Becoming An Idol Wasn’T On My Plan [EN]: Chapter 217

Jang Haejin was in the smoking room again, organizing her schedule while lighting a cigarette. The schedules of all the idols she managed ran through her head as she calculated which concept, project, and broadcast would be most beneficial.

She had given up on dating while working in this industry, and her life consisted of constant overtime, but seeing the shining faces of the celebrities under her care was a comfort.

Her phone vibrated, and she answered the call.

“Gyeongwoo?”

―Yeah, how are you?

“Don’t act like it’s been ages…”

She put a new cigarette in her mouth. Whenever she talked to this guy, she felt like her blood nicotine level was dropping rapidly.

“So, how’s our Donghwa doing?”

―Um… that’s what I’m calling about.

“You’re the one who scouted him by practically begging, remember?”

You’re the one responsible for handling this. Jang Haejin sighed, exhaling smoke. Because of a series of past events, she had gone directly to Jung Gyeongwoo, punched him in the solar plexus, and left him with a single word: repay me someday.

Jung Gyeongwoo somehow got his career recognized and wormed his way into HBS [a broadcasting station] of all places, making her think, ‘Should I kill him?’ but she never expected him to come crawling back like this.

―No, I’m not complaining, Haejin.

“Then what is it?”

―Well, I failed to completely control Donghwa. It doesn’t look like things will go as planned in terms of raising his image as a kind judge.

“Oh my, are you already looking into funeral arrangements?”

―It’s not a bad thing, I’m telling you.

Jung Gyeongwoo muttered with a nervous laugh. Who’s the one who’s serious right now?

―Even though it’s different from what I initially envisioned, it looks like it’ll turn out well.

“You were eloquent last time too.”

―Trust me, this time. I’ll make it so perfect that there won’t be any arguments. After seeing today’s filming, I’m convinced. Even putting our relationship aside, Donghwa is someone who can’t help but come across well.

“What, did something happen?”

―Haha, well…

* * *

“You will be arranging the first group song with me.”

I scanned the faces of the ten or so trainees. I’m so annoyed by this show. Why do they make me do things like this? And even a group song with a hundred people—who came up with that idea?

Besides, I don’t know why they’re making me give the full explanation. Are they trying to build rapport—a relationship of mutual trust—before starting the work?

“This survival show is focused on self-production, so the ten of you here have a higher chance of being in the spotlight. In other words, you also have a higher chance of receiving criticism from your sponsors if you make a mistake. While others will only have their vocal and dance training broadcast, you will also have this part additionally.”

At the word ‘criticism,’ a trainee from a small, independent agency who had done something stupid like illegal sampling swallowed hard. It seems like he’s replaying the nonsense he did during the quality evaluation.

In my opinion, you’re just going to be completely edited out. What crazy PD [production director] would broadcast the scene of someone committing a crime and create their own controversy? …Or would they? There are so few sane people at the broadcasting station that I can’t be sure.

“I believe the ten of you know what kind of process arrangement goes through. Therefore, I will skip the detailed explanation and play the original song and the first verse that I arranged.”

Perhaps they scouted me with this kind of work in mind. I never knew that my ‘reliable professional’ image would screw me over like this.

Of course, according to the contract, I’ll be paid excessively. I just want to play dumb and shout that capitalism is immortal and money is God.

I clicked the mouse, lost in useless thoughts. The original song started playing. Only the melody line flowed out sadly without accompaniment. It’s a hook song focused on the chorus, only thinking about making money. Aiming endlessly for popularity; perhaps that’s why it’s so boring.

“What do you think?”

I asked quietly when the song ended. The trainees who were sitting side by side and humming along instantly froze. Am I that scary? Deep down, I’m still just a country bumpkin.

However, if you ask a question, you have to wait for an answer. It might be awkward to speak in front of the camera. I closed my mouth and quietly watched, and only silence filled the room. Some trainees fidgeted uncomfortably.

And breaking this deep silence, a hand quietly rose. How brave.

“It feels boring.”

I nodded at Eun-gu’s words.

“I feel the same way. Original songs with only melody lines are mostly boring unless they’re really outstanding. This time, here’s what I arranged.”

Before the filming of the idol production workshop even started, I squeezed out the impressions of Ryu Ideun and Seokjun and arranged it.

Since the melody isn’t that outstanding, make the accompaniment flashy. Make it exciting just by listening to it. Make it reminiscent of summer night fireworks, with popping electronic sounds actively jumping around.

In the meantime, the guide line recorded with Lukachi’s senior’s voice naturally blended in. As expected of someone from Ilgun [a famous music production company], his skills are amazing.

“How is it this time? For reference, I will refuse flattery. Criticism is welcome. Please give me your opinions.”

Putting out creative work means being willing to accept criticism if there’s a basis for it. But of course, everyone only said it was good or that it felt full and complete. Oh dear, how unfortunate.

And again, a hand rose with great tension and anxiety, trembling.

“Yes, trainee Eun-gu.”

“It’s too, um, just intense, I think. Even in the pre-chorus, taking a break once would be easier to listen to…”

He trailed off, perhaps shrinking back from the gazes pouring in from around him. Hmm, he looks like a squirrel. I should call him Squirrel from now on.

Other trainees glanced at me with uneasy eyes at Park Eun-gu’s words. They seem to be preparing for an imminent volcanic eruption. But unfortunately, I’m an extinct volcano. Why else would I be a mental health professor?

