Chapter 310

Chapter 310

The TeSTAR concert began by replicating the feeling of being underwater in the concert venue. What unfolded next was not what the gamer who’d tagged along with her friends had expected.

Huh. Be it singers or idols putting on a show, the term concert summoned to mind certain expectations when it came to format. The focus was on the performers showcasing all that they’d prepared. They’d usually mix their hit songs with their more recent tracks and present them in an order that was perfectly curated so that the experience did not grow stale for the audience.

TeSTAR had done their concerts in this manner until now, and her friends had explained as much to her.

- You’ll find it fun. You’ll recognize a lot of the songs haha

- Yeah. And they’re all so handsome and great at what they do! You won’t be wasting your money! T_T Don’t cancel!

But that wasn’t what was happening right now. This concert was telling a story instead.

The night falls slowly

I don’t want to

escape the night

Amid the dry ice, graceful movements inspired by modern dance unfolded, cloth fluttering around the members like they were floating in water. The first song of the concert was “Midnight, and Next,” arranged perfectly to suit an orchestra.

That was quite the peculiar choice. An idol group with this many years under their belt and so many hits usually did a medley of songs from the early years following their debut, and nothing more. But TeSTAR had gone as far as arranging this song to be used at the concert. This was the beginning of the story that this concert was designed to tell.

Forget the songs, the dreams

This is midnight

Your midnight

The boys, lost in the water, seemed to be drifting into the past, taking their dreams with them. A clock’s ticking could be heard, gears turning, and the members sank to the bottom of the sea, re-experiencing the past. As the clock tolled, indicating that the song was over, the members were left lying in the depths of the ocean.

Then the stage morphed into a classroom, the lights suddenly giving the scene clarity. All of it felt like a dream. The smooth transition led to their song “Hi-five.” It was a bright, cheery rock track about them being young and alive. The members stood up, seeming a little dazzled, as the intro played. Then they grinned at one another, stamping their feet as they ran about on stage.

My feet are moving

Faster! Farther!

Over the course of the concert, the boys, seemingly transported to the past, chased their dreams, fell in love, encountered enemies, and grew stronger in order to win. Each part of the story had a TeSTAR song to go along with it.

TeSTAR was an idol group, of course, and the story was not as obvious as it might have been in a real musical or opera. But the lyrics, the mood, and the pre-recorded videos that played occasionally made the story easy to follow—especially for people who didn’t have much knowledge of the group.

Were these songs made with this purpose in mind? The gamer was taken aback. The fans took this in stride better since the songs were so familiar to them, but the members had included expressive narrative elements between each song that enhanced the tale.

The gamer took everything in with all of her senses, rather than just listening to the music. Confusion, joy, tension, wariness… The playful energy and expressiveness TeSTAR employed were incredible in quality, and she found herself pulled into the songs, even if they were unfamiliar to her.

The members, having achieved growth through coming to understand love, began a powerful performance as if to show off how much stronger they’d grown.

Tuck in, tear it up, enjoy it

Now, spring out

The tale added to the depth of the performance. By the time the sound of guns went off, and a concert-specific performance utilizing dancers burst to life on stage in a powerful display, she was all but cheering and clapping loudly without realizing it.

“Whoa.”

She was at an idol concert, something that was deeply unfamiliar to her. How was it that she was reacting so instinctively? She was confused by her own reaction—this was not a musical, after all.

But she needn’t have felt strange about how consumed by the performance she was. TeSTAR was even more serious than she was. The high notes, their rich voices, and the extreme choreography combined to produce a gripping ending in “Spring Out.” Then the lights flashed.

Shouts filled the air, and her heart raced as the story reached its climax. But the next moment, everything suddenly stopped.

“…!”

The song had ended upon reaching its climax, but now it was time for a break.

[※Intermission※]

[※Part Two begins soon.※]

They’d even incorporated intermissions in the set list, as if to give the audience time to think about what they’d seen and grow more excited about what was to come next.

