Chapter 157

Chapter 157

Kim Raebin had been injured during the second shoot after our stage rehearsal. We had reached the highly difficult group choreography during Ahyeon’s part, and as he stretched out his leg to get up off the floor, he nudged a large piece of equipment, knocking it onto his foot. The actual reason the accident had occurred was because the stage had been far smaller than we’d anticipated.

It was even smaller than they said it would be. Knowing that the stage off to the side of the English talk show was likely going to be too small for a group performance, we’d taken that into account and adjusted our choreography accordingly.

Kim Raebin wasn’t out of bounds, either. In other words, these bastards had given us the incorrect information, and now his foot was badly injured.

F*ck. But no, I shouldn’t just assume it’s a serious injury. Of course, he was bleeding, but perhaps it wasn’t as bad as it looked.

“Raebin, can you move your foot? Don’t try to actually move it. Just tell me how it feels!”

“I can, but... i-it hurts...”

“Let’s stop the bleeding first!”

After first aid was administered, Raebin was taken away in an ambulance. The rest of us joined him at the hospital after quickly wrapping things up in the studio. We wouldn’t be able to record the performance again anyway, so they would just have to use whatever footage they had from the first take.

The doctor immediately delivered his diagnosis.

“Two weeks?”

“At a minimum. He still won’t be able to dance, of course, and he will still need to wear a foot guard when standing up.”

The agency employee who’d come out of Kim Raebin’s hospital room quickly explained everything to us with the help of an interpreter. Raebin had torn a ligament, and some of the bones in his foot were broken in addition to the gash.

At least we avoided the worst-case scenario. If it had been a fracture or a ruptured tendon, he would have been unable to perform for months, at the very least. Not that the current situation was ideal, either.

“We can’t be sure he’ll be able to perform energetic movements like the ones needed for ‘Present,’ even in a month’s time...”

We were in the middle of our promotional cycle, and it was basically a fact that Raebin wouldn’t be able to dance at all for the duration of it—this was a perfect disaster since the song was so focused on performance.

What is it with us and America? We’d been taking turns ending up in the hospital whenever we came, and I was less than amused by it.

I kept my mouth shut as Chungwoo asked the agency’s employee cautiously, “Was there any talk of lasting side effects?”

“No. I don’t think the injury is that serious.”

He gave a sigh of relief, and the others also looked comforted somewhat. Eugene looked like he was about to start crying.

“R-Raebin... Can I go see him now?”

“Yes. The doctor’s just left.”

We’d come all the way here, and it would be silly to leave without seeing him. We entered his hospital room.

“Raebin?”

He was sitting on the bed, wearing a dazed look on his face. His injured foot was strapped up, elevated toward the ceiling.

Big Sejin spoke as soon as Raebin turned toward us. “Raebin, how is your foot?”

“It’s all right. But the performance—”

“You don’t have to worry. We just spoke with the doctor, and he said you only need to rest for two weeks and then you can perform again. No big deal!”

Raebin seemed to understand the gravity of the situation despite Big Sejin’s attempt to reassure him. He might be tactless when it came to relationships, but he was perceptive enough when it came to other things.

I hadn’t thought he would be this upset, however. Tears began to drip from his eyes as he tried to stutter out words.

“I’m sorry... T-two weeks, that’s just...”

“Hey, it’s all good! Two weeks is nothing. We already did our comeback performance. What are you worried about?”

“Sejin’s right, Raebin. This isn’t your fault anyway. Just focus on getting better, all right?”

“Right…” Raebin sniffled and tried to wipe his tears.

Withholding a sigh, I retrieved a tissue from the bedside table and handed it to him. My heart felt heavy seeing him like this. “Don’t worry about anything else and just get some rest!”

“Yeah, get some rest, dummy!”

Raebin decided to stay in the hospital for two more days since he would just have to stay alone at the hotel otherwise. The other members confidently reassured him that everything was fine as we left his room, closing the door behind us.

Then it was time to work out the grim details.

“We’ll have to split Raebin’s parts between us, right?”

“Yeah,” Chungwoo confirmed, crossing his arms and smiling bitterly. “We’ll have to re-choreograph the entire performance.”

