Chapter 116

3,350 words · 17 min read

Chapter 116

The post consisted of a seemingly endless string of images with text overlaid in a large font.

[Have you heard of Onyx?]

[They’re a new idol group that debuted this year.]

Below these words, the group’s sales numbers were written. Their performance was average for a new group that had achieved reasonable popularity—eighty thousand albums sold in the first week, as well as a handful of overseas performances and the like.

[But it’s impossible for Onyx to win Rookie of the Year this year.]

[This is because they debuted the same year as a different group who performed much too well for a fresh-on-the-scene idol group.]

The next image in the post was of TeSTAR receiving an award, their name, and their performance in huge letters. The slide that followed had a biased explanation of what TeSTAR was.

[TeSTAR is a group that was formed on a variety show, not an audition show.]

It went on to describe how much the broadcasting station had involved itself in the creation of Idol Incorporated and how strongly the show had been doctored for entertainment purposes. The post then went on to detail the recent controversy regarding the writer and blasted the editing style, including the titles of various news articles that supported their claims.

[In a word, broadcasters and mass media have come to dictate who succeeds in the music industry.]

The post didn’t miss the opportunity to include a Q&A aimed at deconstructing opposing arguments.

[Q: But there have been plenty of idol audition shows in the past.]

[A: The problem is that this one was an audition variety show. It wasn’t simply coverage of an audition held by an agency, but a show created by the directors and writers of a broadcasting company with the express purpose of entertaining people.]

[Q: But aren’t there plenty of solo artists who debuted from audition variety shows?]

[A: They didn’t debut through the programs themselves. These shows only gave already published artists exposure.]

[Q: There have been lots of projects where groups produced music through variety shows.]

[A: They were not considered candidates for a Rookie of the Year award.]

The infographics then went on to depict a variety of new artists in their struggles.

[These artists must fight against an unjust platform with nothing but their music.]

There was a final image toward the end.

[A this year’s ToneA awards]

[TeSTAR received the Rookie of the Year award as well as three others and were given the stage time to perform four songs.]

[The other rookie groups took home zero awards and weren’t given time to perform a single full song.]

In the background were photos of the other new groups standing and applauding.

[The corporation that funds ToneA is the same one that sponsored the variety show that gave birth to TeSTAR.]

In conclusion, the post quoted the bestselling book The Tyranny of Merit. It referenced reputable sources to give readers the impression that their argument was completely sound. In doing so, they’d slightly altered discourse online.

They argued that the people behind the variety show are invading the music industry. An objective reading of the post would reveal that this was all elaborate nonsense since the performance projects created in variety shows were short-lived and their sole purpose was to be filmed and turned into episodes.

Idol Inc., on the other hand, was created with the express purpose of forming an idol group. The two types of shows were fundamentally different. In addition, the playing field in the idol industry had always been unfair to begin with. Idols always got much more attention and many more opportunities if they were from a bigger agency meaning the starting line was different for every group that debuted.

The problem they’re highlighting isn’t unique to TeSTAR. The issue, however, was that many people were already unhappy with TeSTAR and the recent controversy about the writer along with the questions it raised about fairness meant popular opinion was turning against them.

What was worse, the post had carefully focused on only the issue of the rookie award rather than on TeSTAR themselves, making it a far more palatable read. An argument that no one would normally have cared to read was being accepted because so many people wanted to believe it was true.

- So the fault isn’t with TeSTAR, but the general way things are done. I agree with this post.

└ That’s right. Variety show broadcast stations have grown far too powerful in the music industry

└ The Loviewers were laughing at Onyx for wanting a Rookie of the Year award with only eighty thousand albums sold. That was so mean T_T

- This post is sickening. Why are people taking it so far?

└ Their success is thanks to the variety show. Admit it LOL. You Loviewers need to stop foaming at the mouth and actually read it properly first

- What in the world? The popularity they got from the show ended with their debut album. Their current success is because of how good they are

└ Are you really that hung up over the Rookie of the Year award?

- Huh? All the audition shows are made by directors and writers from variety show broadcasters. It’s not just Idol Inc.

└ Fine. Name an idol audition show that got as much attention and was as similar to a variety show as Idol Inc.

The comments were a mess, with some people agreeing and others arguing the post was nonsense. The gaping difference between opinions only made it all the more popular.

God f*cking damn it. This hadn’t been spear-headed by Onyx fans. They wouldn’t want to make an enemy of the TeSTAR fandom, which was many times bigger than they were. Whoever had made it just wanted to screw us over.

They’re putting this much time and effort into sabotaging us? A lot of work had gone into making these infographics and they’d worked their asses off uploading them all to every social media platform and community site they could. I wondered how much hatred fueled these people. In their shoes, I’d have given up and forgotten about all this before long. Frankly, the whole thing gave me the creeps.

Don’t tell me we’re going to lose the Rookie of the Year awards because of this… This still wasn’t likely to happen though.

They can only take it from us if it becomes big enough news to make it to the front page. Most awards ceremonies couldn’t just offer awards that we justly deserved to another group because of online discourse like this.

They just want to ruin our reputation, hoping that this will wear the fans out enough to make them want to leave. My racing thoughts calmed.