[“Yay!”]

The gamer watched as a pre-recorded video of the members running around in animal pajamas played. It almost felt like a public service ad.

She wasn’t the only one who felt this way. As the lights came on and the mood grew relaxed, as was natural for an intermission, the fans began to lose it. Giving them a break like this was like implicit permission to express themselves.

“Oh my god. Oh—my—god.”

“What the hell?”

Lots of people immediately reached for their phones, rapidly typing away. The gamer began getting messages as well.

- They are f*cking geniuses, baby

- (face with spiral eyes emoji)

Her two friends were texting her. She looked around at where they were seated, and it seemed they’d quickly sent off the messages while their eyes remained fixed on the screen where the video was still playing.

Whoa… Their intensity scared her a little, but at the same time, she understood them a little better now.

TeSTAR made the concert fun even for people like me, who don’t know anything about them. A concert like this was worth seeing at least once. She was starting to realize why her friends had been so adamant that she not sell her ticket. Not knowing that TeSTAR had never actually done a concert like this before and that a ruckus on social media was unfolding as a result, she felt much more excited than she had before as she waited for the second part to begin.

Will they start to fight in part two? She was accustomed to clichéd game stories like this one, and with elaborate dance and song mixed in, how could it not be fun?

A cheerful announcement played, signaling the performance was resuming.

“Hey, everyone. I’m sure you’re thinking, what is going on inside their heads? Aren’t you curious?”

The voice belonged to Lee Sejin. The audience laughed loudly at his mischievous tone.

“You’ll find out soon what’s going to happen to TeSTAR. Here comes part two.”

The lights went out. Light orchestra music began, and the audience felt excitement growing in their hearts—the performers had carefully chosen the tempo with this in mind. The gamer suddenly realized that she was holding a lightstick that could be remotely controlled, and she stared at it with wide eyes.

What makes people live?

The opening stage for the second part was about chasing down their enemy. A racing light began on the stage and reverberated out through the lightsticks, following a long trajectory that spread across the audience seats. They had incorporated the lightsticks to add to the mood and the story unfolding on stage.

Oh my god! The gamer was really getting into it now.

They made it feel like the audience was playing an active part in the performance! There was an almost obsessive attention to detail that sparked something in her inner aficionado.

They’re so serious about this! TeSTAR had planned their concert carefully and done everything they could to make the concert immersive and packed with storytelling.

But no matter how much they tried, there were unavoidable gaps. TeSTAR’s songs had not been written to fit into an overarching saga, and they didn’t have as many types of songs as a musical would have. That was why they had included cover performances, both done in solo and subunits, which made up for this.

The second part consisted of recently trending songs, serving as bright points in the show, as well as covers that supplemented the story they were trying to tell. This meant TeSTAR needed to think carefully, even when it came to their movements backstage.

***

“Oof!”

“Three minutes!”

Groans, barked answers, and shouts could be heard backstage. The noises were grating, but I continued doing my mental calculations.

We have very little time. Because the way one stage led into the next mattered so much, we had even less time to rest than usual. There were no talk segments or breaks in between songs.

I pressed my tongue against the roof of my mouth as I tried not to become swept away by the cheers of the crowd. Cool-headed, I thought to myself, Some people will like it, and some people won’t, just as I thought.

The audience were loving it now, since it was so fresh and fun, but as soon as their excitement cooled, they would start to complain. Some fans would miss the communication between idol and fan that was normal at a concert. It had been a good choice on our part to plan for a W Live stream after the concert to make up for this deficiency.

Good. There wasn’t any time to feel satisfied, though. The member next to me, who would be doing the next performance, was looking decidedly unhappy.

“Worried?” I asked Raebin, who was as pale as a sheet.

“What? Oh. No. I’ll do my best to satisfy the fans!” Raebin replied quickly enough, but he kept on flexing his hands. He was more nervous than usual.

