You guys, make sure you treat Seong-woo well too.”

His smile never faltered.

‘As expected.’

This was Go Jae-seong.

He was the one who had started the conversation in the first place, yet he was also the one who wrapped it up at the end, looking like the good guy.

It created a situation where only the person reacting to him ended up looking strange.

But I didn’t give a fuck.

‘I have no intention of debuting with you either, you bastard.’

My goal was only one thing.

Make Go Jae-seong fail the survival show.

I had no time to worry about the other small fry.

At that moment, the sound of dress shoes came from the hallway.

Click, click.

Regular footsteps.

As the sound drew closer, some people hurriedly stood up, while others fixed their hair.

A moment later, the practice room door opened.

A face I had never seen before.

‘Who is that?’

But there was no need to ask.

“Everyone, focus.”

‘Holy shit.’

I could tell who he was from those words alone.

With an extremely low voice that sounded like it came from a cave, he was the “Tiger Manager” whom the IMPACTOR members had been so afraid of.

He had frequently appeared from the survival show all the way through IMPACTOR’s own content, so he was also a familiar figure to the fans.

‘So that’s what he looks like.’

Of course, his face had always been blurred.

“There will be no afternoon classes today.”

He continued speaking while holding a tablet.

“Instead, everyone will be getting a makeover.”

“A make…… over?”

The practice room began buzzing.

“Wow, can we finally cut our hair?”

“Can we get perms too?”

“I’m definitely bleaching mine first.”

Everyone was similar.

Because they didn’t know what hairstyle they would end up with, they had been forced to grow their hair out and couldn’t touch it recklessly.

Today was the day they could finally escape that frustration.

“However–”

The manager looked over the trainees.

Every time his gaze passed over someone, their back straightened.

“How you change will be decided by you yourselves.”

At those words, several eyes lit up.

“Today, you’re deciding what kind of idol you want to look like.”

My hand tightened slightly around the water bottle.

‘A makeover, huh…’

First impressions on the survival show.

The face that would be captured on camera.

The moment of transforming from “Trainee A” into an “idol.”

“You’ll move in two groups.”

The moment the door closed, the practice room became noisy again.

I took a moment to catch my breath and think.

‘This is where the real thing begins.’

The camera would film my face, but ultimately, what viewers remembered was the character.

I pictured the version of myself that would be captured on camera.

 

***

 

After moving to the salon, I quietly looked around amid the excited trainees.

Some of them already had determined expressions.

Eye-catching colors and intense styles; their desire to get on camera before anyone else was obvious.

Then…

“What are you going to do?”

Judging by the fact that I didn’t even remember his name, he was probably an early elimination.

“Black hair.”

“It’s already black.”

“Yes. I’m keeping it as it is.”

A snicker came from his group.

“Ho-jun, why’d you even bother asking him that?”

“As expected, so old-fashioned.”

“Ugh, are you seriously going to keep those braces in too?”

“Yeah, you need to know something about styling before you can dress yourself up.”

“Whatever. We’re starting with one guy eliminated–”

I didn’t bother answering any further.

Instead, I looked in the mirror and fixed my hair.

‘Right. Someone is getting eliminated.’

Who would be doing the eliminating, though?

They’d find out soon enough.

Once I sat down, the designer asked,

“How would you like it?”

“Just trim the bangs a little. Only enough so they don’t cover my face when I dance.”

The designer tilted her head.

“You’re not getting it dyed?”

“No. Instead, I’d like as much treatment as possible. I want my hair texture to show well on camera.”

She smiled and quietly said,

“You have a good eye.”

Of course, someone nearby immediately snorted.

“What’s he planning to win with? His hair texture?”

To me, he was just another nobody.

“Guess he’s aiming for a shampoo commercial instead of a debut.”

“What an idiot.”

Nobody #1, Nobody #2, and Nobody #3 were having a grand old time among themselves, giggling.

‘Which one of us is the idiot?’

The public didn’t want to see a “perfectly styled appearance” from the very beginning.

Especially when it came to survival shows featuring male contestants.

 

↳ What’s with the blonde hair and piercings;;

↳ Holy shit, he’s fucking greasy

↳ Why does he look like a male idol with 10 years of experience?

↳ Seriously, way too much;;

 

If it looked like you had put too much effort into styling yourself, people would actually develop an aversion to you first.

As a fan, I had seen those reactions far too many times.

When it came to survival shows, what you needed wasn’t artificial flashiness.

It was natural likability.

“You finished the fastest. Are you really sure you don’t want anything else done?”

The person in the mirror had barely changed.

Neatly trimmed bangs. 

Glossy black hair.

“It’s perfect. Thank you!”

And I really liked the way I looked.

Then…

“Ha….”

A familiar voice reached me.

Kang I-yul, who had arrived with the later group, was looking at himself in the mirror.

His expression wasn’t particularly good.

‘What’s wrong?’

For some reason, I couldn’t help but worry.

“Should I…… get my hair dyed?”

‘What did you say?’

In an instant, a fluorescent Maltese sprinted through my mind.

“No!”

The salon instantly fell silent.

Everyone’s eyes turned toward me at once.

Kang I-yul also stared at me with a surprised expression.

“……Yes?”

I was screwed.

I had shouted much louder than I’d intended.

I hurriedly continued.

“Absolutely not.”

“……Why?”

His bewildered expression seemed to say it all.

‘Who the hell are you to say that?’