“We won’t be able to sleep thanks to the jet lag, anyway. Let’s give it a shot!” Big Sejin said.

Bae Sejin seemed to pale but didn’t protest. He seemed to feel as though complaining about having to do more practice when one of them was hurt would be in poor taste. This was a huge improvement in his attitude compared to our Idol Inc. days.

This is going to take its toll on all of us. The toll would be mental for Raebin and physical for the rest of us. To be completely honest, I wanted to let slip somehow that it had been bad communication on the talk show’s part that had caused his injury, be it here in America or back in Korea—they deserved payback for their carelessness.

But I can’t do that, can I? This was the first time we’d appeared on an English-speaking talk show as TeSTAR, without a game collab or anything attached. It was only right that we avoid making any noise. Still, I couldn’t help but feel upset. This whole debacle was a massive inconvenience.

Maybe we’ll have to become more popular before we can do anything. The problem was that I had no idea how much more popular we would have to get before boycotting a foreign talk show would have a noticeable impact. I sighed, shoving these thoughts aside.

I should just focus on practicing. Despite being far from home in a foreign country, practice was going to be the same hell regardless.

***

While TeSTAR took some time to rearrange their performance due to Kim Raebin’s injury, the new song produced by Golden Age, the group that Ha Iljoon—referred to as Goldie #1 by Moondae—belonged to, was slowly gaining popularity among idol fans.

- My heart began racing the moment I heard the chorus

- We can’t let a song like this miss out on the recognition it deserves. Let’s go! LOL

- I can’t forget the tune. It’s stuck in my head. Test takers are going to have to avoid this one (place: inside my head)

The interesting thing was that K-pop listeners on the internet were eager to see Golden Age’s new song gain more popularity. This was because Golden Age was a new group that wasn’t well established yet, and many believed they had been through a lot already thanks to Choi Wongil and Goldie #1.

The song itself was incredible, and fans found it fun to brainstorm new ways to get the track the recognition it deserved—they felt like they were doing the new group justice. Most of this talk wasn’t accompanied by much in the way of action, of course, but Golden Age’s agency took advantage of the opportunity by promoting them on WeTube and through various viral marketing campaigns on social media.

This project to gain exposure for the song was undertaken sensibly and in a way that wasn’t awkward, eventually leading the song to become a resounding success.

[Golden Age “Hi Goody” Challenge]

A simple dance using the song went viral on a platform meant for sharing short-form videos. As a result, Golden Age’s track quickly climbed the music charts.

- Holy crap, it’s at #26 now

- No way

- Let’s goooo! Congrats!

- There’s been all sorts of viral marketing going on. I guess they were successful, then! Congratz!

└ Wow, the inferiority complex is strong in this one

└ Must be a fan of those guys

TeSTAR’s fandom, which would have strived to keep such petty reactions in check under normal circumstances, had been thrown into chaos.

- Oh no! Kim Raebin’s foot! Damn it! The agency deserves to die for not changing the choreography ahead of time

- Right before an overseas performance, too T_T. I’m so disappointed and worried. I couldn’t focus on anything all morning

- Raebin, my baby rabbit! I’m worried he’s giving himself a hard time over this. Don’t worry about us and focus on getting better T_T

#RaebinBeStrong

- Not even that actor got hurt. It’s odd that he’s the only one who injured himself. I think he might be dating someone and so he’s distracted

- Eugene can handle Raebin’s part by himself, can’t he? I have no idea why Lee Sejin got some of it, too, when he’s not even a rapper...

Their consternation was caused by news of Raebin’s injury. TeSTAR’s fans were busy worrying about the injury, being disappointed that they wouldn’t be able to see the entire group perform for a while, and keeping an eye on the few trolls who were losing it over the whole thing.

From their perspective, it wasn’t necessary to be on guard against Golden Age’s rising fame. The traction their track was gaining failed to push them to the top of the music charts, given they were intrinsically limited by one important fact—they were a new boy group.