I’m not surprised. I folded my arms. We had little experience with this sort of thing. We were using songs that other people had decided for us, not modifying them but trying to understand and perform them perfectly. We had almost no experience performing songs that had been completed for us.

We always took part in the songwriting and the concept planning. That meant we’d basically skipped over the basic training that rookies generally undertook for a period of four or five years. It was teaching them to utilize all other aspects, especially themselves, to the maximum since the music itself could not be changed.

We’ll learn how it’s done this time around. This was what we needed to show today as we split into subunit and solo performances. Why had Big Sejin modified the setlist to have such an evocative story? The reason was simple.

“We’re not supposed to work on the songs themselves, so let’s use the extra time we have on this!”

Instead of spending time arranging the music, we were allowing ourselves to hone our craft, adding context to the different aspects of our performances.

I patted Raebin on the back. “You did great during practice. Relax and have fun.”

I heard him swallow nervously. “Right…” Raebin nodded emphatically. He needn’t be so anxious about this in reality.

“M-Moondae, Raebin and I have to g-get moving…” Ahyeon, who had changed into another outfit, quickly approached Raebin. He was the other member participating in the subunit for the next performance.

I smiled. “Ahyeon.”

“Huh?”

“Raebin will do great, don’t you think?”

Ahyeon did not even take a second to think. “Yeah.”

“…!”

His tone was firm, and he did not hesitate whatsoever. Such confidence was rare for him.

“Thank you…!” Raebin seemed touched. They shook hands, readying themselves to go.

“L-let’s do this!” Ahyeon said.

“Yes!”

Good thing we paired these two together. Ahyeon’s confidence wasn’t unfounded. He was the only person who wasn’t experiencing something entirely new today. He had trained for this sort of thing. His entire childhood had been spent perfectly interpreting and expressing the intent of a given work—he was a top ballet student, after all.

“W-we’ll be off, then!”

“Sure,” I said.

I watched them break into a trot. Their retreating figures made for a pretty picture.

***

The performance right before this was “Nightmare,” expressing a young man’s struggle to resist temptation.

This sound is calling out to you

Bae Sejin glared at the audience, a hand wrapped around his neck.

Oh my god! Park Moondae’s fansite master bit back a scream.

How could they come up with something so ingenious and charming for the concert and not immediately market it in some way? Don’t tell me the description on the ticket page that said the concert would be as rich as a musical was supposed to be a hint?

She took a deep breath, knowing she needed to calm down. Even if Moondae’s gloomy solo part that had been added to the “Nightmare” performance was so sexy that she wanted to linger in that moment forever, she needed to be ready for the next stage.

The video playing on the screen, however, seemed to indicate that the next stage was a subunit.

Hmm. She saw two hands shaking on the screen, which was enough to tell her Park Moondae wasn’t up next. She relaxed a little.

I can just enjoy this. Calming herself, she fixed her eyes on the screen.

TeSTAR members who had finished changing were also watching a monitor showing the stage from down below.

“Here goes!”

Moondae was about to rub at his chin but remembered his makeup and lowered his hand. He looked at the screen. The huge monitor their dedicated management team had set up for them was showing the stage. The pre-recorded video ended, and the music began. This subunit stage was to be the final step in the build-up to the climax.

The powerful sound ringing from the speakers belonged to a progressive rock band that had been known as one of the most experimental end-of-the-century bands in the nineties.

This is a nice rendition. At this point in the story, the boys had lost at a crucial moment in a fight with their enemy. “Nightmare” had been about enticement, as it were, the offer of more power, and the current song was about inner turmoil.

The thundering electric guitar that revved through the speakers died down, replaced by the graceful and deft sound that had played a part in the first half of the concert. It was a violin solo accompanied by quiet singing.

