Chapter 311

Chapter 311

The second part of TeSTAR’s concert was an endless series of climaxes. The story unfolded from Kim Raebin and Seon Ahyeon’s subunit stage, and the boy in the story gave in to his impulses, eventually veering in a dangerous and dark direction.

The stage expressed the emotional violence of this change.

I’m finally here

Present

Where the original song had once contained traditional instruments, fragmented electronic noises played instead, making for an unsettling sound.

Today’s the day

Never get away from me ya

This version of “Present” was much darker than the original, and it was so powerful and sexy it seemed a little otherworldly. Ryu Chungwoo, who stood in the center of the stage, nodded to the beat without any expression on his face.

Zombies from Joseon… The gamer thought this had to be the peak moment of intensity—the part where the conflict reached its climax. She was wrong. At every point where she felt things had reached their peak, the buildup began anew, only elevating the performance further.

Huh? What? “BETTER ME” was next, describing the boy’s confusion after winning against the enemy but encountering new doubts about himself. It was an overwhelming shadow performance.

So this is the climax, then! Again, she was wrong. The boy ended his period of wandering, understanding something new about himself and returning to who he’d once been. What followed was an intricate piece about his return to self.

“…?”

The song was “Daybreak,” a combination of the two title tracks from the previous promotional cycle, “Wheel” and “Drill.” Fireworks went off, and the performance caused the audience’s jaws to drop, perfectly mesmerizing in its splendor and excitement.

Turn my Ferris wheel around

The lights go off like stars

Chills went up and down her spine. Now this was worthy of a concert’s climax—but the gamer had caught on to the pattern by now. Things were not over yet.

There’s something more, isn’t there? I know there is! She was starting to look forward to being wrong, which, at its core, was just a desire for the unbelievable performance to never end. The intensity and immersion of it all were just too good.

And then the next song began, as if answering her innermost desire. This one, however, was somewhat different.

It’s taking longer… The introduction to this one was longer than the others. Drums pounded outwards from the dark stage for an extended period of time following the pre-recorded video.

Huh? But everything came to life on stage all at once, accompanied by the sound of cheerful whistling.

“…!”

Water was flowing on the stage.

Holy sh*t. She had no idea how much money it had cost, but actual flowing water, the sort one would see in a massive water show, had formed a spring of sorts.

Then the lights began to glow. They were arranged to point along the stream, gathering at the bottom of the stage with the water and creating a fantastical sight. Someone appeared on stage. They jumped down, emerging from the darkness above the stream at the front of the stage and landing in the water.

“…!”

It was Cha Eugene. Unlike the subunit performance he’d participated in earlier in the night, Eugene had appeared alone—a first for this concert.

Yeah, yeah, yeaaaaah

He began a solo performance with no further ado. He seemed to be in his element as he stood calf-deep in the water and delivered an elaborate solo intro surrounded by flowing water and light. The curving spray of water reflected light in all directions. All these special effects, however, were eclipsed by the sole performer’s movements, made just props to his charisma.

Eugene’s trait made it so he was able to take immediate control of the stage. The gamer found herself marveling despite herself.

“Holy crap.”

Is he even human? The moment he finished the intro performance, Eugene yanked off his goggles and threw them aside with a grin directed at the audience. There was an ear-splitting roar in response, but the gamer did not frown this time. A familiar prelude was playing in the background.

I know this song! It was TeSTAR’s most recent hit, “Promise,” which still maintained a place on the charts. It was the most successful of all TeSTAR’s tracks to date. Even the gamer was familiar with it, since she would usually hear it twice on average whenever she left her home. She had a strong theory about what was going to happen next.

Will they try to get the crowd to sing along, like at a festival? Sadly, she was wrong again. Instead, an element that had been temporarily absent returned—the lighting. There was a hum as rippling blue light covered the venue. Instead of dry ice, it was soap bubbles that tumbled toward the audience seats now.

“Huh…?”

This was the finale of the concert. The hall was now an ocean again, only this time, the boy did not sink.

Umm

Eugene turned his back, shrugged, and looked up at the ceiling—the surface of the sea. The stage floor opened up, and six more figures rose up around him. The other TeSTAR members had appeared.

Take your STAR

They were floating toward the surface of the water.

“…!”

TeSTAR wore huge smiles, beginning to dance in the water as soon as the first line began.

The stars are falling from on high

The same performance they’d once delivered in the rain was now being given the massive and ornate concert treatment, which had been their intention for the song from the very start. The relaxation and enjoyment TeSTAR were able to feel as they performed, an ease that resulted from countless practice sessions, did away with the anxiety that the rain had caused in their dedicated audience.

The water poured down and off the stage, draining until they were only ankle-deep in it. A lovely, cheerful choreography began followed by pleasant, satisfying vocals.

Kick the waves and run

Toward the sky, run and fly

The splashing of the water became more intricate, with more members now on stage.

“Wow.”

