Debut or Die!

Chapter 3

When the writer practically dragged me to the broadcasting station, I thought she had a lot planned for me—I ended up barely doing anything. She simply had me sit down in front of a camera and do a simple interview. The production team didn’t even ask me to perform a short dance—not even for formality’s sake. And of course, they didn’t advise me to take dance lessons either. This was all just more proof that the role I was expected to play was set in stone already.

Well, it’s a good thing none of that really matters. The only thing that mattered was that my name was now on the list of contestants. There was, however, one thing I hadn’t anticipated—the first day of shooting was much sooner than I had anticipated.

“It’s in ten days?!”

“That’s right. You’re actually joining us at the very last minute. It’s actually very rare that we allow contestants to join so late, so I’d say that you’re quite lucky. I think it’s a sign of just how well suited you are for the position.”

What a nice way of saying I’m just cannon fodder. I thought somewhat bitterly, feeling a little flustered by her words despite myself. I suppose it didn’t hurt them to be nice about it, since it didn’t cost anything to be kind.

Of course, as soon as they realize I have nothing to offer them, they’ll toss me aside. I couldn’t think of another industry that cut ties as fast as this one. Also, expecting someone straight off the street to prepare an audition song and be ready to start filming within ten days was simply ridiculous. They acted like none of their requests were a big deal, but if I was a contestant signed with an agency, there would have been some complaints.

They didn’t give a crap about whether I had a backing track or an instrumental—they just expected me to give a horrible performance and be hated on by the viewers at home. And if the judges didn’t curse me out, I’d just be edited out completely. It didn’t matter though, because I had expected this to happen.

“I see… Thank you.” I nodded as if I didn’t suspect a thing, projecting the image that I was nervous about filming since it was just around the corner.

Satisfaction flashed across the writer’s face before she could contain it. “We’re the ones who should be thanking you. Anyway, I’ll send the rest of the details you’ll need later.”

I was being dismissed and I didn’t hesitate to leave the broadcasting station behind, already mentally sketching out my plans for the next ten days. Since there was very little time left, I would have to resort to some extreme methods.

***

An extremely busy ten days passed and before long it was already the day of the first shoot. Like most other survival audition shows, the first evaluations were of the contestants’ individual performances. And so began the first round of screening.

Anyone familiar with idol survival shows would already know this, but it’s not uncommon that a contestant’s first impression would follow them until the end of the show. The worst thing anyone who lacked a special talent could do would be to give a merely satisfactory performance. It would be much better to completely fail and make a fool of yourself—depending on the editing, they may use that initial failure to weave a narrative showing how much you’ve grown throughout the show.

However, if I failed to make any impression at all on the judges and got edited out completely, my situation would be bleak. Of course, that didn’t mean I was hoping for the viewers to hate me.

“Everyone remembers their numbers, right? Contestants will be called in order by number. When you are called, please come out into the hallway.”

The shoot had begun with a staged scene featuring each of the contestants walking down the hallway one by one. The clip was only going to be used in a forty-second teaser promo, but we’d already been filming for over two hours. This was understandable though since there were seventy-seven contestants in total.

Everyone’s so young. Seeing the faces of the contestants as they sat scattered around the backstage waiting room, my enthusiasm faded a little. No matter how much I told myself I was a time traveler with a status window only I could see, I slowly began to feel embarrassed, sitting amongst all these young kids and trying to become an idol.

“Excuse me, hi.” One of the contestants, who had been striking up conversations here and there, approached me.

I wasn’t sure if he was just really excited, or if he was trying to get on people’s good sides. It was worth noting that he looked young enough to be in middle school. I couldn’t believe I was about to introduce myself to a middle-school kid to build connections, especially at my age.

“Did you apply on your own?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, cool. So did I. By the way, may I ask how old you are…?”

“I’m twenty.” It felt weird lying about my age by nine years, but it also felt a little good.

“Are you with an agency?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, I see! A lot of the contestants from the previous seasons of ‘Idol Inc.’ left their agencies before coming on the show. So were you with one before…?”

“No, I’ve never been signed with an agency.”

“Oh… I see.” And with that, the middle school brat instantly lost interest in me. He quickly ended our conversation and went off to find someone else to talk to. Seeing as he already seemed to have a good understanding of the way the industry worked, he had the potential to go far. Of course, he’d have to conceal that calculative mind from the cameras first, but that was none of my business.

In any case, my encounter with the middle school kid proved one thing—the competition was bloodthirsty. I wondered if my judgment had been impaired after getting caught up in this bizarre situation—choosing to come on this show might have been a mistake. Well, there was no use crying over spilled milk.

“All right, everyone. Let’s move to the set!”

They were finally starting to film the actual show. I followed the crowd of middle schoolers huddled together like a gang of meerkats, and waited for my turn beside the main stage, where the initial screening was being held. My name was called somewhere around the middle.

