Chapter 291

Chapter 291

In short, the digital track was a massive hit.

“Wh-what’s our ranking?”

“One sec.”

I checked the daily music charts.

[#3 TeSTAR - Promise]

“No way.”

“That’s one higher than yesterday!” Raebin said.

“Woooow!” Eugene drawled in a sing-song voice as he passed by, sounding obnoxious.

Frankly, I understood their reactions, though—this was news that would make anyone ecstatic. I was feeling the rush myself.

Nothing gets the blood pumping like realizing that an investment is paying off in a big way. The track above ours was a song made popular by a drama, the top song being an indie song that had been popular for a long time. This meant, in essence, that ours was the most successful easy-listening song that was summer-themed.

We did a great job with the build-up to this. We’d completed the song two months before our comeback, and it had been thrilling every single time something fell into place like a jigsaw puzzle since. There had been buzz about the song, then more buzz.

I thought back on the past week. Our performance in the rain, which had attracted interest half because of controversy and half by inciting awe, had taken social media by storm. A well-timed explanation had allowed for the whole event to take on a positive light without losing any steam.

- It’s a work of f*cking art

- I was leaving comments on TeSTAR’s comeback stage saying that watching it makes my mood improve. This one is even better though haha

- Amazing song, amazing idols, amazing performance

- It’s fascinating that water is able to splash that way. TeSTAR, you are actual mermaids

- K-pop is so fun this summer. I’ll bet we’ll be all nostalgic looking back on this ten years from now

Though the rain performance had attracted attention, most people hadn’t been able to really enjoy it because of the safety concerns. With those cleared up, however, they now had free rein to enjoy.

The way human psychology works, creating a restriction first, then removing it makes people even more enthusiastic than having not created one at all. After that, just as expected, anyone who’d seen the rainy performance immediately started listening to the music on streaming platforms. Once again, we’d created a positive cycle of digital music and performance—but much greater this time.

[(Early reveal) ☜Sailors of the Sky☞ Bringing you the water dance! Tiny Club EP. 102]

In the end, even an early reveal of TeSTAR’s appearance on a TV variety show had been worthy of being uploaded to the web—though the thumbnail looked rather hastily put together. TV was the most conservative medium, which meant we’d officially become a trend.

A picture of that performance is being used by a TV channel to hype our appearance on their show. And the result was as follows.

- TeSTAR’s song is everywhere. I was shocked when I heard it in Hongdae

- The song and the choreography are both fantastic, to be honest. And that dance in the rain—oh the sweet taste of big corporate backing!

- Even my nephew in kindergarten is mimicking the moves. How popular is this going to get?

The song, as well as the performance itself, had become a social media trend.

It’s a flow of sorts. Though the car accident had cut our promotions short, this was similar to the trend we’d noticed during the promotional cycle for “Nightmare”—this was influence on a level that exceeded the pure name value of TeSTAR as a top-tier idol. Commenters online who said that they hadn’t noticed this trend were being mocked to the skies and back.

“It’s all thanks to you, Raebin. You made such a great song,” Chungwoo said.

“You’re too kind! I wasn’t the only one who worked on it, and the song wouldn’t have been possible without you guys’ feedback and Moondae’s ideas! I won’t forget all that and will stay humble!” Raebin replied, hardly pausing for breath. It was almost like he’d won an award or something.

Eugene, on the other hand, was saying gravely, “Raebin made the music, but Sejin and I made the cool choreo. Raebin didn’t do it by himself!”

“That’s what I just said, stupid!” Raebin said.

“Me too, dumbass!”

Look at these two.

I spoke to the Sejin that Eugene had just mentioned. “Must be nice.”

“Huh? Of course, it’s nice. People really love the song.” Surprisingly, Big Sejin seemed a little embarrassed. “How should I put it… it’s kind of hard to believe it was such a success.”

Or maybe he’s just moved. He’d done almost no solo activities related to music, and it was no doubt impressive to him that the choreography he’d picked out and arranged himself had become so popular. He glanced up at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and threw his arms in the air.