The familiarity of the original song, paired with its intensity, meant the audience was experiencing an incredible sense of immersion. The melody flowed, the song unfolding quickly. As the audience waved their lightsticks, completely engaged in the watery performance…

My mood’s shining like the stars

Promise me you’ll come with me

Make you fly

The song hurtled toward its end, passing the bridge before long. The choreography became more subdued, and the lights directed at the water began to dim. It seemed almost as if it had grown too dark, but then the entire hall began to glitter.

“Whoa!”

The gamer was taken aback. Her lightstick was flickering wildly. All the lightsticks in the audience—or perhaps it was the countless tiny points of light in the ceiling above the stage—shone like constellations.

To the island beyond the horizon, beyond the sea

It’ll be a glittering day

It was a beautiful sight. The boy, who had sunk to the bottom of the ocean thanks to the weight of his past, returned to reality and to earth—a place where stars could be seen shining in the sky. The water had all but completely drained away as the members left the stage and ran toward the stars.

Umm, umm umm

Then, it was time for the concert’s ending. Now free of the water, the members ran to the very front of the thrust stage and launched into the final choreography of the night. The lights were no longer blue, and the golden light and confetti made the hall feel like a warm desert in summer. This was the true climax and finale—a neat, pleasant end to the story that left no loose ends.

[“Thank you!”]

TeSTAR wrapped up the story, the boy having assumed an utterly complete idol persona now. The gamer watched, feeling dazed. She felt refreshing, but intense emotion coursing through her.

The members soon came forward one by one and bowed, just like one would during a theater curtain call. Their first fan song, “You Are the Magic,” began to play.

I feel good today

Like something great’s about to happen

They jumped around when their respective parts started, wearing head microphones and spreading out across the different branches of the stage to interact with the audience.

“Moondae!”

“Oh my god! Over here!”

This part was meant for the fans disappointed not to have more interaction, and the crowd sang along to the second fan song and “Picnic,” making this last segment stretch on.

The gamer was not at all bored. She remained in her seat for a long time, even after it was over, just like the other fans. When everything had finally ended, she checked her phone.

[10:31 P.M.]

The concert had begun at six thirty. Four hours had passed in the blink of an eye, as if by magic.

“My god…” She pressed her head against the chair in front of her.

As they exited the venue and began the trip home, the two friends stifled laughter as they watched their gamer friend, who was obviously very moved by the concert.

“So, what do you think? Was it worth the ticket cost?”

Their reason for asking this was obvious, but the gamer gave them what they wanted regardless.

“Yes… It was fun. I didn’t even realize so much time had passed.” This sort of entertainment was well worth the money spent. In fact, love for these idols was growing inside her, even as she spoke. In the end, she muttered, her voice full of wonder, “Gosh… He was so good.”

“…!”

The two friends exchanged glances. If she was referring to vocals or fan service, it was likely she was talking about Moondae!

“Who?”

“Who do you like best?”

It was a tense moment. With a serious look on her face, the gamer said, “I… liked all of them.”

“…?”

“I love the way they work together as a group. They’re seriously…perfect.”

She had become a fan of every member equally—a phenomenon that was as rare as it was valuable.

Similar testimonies were appearing all across the internet, but the performers themselves were experiencing a simpler feeling of joy.

***

It was eleven at night, and we were still in the practice room, unable to go home because of a feedback issue. The mood between the members was good, however, since the concert had been a great success.

“We killed it!”

“It was the best!”

“Incredible!”

Everyone seemed to have energy left over even after performing such a nuts setlist, and their smiles could not be wiped from their faces.

So it was worth the money, huh? The thrill of succeeding at something new was always an incredible feeling, especially if it was something as big as a concert.

I summarized neatly, “Your idea was fantastic.”

“Oh, don’t be like that! All I did was add a bit of spice to a finished setlist! We incorporated plenty of your ideas, too, Moondae!” Big Sejin said.

Why was he bothering to pretend when he couldn’t keep the smile off his face? In any case, the W Live following the last concert would be long, just like a last-day wrap-up party, and all we needed to do now was celebrate our successes and do a little housekeeping.

I had a few had more things to say.

“Eugene, this part looked a bit precarious for you,” I said.

“I did great!”

“Yes, you did. But I’m asking that you land a little safer next time.”

I passed by the members who were giving feedback to one other and found the person I was looking for.

“Kim Raebin.”

“Yes!”

Raebin had been speaking with Ahyeon regarding their subunit performance. After exchanging a few words with Ahyeon, I sat down beside Raebin and got right down to business.

“How was it?”

“Huh?”

“How was the performance?”

He seemed a little tense, but he gave his response without backing down. “Uh, I was very worried that I wouldn’t be able to do music produced by other people the justice it deserved…” After this preface, he finally answered the question. “I think I did quite well this time.”

There we go.