The dizzying moment

Ahyeon was the first to rise to the stage. He represented reason, logic, the good character—there was a bunch of symbolism involved. He smoothly moved across the stage. The choreography incorporated modern dance, and the white spotlight trailed after him.

I stand on tiptoe

The song was very experimental in nature, but the performance, which incorporated dancers, was not all that difficult to comprehend. It was way too expressive to be misunderstood.

“Wow.”

“That’s so cool.”

Ahyeon wore white as he depicted the song’s meaning perfectly with his clean movements. His singing was steady, melting into the accompaniment and enhancing the performance.

The fire may change, but I will keep my voice

Step by step

He stretched his hand out, then rolled into a seamless backflip, and landed gently as the fabric of his outfit fluttered behind him. His dancing drew on every last bit of his experience, and it was deeply gripping.

My god… The audience was completely engrossed.

This, however, was where the dissonance began. The violin cut short with a thud, and the electric guitar thundered to life again. The spotlight blinked, and someone else appeared on the other end of the stage.

Red light

It was Raebin, wearing an outfit that was pulled tight around his body with many black buckles. He didn’t dance—instead, he slowly crossed the stage, a head microphone leaving his hands free. There was something domineering about the way he walked.

If you walk, you’ll fall

Stop and turn around

Then he began to rap. There was an irregular rhythm to his rap that mixed Korean and English, starting slowly and beginning to speed up. Static could be heard from the microphone.

This was an arrangement that had been performed at a concert in the 2000s in collaboration with a Korean American rapper. In an interview at the time, the performer had described the point of the performance.

“The person who steps in like an uninvited guest in the middle of the song is supposed to take charge of it.”

Raebin did just that. He pushed away the orchestra and forced his way onto the stage accompanied by the electric music, settling into his rightful place with ease.

Tick tock, tick tock

Your mind won’t be your own when the line shifts

Your heart lies where your feet are

The rap continued, his hand gestures growing more wide, and his dancers spreading out around him. The stage had been overridden.

The orchestra returned and Ahyeon retaliated with a short, powerful performance that seemed like a last attempt at resistance, but he had already been outdone in every aspect. The orchestra vanished, and Ahyeon disappeared, dropping onto the stage using a stage device.

The tone of the performance was completely different now. The short, powerful group dance that Raebin performed with the dancers filled the stage for as long as Ahyeon had earlier in the song.

Overwhelming loud electronic noises combined with their dancing, and Raebin’s coat fluttered behind him as he moved. At this point in the song, the protagonist’s mind was succumbing to impulses. And so the performance was re-enacted in the 2020s in a way that was faithful to the intent of the original artist—except at the very end.

Mmm.

Reason did not return. Impulse won out to the very end.

Get off

Raebin turned around and vanished from the stage, the song over.

***

“Yeeeaaaah!”

“Wow, would you listen to that?”

The screaming from the audience felt like it was going to shatter the very foundation of the narrow corridors backstage. Our fans had always been generous with their cheering, but if they were this loud, it was safe to assume that they were being honest about it.

They liked the subunit’s cover performance just as much as one of our main performances. It was a success.

I said easily, “You did great.”

“Th-thank you.”

Ahyeon had come back first, and he smiled with a towel thrown over his head. The second half of the pair appeared in the corridor as well, and the members cheered for him without restraint.

“Kim Raebin!”

“You did amazing! That was so good!”

“Thank you.”

Raebin, having taken off his coat, bowed without rejecting the praise. His face betrayed his excitement.

I guess he knows how well he did. Few people were as honest as he was. I grinned.

“Well done.”

“Right!”

I said no more, patting him on the shoulder a few times. We didn’t have time to do much more than that, anyway.

“Get changed.”

“Oh!” Raebin seemed about to say something, but he quickly let a staff member help him change out of his tight costume. He had all of twenty seconds.

“A hundred and fifty seconds to go! Time for ‘Present!’” Big Sejin said.

“Present!”

The concert wasn’t over yet. I still had more surprises in store.