Maybe I’ll have to resort to extreme measures. I’d restrained myself, not wanting anyone to get caught in the crossfire, but this situation was stressing out the fans too much. I didn’t have to sit on the fence about it for too long since an even worse post was soon uploaded.

=======================

[This is from Cheongryeo’s social media account. Does this mean what I think it means?]

: These photos were taken at the ToneA awards. Onyx is in them.

(Screen capture of social media post)

He wants good things for them at the end of the year... Do you guys see what I see?

=======================

The comments were full of VTIC fans telling the poster to stop being absurd, but the fact that someone had uploaded a post pointing this out indicated it was already too late. It was only a matter of time before these theories about the VTIC leaders’ motives would start generating news articles.

What the hell is Cheongryeo’s problem? He’d done this on purpose, the nudge so slight that he could easily make excuses if someone found fault with his actions.

What the hell are you thinking, you bastard? A rush of anger washed over me and I opened my texting app before thinking better of it and exiting out.

I can’t react. Cheongryeo couldn’t take things much further than this, since his fans wouldn’t like it if he got involved in such a sensitive matter. It could also cause unforeseen problems for him later.

He’s just trying to remind me that he’s in control. He was blackmailing me, saying he could screw me over big time if I didn’t tell him everything I knew. I would only make a mess of things if I contacted him now in a fit of anger.

I’ll do it later in a calmer state of mind after we’ve handled this problem. I blocked Cheongryeo in an attempt to stop myself from contacting him while I was still pissed off. I would have to think of a way to teach this bastard a lesson before long, though.

But first, there are more pressing issues at hand. I called the members together. They seemed perfectly at ease since none of them had checked social media just yet. They’d been getting ready to go to bed and looked surprised that I’d asked all of them to gather up.

“You w-wanted to t-talk to us?” Ahyeon asked.

“Oh, are you giving us a gift for completing our first awards ceremony? I’ll take the biggest one. Thanks,” Big Sejin joked with a grin.

“He might have used reverse psychology and made sure the smallest gift was the most valuable—” Raebin began to ramble.

“It’s not gifts,” I said.

“Right.”

Their carefree attitudes helped to dispel some of the tension that had built up inside me. I turned to Chungwoo, the only one who seemed remotely serious.

“About our SBC performance.”

“Yes?”

“Why don’t we change it up?”

Everyone seemed shocked.

“Now?”

“Only for the special stage.”

“Is there a reason?” Bae Sejin asked, looking as though he wished nothing more than to refuse right away.

I considered how much I should say for a moment, then explained the situation. It was impossible to get around telling the truth if I had any hope of persuading them, and they would know by tomorrow anyway.

“The thing is, there’s been a post going around online...”

The members’ body language grew stiff as I told them.

“This reminds me of that time during Idol Inc.”

“I guess it’s probably the same people behind this. Uh... but why change the arrangement?” Big Sejin asked.

I didn’t mince words. “To shock them.”

I told them my idea. The members seemed stunned by my suggestion.

“D-don’t you t-think that might be a l-little too much?” Ahyeon asked.

“I’m worried about the same thing,” Raebin said.

Big Sejin, however, agreed. “This is going to take some really hard work on our part, but I don’t think it’s a bad idea.”

The battle was already half-won.

“I think it’s the best response to the situation. Is anyone against the idea?” I asked.

Bae Sejin seemed to glare at Big Sejin for a moment but relented when I locked eyes with him. I’d planned to hear them out if they refused, but none of the members ended up opposing the idea. Even Chungwoo simply nodded.

“Let’s do it. You guys are the only ones I can afford to be worried about right now.”

“Chungwoo...”

It seemed to have been eating away at him all this time, thinking things had taken a turn for the worse because of him.

“They’d have done all this regardless, even if that controversy hadn’t come along. Don’t worry about it,” I said.

I won’t tell him the timing might have been better if not for that damned scandal.

Surprisingly, Ahyeon piped up. “T-that’s right. P-people like that d-don’t change. There’s n-no need for us to pay them any mind!”

If I had to guess, I’d say he’d heard something like this during his therapy sessions.

“Wow, Ahyeon! That was a pretty cool thing to say!” Big Sejin exclaimed.

“Yeah! Cool!” Eugene parroted.

“N-no, I—” Ahyeon turned bright red.

Ryu Chungwoo laughed and nodded. “You’re right. Thanks.”

The warm mood seemed to make Bae Sejin cautious to speak up, but he eventually did haltingly. “Does this mean we’re changing up the arrangement or—”

“Yeah!” Eugene cried enthusiastically.

“Anyone have a different opinion?” Big Sejin asked.

Nobody spoke up and Bae Sejin looked resigned to his fate. His mind was telling him yes, though his body was saying no. And the former had won out.

“This will be tough. We’ll have to go hard,” Raebin said.

“Yeah, let’s do it!” Big Sejin exclaimed.

And so we decided to switch things up a little. We got permission from the agency after they held a meeting the next day. We were able to begin practicing the new song without any delay.

“I guess it’s unavoidable.”