“Of course, I’m aware that it was mostly Ahyeon who did the heavy lifting. He did such an excellent job, but still…” Raebin’s eyes gleamed. “I think I’m quite capable!”

This response told me he’d gained the strong core I was hoping he would. I smiled and asked again.

“You think you can do it again?”

“Yes!”

Good. After hearing this firm response, I summoned up his status window without hesitation. I saw exactly what I’d been expecting.

[Status abnormality: Repeat Sign (deactivated)]

His status abnormality had been deactivated.

Finally. It hadn’t been entirely wiped from this status window, so perhaps it would come back to haunt him at some stage, but I was no longer worried for now. He would be able to overcome any slumps on his own from now on, since he’d managed it once before. And he now knew for sure that it would turn out okay even if he quit producing our music himself. That was good enough for me.

“Good work,” I said.

“Not at all… I’m very grateful! I’ll continue doing my best,” he said, bowing. Ahyeon clapped, his face slightly red.

Things had turned out pretty well. I wouldn’t have to worry about the music on our next album now.

Now there’s only one loose end left. I leaned back against the practice room wall and mentally phrased how I was going to present the idea I’d been considering for a few days now.

“I have a suggestion to make,” I said.

“Huh?”

I raised my hand as we were on the way back to the dorm in the van, the time coming up to midnight. “It’s about that arrangement channel we made.”

“Oh, that.”

I was talking about the official offer made regarding the game theme music that we’d set aside because we had too little time to deal with it.

I said calmly, “If we wanted to try it, I see no problem with accepting their offer.”

“B-but how does that work?”

Simply put…

“We can donate the proceeds.”

“…?”

We could give up the money. It was as easy as that.

“We’ll funnel the profits to a charity when we sign the contract.”

None of us had any reason to be particularly hung up over the money, anyway. It was a waste to just get rid of the WeTube account, and we wanted to avoid attracting unnecessary attention, if possible. So we could simply agree to the proposal from the game company just this once and keep on using the same account.

“If it’s an anonymous donation, we don’t have to worry about tax evasion, either. There will be no issues even if people find out the truth further down the line. As for our identities, we can simply create a corporate entity.”

“Oh…”

Whoever was behind the offer at T1 Plays would not bother trying to illegally gather information about some beginner business.

“I see! I have no problems with doing that, since I’m not too worried about the money, either,” Raebin said cheerfully.

Though he didn’t seem aware of it, as the person who had the greatest claim to the proceeds, because he’d responded in this way anyone else who was interested in the revenue would now be forced to shut up. It probably didn’t matter, since it seemed nobody had much interest in the money anyhow.

Bae Sejin asked in a confused voice, “Can’t we just say we don’t want any money for the music?”

This would not do.

“If people find out we were behind this… They’ll say we have so much money that we don’t give a damn about how intellectual property is handled.”

Bae Sejin was silent in response to this.

“It won’t be just a controversy about our behavior—there would be talk about how we’re contributing negatively to the industry regarding copyright law.”

Public opinion was never kind when it came to idols. We had to take all of that into account. I looked past Bae Sejin, who seemed to be feeling a mixture of shock and disillusionment.

“So, I thought it’d be best to anonymously donate the proceeds if we’re going to do this… What do you guys think?”

The others soon responded, giving their easy agreement, just as I’d expected.

“I like that idea!” Big Sejin said.

“So do I!” Eugene said.

Chungwoo smiled as well and said, “Yes. That seems fine.”

In the end, we agreed unanimously.

I rubbed the back of my neck. Our composition retreat account would live on without problems.

“All right, then.”

The TeSTAR arrangement account, the content of which mostly belonged to Raebin, was green lit.

“So All-Star Music is going to get its own career, then!”

The channel All-Star Music would respond to T1 Plays soon. I had been against choosing that name for the account. I didn’t see the need to connect the name to TeSTAR in that way, but I’d been outvoted.

My plans don’t always work out, after all. The funny thing was, things did not go exactly according to plan this time, either. A few days after we officially signed a contract with T1 Plays, posts began to appear on the internet.

[The arrangement WeTuber flexing their generosity]

[The result of untiring effort (photos)]

[Who the hell is All-Star Music?]

“…?”

We did not need to look far in order to figure out what had happened. The staff member from T1 Plays had left a public comment on one of our videos.

- Thank you for signing on with us! As you stipulated, All-Star Music, your signing bonus will go to the Heavenly Sound Children’s Foundation in full. (smiling face emoji)

- We were moved by your generosity and have decided to match your donation to the same charity!

The comments in response read as follows.

- They did what?

- I don’t believe it

- All-Star Music, you are an all-star!

- Holy crap, this is what you call a serious flex

We had no idea what to say to this.

“Should we just ignore it?”

“Sounds good.”

After sending a single complaint email about the whole affair being exposed online, we dropped the matter. As our secret identity gained unexpected popularity, the weather grew colder, and we raced ever closer to an important occasion.

The end of the year loomed closer.