***

“Contestant Lee Sejin B, you’ve ranked… fifteenth place! Please take a seat over there.”

“Thank you!” One of the contestants bowed his head upon hearing the emcee’s words. He was one of the four contestants that were being evaluated together since they were all from the same agency. Even though he was the best of the four, the production team didn’t look pleased.

He’s too over the top, thought writer Ryu Seorin, scowling as she twirled her pen.

The funding for season 3 was comparatively less than that of previous seasons. This was to be expected since season 3 had barely been allowed to air after the colossal failure that was season 2. Going so far as to adopt the absurd subtitle, “Relisted,” the production team had fought tooth and nail to redeem themselves from the disgrace that was the previous season.

However, no matter how hard they had tried to bolster the show through personal connections and planning, there were some things they couldn’t do anything about, and one of those things was the talent pool available to them.

Most candidates who had received adequate training had already joined other audition shows. “Idol Inc.” needed seventy-seven contestants in total, and to fill that quota the show had ended up with a large number of trainees that were lacking in actual talent. If there were way too many incompetent contestants, the magic of editing could only do so much to make the show entertaining.

Besides, when it came to Korean audition shows, helping an inept contestant to gain popularity was an impossible task. If you tried to cover up a contestant’s lack of skills, one small mistake and the show would drown under an endless wave of criticism. Courting controversy was honestly a good thing in their field, but the trick was to avoid keywords like “boring” and “fraudulent.”

Their one reassurance was that “Idol Inc.” had managed to secure all the top-tier contestants they had been hoping to recruit. Still, it was difficult to film the show without a dark horse contestant.

This kid is a prime example of the problem. The contestant coming on stage was a complete amateur who had been added to the show just ten days before the first shoot. Seorin had little hope for him since he had been recruited to replace one of the contestants who had been disqualified for drunk driving days before the shoot.

What was his name again…? I suppose he’ll introduce himself when the judging begins. The contestant had a moderately good voice and wasn’t that bad looking either. He also had a backstory that would make good TV if they needed it. Because of that, he had surpassed Seorin’s relatively low standards, which had been made that way by urgent circumstances.

But even with all those merits combined, he was still only barely better than a random nobody off the street. Well… I suppose we could compare the other contestants to him. The other judges already appeared uninterested and were chatting with each other after skimming through his application form, in which nothing stood out, particularly except for his family history.

Seorin thought to herself, I actually hope that he makes a complete fool of himself. That way, the audience will get fired up. The viewers would get bored if they continued to only see mediocre contestants, but if several of them were to do ridiculously badly it would make the show more entertaining. That’s why people often said all publicity was good publicity.

Since this contestant was a non-trainee who had prepared his performance by himself in just ten days, there was a good chance he’d do so badly that it was funny. Seorin glanced at the stage, her expectations low.

“Next contestant, please come up to the stage!”

The amateur contestant made his way up the steps to stand before the judges. Thankfully, it seemed as if he’d managed to find a decent hair salon to style his hair because he was looking better than the last time she’d seen him. The problem was that he had a particular aura about him that suggested he was either bored or melancholy.

When I first saw him, I thought it was because we talked about his family background. I can’t believe he still exudes that energy even with all these cameras on him.

In actuality, the only reason he seemed so unbothered was because he was used to seeing swarms of cameras from his days working as a paparazzo. However, Seorin, who had no way of knowing this, found him a little odd.

Is he the stoic type who doesn’t show his nerves? Not that it mattered. All she had to do was to present him as incompetent, yet arrogant. Seorin contemplated her plans for him with renewed enthusiasm.

Upon arriving on stage, the young man listened to the emcee politely.

“Yes, so. Could you please introduce yourself?”

“I’m Park Moondae. Pleased to meet you.” And with that, he bowed his head. The judges snorted to themselves quietly.

“Wait, is that it?” asked one of the male judges, chuckling into the microphone in his hand. He had asked the question with a slight sneer. What the judge meant was that he expected him to introduce himself with more detail, but Park Moondae only nodded sincerely.

“Yes, I don’t have any other experience in this field that is worth talking about.”

The judges burst into laughter.

“Geez, this one’s really something!”

“Hilarious.”

Several of the judges whispered softly while making sure everything they said was picked up by the microphone.

“Oh, looking at his application form, he really doesn’t have any experience.”

“Indeed.”

Normally, this was about the time the judges would ask something like, “So why did you decide to join this competition?” But they must have all thought it would be more dramatic if they asked after his performance, so no such question came, which made Seorin think that maybe something usable might come from this audition after all.

“Well, then. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“All right.”

With the malicious glee of a vulture circling its prey, everyone watched the contestant as he took the microphone handed to him by the staff. Soon, the intro of the song started playing, only for everyone to be immediately surprised by the familiar beat.

Why would he pick this song?!