If I had the kind of mentality to get angry over something like that, I wouldn’t have agreed to appear on this show. It’s a show where you’re bound to clash with people.

I raised an involuntary smile to my lips. The trainees widened their already large eyes, perhaps seeing this side of me for the first time.

“That’s accurate.”

At my words, Park Eun-gu, who had pointed it out, was surprised and let out a strange groan, ‘Heup.’

“So, if you fix that, it becomes like this.”

I ignored all reactions and clicked the mouse. After passing the same beginning, I took the power out of the pre-chorus as Park Eun-gu suggested, providing time to prepare for the splendid explosion in the upcoming chorus.

Sighs and regretful voices flowed out from here and there. Everyone seems to have understood that I wanted someone to give me that kind of criticism in the first place. If you don’t say it, it doesn’t mean anything.

“How is it, trainee Park Eun-gu? Does it seem a little better?”

“Heueok.”

At my question, trainee Park Eun-gu nodded his trembling head with difficulty.

“If you guys debut soon and participate in the arrangement process, you need to know how to listen to other people’s opinions, and you also need to know how to disagree with other people’s opinions.”

I smiled at the person who was biting his lip with a squirrel-like expression and continued the rest of my words.

“Like today.”

I showed the trainees a USB.

“All the files I worked on are contained here. The deadline is two days, and you must create a result within that time.”

Since ten people are working on arranging only half of the song, it won’t be an unreasonable schedule.

“I will be coming to check the work process from time to time, so please do your best. For reference, Eun-gu, who passed the sound test we prepared earlier, will be the leader of the arrangement team.”

I handed the USB to Eun-gu. Still trembling, Eun-gu received the USB and hugged it to his chest as if handling a precious object, as if he were enshrining a sacred object.

“Wow, damn… that’s awesome…”

Um, what’s so good about it? What’s so good about being given work? They say that if you get used to the position of a slave, you boast about the material of the handcuffs, is that it?

“Anyway, I’m looking forward to the work.”

* * *

Jung Gyeongwoo conveyed the words in an excited voice.

―His smile is driving people crazy.

“Really?”

―Yeah, if you compare him to an anime or movie character, it’s like that. I thought he was strict, but he properly acknowledges all the effort you put in, like a teacher.

“You need to stop watching anime.”

―No, I just think he’s cool as a person. I wish I had a teacher like that when I was young.

And a short conversation followed. I felt like I could hang up the phone soon, but Jung Gyeongwoo dragged on, saying, ‘Um…’ as if he still had something to say.

“Ah, speak quickly. It’s time for me to get back to work.”

―This is something I want to discuss as a friend.

That means don’t go around blabbing about it. Okay. Jang Haejin understood perfectly.

“Yeah.”

―…There were some strange instructions from above.

“What is it?”

―To edit with a focus on a few kids.

“Um, well, isn’t that common?”

I’m not the type to be an idealist, so I didn’t want to make an issue out of every little thing. Giving favorable edits is originally a common thing, and Jang Haejin has also chosen someone and given them a lot of screen time with her own hands. The most representative beneficiary is Chae Hamin.

―This, the atmosphere is strange.

“Why?”

―…It’s a nuance of asking me to manipulate it even if their performance doesn’t warrant it.

“Oh my god. Are you asking me to tamper with the votes?”

―Yeah. Ha, I can’t even submit my resignation. Right now, I can only hope that they’re included in the people’s voting rights. What should I do, Haejin?

Being a main PD is indeed a huge position, but it’s not a position where you can do everything as you please. It’s a position where you have to do what the higher-ups tell you to do.

Moreover, in a narrow place like a broadcasting station, if you get fired for reasons such as internal whistleblowing or disobedience, rumors spread, making it difficult to find another job. Jang Haejin didn’t know the exact internal situation because she worked for an entertainment company.

“…Do what you think is right. Anyway, knowing your personality, you would have tried your best to stop it, and you will.”

―Well, yeah.

That’s why Jang Haejin gave advice that she could give as a friend.

It’s cool but unrealistic to blow the whistle because you don’t want to get involved in illegal activities. The credit card bills you have to pay right away, living expenses, and a stable job to work in even after that. Giving up all of this and choosing conscience is a difficult thing.

That’s why Jang Haejin thought it wasn’t something someone else should ask you to do.

“And, this is from the perspective of a planner who puts idols on the air.”

And this time, advice as a professional.

“If you do it, just don’t get caught. It’ll backfire.”

―Yeah, I have to. But I’ll try to persuade them as much as possible.

And a moment of silence. The two were probably simultaneously anticipating that persuasion would be difficult. When things like money get involved, all problems become complicated.

Just in case, Jang Haejin looked around to see if anyone had heard. She promised to keep it a secret with her friend, so she would protect him even if a knife was held to her throat.

“Okay, good luck.”

―Yeah, you too.

And Ryu Ideun was listening to this series of conversations. He went to find Jang Haejin and heard that she wasn’t there, so he naturally came to the smoking room and was waiting outside the door because she was on the phone.

He couldn’t hear the other person’s voice, only Jang Haejin’s, but the two syllables ‘manipulation’ clearly caught his ear.

Perhaps it was because he was the best at reading the room within Blossoms and because he usually liked to organize the relationships between people. With just those two words, the general situation was clear in his head.

“Um, what did I hear?”

He smiled slyly, and the scales quickly moved in his head, weighing whether or not it would be good to tell Ji Donghwa about this.