“Oh, whatever! This is good! Thanks! Thanks to all our members!”

“Yeah!”

Our success was having a positive impact on the general mood. Even Bae Sejin was red in the face and applauding Big Sejin for our new digital ranking, which was pretty fun to watch.

“Looks like we showed everyone what we’re made of yet again!” Big Sejin said.

It was one in the morning, and the next item on our schedule was coming up at four. But no one seemed all that worried. Based on what I knew about them, it probably wouldn’t be a problem. They weren’t the sort to slack on the job.

But we can’t let our guard down just yet. We hadn’t really surpassed VTIC when it came to name value, and the first-week difference wasn’t going anywhere—though we’d sold exceptionally well this time around, that much was true.

[TeSTAR “The Ocean of Wonder” - 1,558,114]

1.55 million copies sold in the first week. My head was a jumbled mess, frankly, because I hadn’t expected everything to go this well. It was a truly massive number. There were only about three active idols who had ever sold this many copies, with the exception of VTIC.

And we’re still going strong. After checking how many albums had been sold after the first week, I shrugged.

This momentum should last us at least a month. I was almost certain that our current situation would last. Other groups who were also aiming for first place on music shows would steer clear until mid-August.

I would do the same in their shoes. Two number one groups were currently splitting the audience share like their lives depended on it. What would anyone else gain by stepping in now? TeSTAR was no longer struggling to keep up—we had really found our feet. It would be quite a while before both groups finally slowed down. The VTIC fans seemed aware of this, too, since they’d changed their stance.

- Both are doing well. Don’t try to play them against each other

- VTIC and TeSTAR are going for two very different things. Why compare them at all?

- The people who use VTIC album sales to belittle TeSTAR, and vice versa with the digital rankings, are such a pitiful bunch of assholes. Their favorite idols probably don’t have a future…

They had called a ceasefire. The moment TeSTAR’s song established itself as trendy, they seemed to have decided that fighting us would do them no good. They just wanted to ensure that VTIC’s top-tier position remained unchanged, while shying away from criticism so they didn’t have to be stressed out.

They’ve obviously been doing this for a very long time. Behind the scenes, of course, they were dead-set on taking TeSTAR down and generating malicious rumors… but I’d been expecting that. Given how well the song had done, our fans would be experiencing more enjoyment than stress right about now. Since we were climbing our way up, it was clear that we’d basically won.

We did it. I locked my phone. I supposed it was time for me to relish the successful outcome of our adventurous challenge.

“Park Moondae!”

“Get over here! You should join in!”

Haha. I stood up. It was funny, watching the other members get so excited, encouraging each other loudly. I decided I would join in on the fun for a bit. It was a pretty satisfying moment.

***

Eight hours later, after our early-morning photo shoot, we had a simple interview scheduled at nine. The topic was Tnet… Again. The two-day TaKon event had gone so well this time around that they were hoping to include some very special VOD bonus features. They’d started early in the morning, interviewing the Idol Inc. debut team and even Miry-nay. But even if it was a broadcast station calling them in, I’d expected someone as big as VTIC to refuse.

“Hello!”

“Nice to see you again!”

To my surprise, VTIC showed up as well. It seemed they’d happened to be in the country when the request reached them. I wasn’t really shocked that they’d shown up at the same time as us.

They were obviously given the most convenient time slot. It was pretty natural for two of the most popular groups to encounter each other on set, if both were invited to said set. I didn’t see why, however, both groups had been made to share the same waiting room—even if it was the biggest and nicest one there was.

I watched Cheongryeo walk in after his interview—he’d gone first—and stared silently.

Cheongryeo. I’d have to be alone with him for maybe twenty minutes until someone else finished up. It was pretty gratuitous to dwell on how unpleasant he was at this point.

“I guess you were the first in your group to interview, too?” he asked.

“Yes, I was.”

“Have you been enjoying work recently?”

“I’ve been doing my best. And yes, it’s fun.” I hoped the bastard wouldn’t lose it because we’d overtaken them on the charts.