What was more, TeSTAR’s new album, with its distinctively Korean concept, was enjoying rave reviews. TeSTAR’s fans were simply slightly annoyed when the occasional person tried to claim that Golden Age’s song was better, and that was all there was to it.

The difference in reach between the groups was extremely obvious. However, to a certain someone who had been confined to a hospital room followed by a hotel for two weeks, all while completely unable to perform, the situation felt very different.

***

“Hey, congrats on removing the cast!”

“I know it can’t have been easy, Raebin.”

“Not at all. I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you all.”

Kim Raebin now wore a much lighter foot guard as he spoke confidently, bowing his head. The doctor had just given him permission to perform again, as long as he didn’t actually dance.

“Hey, you didn’t inconvenience us! We’re just happy that you’re coming back!” Big Sejin said.

“Th-th-that’s right!”

“Thank you.”

The members soothed Raebin’s worries before scattering to their respective hotel rooms. They needed to get some sleep before it was time to get up and change the choreography to include Raebin again.

I nodded to him. “You can sleep in this room.”

“Okay!”

We’d designated the rooms while Raebin was off seeing the doctor.

We won’t be here for long, anyway. Our stay in Japan would be very short. I held the door open for Kim Raebin, then went to gather my things for a shower.

“I’ll take a quick shower first.”

“Yes!”

He sounded very disciplined after taking some time off to rest. I shook my head and went to take my shower. When I came back out, I saw that Kim Raebin was still very tense. He seemed like he was preparing to drop some kind of bombshell on me.

Don’t tell me his injury got worse… I kept silent, wondering if he was about to tell me that he’d be out of commission for even longer.

Raebin finally said with difficulty, “Uh... Moondae?”

“Yes?”

“Do you also think Golden Age’s new song is better geared toward the general public’s taste, compared to the songs I’ve created?”

I wasn’t sure what this was about.

I stared at him, nonplussed, and Raebin squeezed his eyes shut and continued, “I’m able to contribute to our performances very little at the moment. If my involvement in our music is also having negative consequences, then I’m willing to take a break from songwriting and arranging for the time being—”

“Whoa, slow down. What are you talking about?” I said, cutting him off. This was absurd.

Our album did amazing. What are you going on about? Having self-producing members on the team was a double-edged sword—if things worked out, we had incredible synergy, but if they didn’t, there was conflict within the team. It was easy to blame the producers if an album or track failed to do as well as expected.

Kim Raebin’s never failed so far. Golden Age hadn’t gained so much popularity that they were anywhere near landing first place, and Raebin was still at the top of his game. I wasn’t sure where this was coming from.

I spoke as calmly as I could. “What made you think like this, all of a sudden?”

“Uh... I was monitoring reactions to our music. The algorithm led me to Golden Age’s new song, and the top comments on that video were—”

“Give it here. Let me see.”

“Huh?”

I had Raebin send me the link and watched it myself.

[Golden Age_Hi Goody_Comment_Collection]

So it’s a comment compilation video.

It showed top comments, screencaps of them edited over footage of the song being performed on stage. These sorts of videos only showed the positive and funny comments when most people liked the song well enough.

Of course, this particular video was going to be full of praise for “Hi Goody”. And it was only natural that people would draw comparisons between Golden Age and their strongest rival.

- I was watching a music show to see TeSTAR, but before I knew what was happening I was singing along to Hi Goody

- I don’t listen to noisy and angsty boy idol songs, but I love this one. It’s the song of the year

The comments on the video itself, rather than in the video, were even more chock full of scathing comparisons. If you were to judge based on just the video, it almost seemed as though everyone believed Golden Age’s song was objectively better.

“Hmm.” I looked away from my phone.

Raebin muttered, “So for reasons you can probably guess... I’d like your objective evaluation of my music.”

Are you serious? Is he blaming himself for this? Raebin wasn’t usually the sort who doubted his own abilities easily. If I had to guess, I’d say he felt more pressure to do well on the music side of things, since his injury prevented him from performing on stage.

This had led him to search out comparisons between our title track, which he’d made, and the song released by Golden Age, which is how he’d ended up in his current state of upset.

I sat down on the bed opposite Raebin’s, choosing my words wisely.