Raebin looked a little disappointed that he couldn’t arrange the music himself, but seemed to accept the situation as necessary. It took us a little over a week to alter our choreography and all related aspects of the performance.

In the meantime, the debate continued to rage on the internet, fueled by a minor news article. Onyx even received a Rookie of the Year award at a small awards ceremony that TeSTAR hadn’t taken part in.

[Onyx wins tearful Rookie of the Year award at the Seouler’s Choice Awards]

The awards had been given based purely on votes and the internet had watched the show live, acting like vigilantes dispensing justice as they rallied together to vote for Onyx. There were rumors spreading that VTIC fans helped them a little by voting for Onyx for the bonsangs—the smaller prizes—while voting for VTIC for the daesang—the grand prize.

Such small ceremonies were pretty meaningless, but TeSTAR’s fans were growing discouraged and the trolls were elated. If the TeSTAR fans had voted, they would have been accused of maliciously choosing to participate in voting on an awards show that TeSTAR wasn’t even taking part in.

All of this meant our preparations went extremely well. Some of the members had been on the fence about the whole thing, but following all this drama they practiced with a passion fueled by frustration.

Then came the day of SBC Gayo Daejeon, accompanied by an incident that was critical in cementing the members’ resolve.

“Hello there!”

“Hi!”

We encountered Onyx in the corridor, smiling as we passed them by, but heard a muttered comment we weren’t expecting to.

“Did they just say something about getting justice?” Big Sejin asked.

“I heard as well,” Raebin said.

“M-me too,” Ahyeon chimed in.

Frankly, I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that they talked about the situation like that amongst themselves. Of course, they were probably enjoying the situation since they were winning awards and their competition was getting screwed. Their mistake was not taking into account how good my members’ hearing was.

“Wow. I suddenly really want to get on stage.”

“Me, too.”

“Same here,” I agreed.

Thus, we were all able to abandon any semblance of guilt as we waited for our turn on stage. Frankly, it was nice of them to relieve us of that burden and unite our team.

***

SBC Gayo Daejeon usually aired on Christmas Eve, but there was a special show planned this year, so it had been moved forward. As a result, the show was broadcast on a night in the middle of December, which was an odd choice on the broadcaster’s part. It was airing in the gap left by a drama series ending before a new one went to air.

- Why this god-awful timing?

- I turned on the TV hoping for a drama special, not these idols I’ve never heard of

- SBC is no fun. They’re always inviting idols. Are they aiming for WeTube uploads only? Do they not care about viewership anymore?

- Who’s on the show?

- Wow, I have no idea who that is

Most viewers were those who’d been looking forward to the year’s first major end-of-year music festival. The drama that had just ended had been popular, however, and so many people had tuned in as a matter of habit.

Casual comments left by those who weren’t really fans appeared in the chat.

- I’m a bit excited

- Is there a special stage this year?

- Everyone in Soliae is so pretty

- We’ll need to wait until the second part to see the more mainstream idols

- Wasn’t there some kind of special stage for rookies in the first part? I think I saw an ad about it

- Carols again? Why is it the same thing every year with these guys?

- Will VTIC only be in the third part?

- I’m going to watch something else. Ciao.

Many people were just chatting in the comments as they watched the first part, since—with the exception of the opening sequence—most groups performing were rookies that hadn’t been around for more than three years or had only just started to gain some appeal.

A short clip played on screen.

[A K-pop rookies stage!]

[TeSTAR Park Moondae: We get to experience performing each other’s songs by choosing from a random draw.]

[Soliae Minjeong: Wow! That sounds fun!]

[Onyx Pox: There’s a song I really want to try performing!]

- Oh! This must be the special stage in part one

- TeSTAR doesn’t belong with these rookies, do they?

- I guess it’s because they technically are rookies LOL

- Public television stations are never kind to idols from cable TV shows

- Oh yeah! TesTAR’s from a cable variety show.

- I don’t know any of the songs except for TeSTAR’s...

- Are there five teams? Please don’t do all the songs in their entirety. It’s so boring.

The footage showed the groups drawing straws and screaming excitedly, impervious to the real-time comments and ended with a final caption.

[How will their performances turn out?]

Songs that were vaguely recognizable to the majority of viewers began to play. The production team had picked out the most popular song from each group.

- I think I recognize that chorus

- They should just do covers of popular idol songs. They’re wasting their time with this

- I’ll bet the group who got a TeSTAR song were relieved haha

- It would be hilarious if someone was actually better than TeSTAR at their own song

- Hey now, they grew popular because of their skill, not thanks to their variety show, remember? Watch it, you’ll anger the fans

- LMAO

While people talked away, three teams came on and off stage, completing their short performances. The lights went out and captions appeared onscreen.

[TeSTAR - Enjoyers (Onyx)]

- Whoa, that’s TeSTAR

- Why does it have to be an Onyx song, of all things? Haha

- I guess they got each other’s songs LOL

- What a strange twist of fate

- SBC probably rigged it

- LOL I’m curious

The comments grew confused as a short prelude ended and the song began.

- Don’t idols usually rearrange the song when they’re doing covers like this?

Indeed, TeSTAR was performing Onyx’s debut song as-is, without changing a single note.

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