Cheongryeo, however, looked quite at ease. “I feel the same way.”

I said nothing.

“Really, I’m having fun. It’s been a while since we did a new song. There are so many variables, and in the past, I only ever chose songs I’d tested in a previous timeline.” He wasn’t just making conversation. He was using language that seemed too blatant for the setting.

“Oh, I see.”

What was he going to do if someone came in and overheard?

“Huh? Relax. It’s fine,” he said.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh.” He grinned at me. “This isn’t an ad or a music show. Just a hurriedly-put-together internal interview. Outsiders don’t often show up at places like this. It’s safe to talk about it.”

Is that right? So an experienced idol is betting his own safety on it. The staff could show up, yes, but I doubted they would have their ears plastered to the door. They had no reason or justification for doing so.

“Whatever, then,” I said.

“Haha.”

I leaned back against the sofa and raised my phone.

When he’d stopped laughing, he asked, “You’re after the daesang, aren’t you?”

“Aren’t we all?”

“I’m not generalizing here… You seem to have put together a pretty serious plan for this year. The release timing, the music video, the performance in the rain—all of that stirred up some pretty viral popularity.”

I stared at him. “That tactic only worked because the song and performance were good. It was well-deserved.”

“Is that right?”

“Doesn’t it occur to you that your song was a success because it deserved to be?” I asked. I looked down at my phone again. “You said you hadn’t tested this one before. What gave you the confidence to pick this one?”

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice becoming monotonous. “I… just tried my best to make it good.”

“And it worked, evidently.”

“Though your group did better on the digital charts.”

I’d been expecting him to get around to this. “You sold two million albums. Don’t act like you’re just humbly accepting the situation or something.”

Cheongryeo laughed loudly. “I guess you’re right. I have no plans to let you win, after all.” That answer sounded more like his usual self.

“Of course you don’t,” I said, sinking into the sofa again.

The mood between us lightened some more. Then I heard a slight rustling.

Don’t tell me… My brain froze.

“Oh, Kongi—”

I ignored him and stood up, and he went silent, following suit. I spun around without warning and opened the door.

“…!”

Damnably enough, there was someone there. The guy shot to his feet from where he was crouched right behind the door. It was Seodam. Shock and surprise be damned, this bastard had just been trying to listen in on our conversation. Immediately, I found myself going over my conversation with Cheongryeo.

Neither of us cussed, and as for any mention of unrealistic… Had we said anything too strange?

We did use pretty open language regarding the current promotions— Oh. I took a really disrespectful tone with Cheongryeo.

“Strange. Nobody should be around— Ah.”

F*cker, you said nobody would be here.

Cheongryeo glanced at Seodam. Then his eyes began to gleam. “You’re here to see Moondae,” he said.

“…!”

“That must be it. You don’t know me, so it can’t be me… And that’s the only reason you’d go so out of your way. Isn’t that right?”

He’d come to see me?

The nervous look on Seodam’s face suggested Cheongryeo was right. Seodam seemed to quickly recover himself. “I… I just lost my way.”

“You’re done with filming, right?” I asked.

“We’re on standby for a bit longer. Then we’re filming some more after lunch.”

His team had been put on standby while the top-tier groups were given priority. He’d figured out where I was, snuck over here, and done his best to eavesdrop on our conversation.

“There’s something that worries me, though,” he said. He suddenly sounded pretty relaxed. “I’ve been pretty on edge recently, you see… And I always record audio of what’s going on around me while I work. I don’t want any more misunderstandings, you see.”

His eyes flashed, the confusion in them slowly vanishing. “Now, I did get to debut, being the lucky bastard that I am, but if any more rumors form… I’ll need objective evidence to clear me of wrongdoing.”

I noticed there was an odd emphasis on a couple of his words.

Would you look at that? I remembered the words I’d mouthed at him before.

Lucky little bastard.

“But this recorder, it’s very sensitive. It picks up more than you’d think. I’m just asking this out of concern… I don’t want to make any trouble for you, after all. Was there anything you talked about that you’d rather not have anyone know about?”