Chapter 321

Chapter 321

My senses slowly recalibrated, as I tried to take in the murmuring of the people standing in front of the stage, the noise made by the equipment and the swaying lightsticks. I was back.

Someone gripped my shoulder. I turned and found Big Sejin and the other members looking at me. He was smiling, but his grip on my shoulder was tight. It seemed he’d been the one to call out to me.

I must have swayed on my feet or something. I recalled I’d nearly passed out at our Idol Inc. debut after seeing a flashback for the first time. Perhaps the situation was similar, but the time difference from my point of view this time was huge. I glanced over at the other members’ faces.

It’s been a while for me. Everyone was here, from Chungwoo who stood at the edge of the group, to Bae Sejin. I’d actually met Bae Sejin only a few days ago, but the look on his face was so different from early on in our career that it was jarring.

I’ve known him for a while now. Our group was four years old. If we’d been students, it would have been equivalent to attending the same high school and starting at the same college. We’d formed a team with seven complete strangers whom we’d had no part in choosing and come all this way. It was a pretty rare experience.

I suddenly had the emotional thought that I couldn’t have done better, even if I’d selected the members myself using the status window and their stats. It was rather odd. I looked at Raebin, whose gaze was unsteady, and stifled a laugh.

It’s as you said.

“We didn’t meet for the purpose of friendship, but I believe we can still be very good friends!”

There was something between us that went beyond simply continuing as a group because we were doing well. The same went for the many people waving lightsticks in front of us. I gave the members a small nod and turned back around.

These people were all rooting for TeSTAR, and I was standing before them as TeSTAR’s Park Moondae. After all I’d been through, this remained the bottom line. I was in trouble. Perhaps because of the words I’d heard in the mindscape only moments before, I was feeling really emotional.

Not good. Then I noticed words appearing on the teleprompter.

[Please say a few words quickly.]

“…!”

Right. I pulled myself together. That I had a task I needed to see to right away pulled me back into reality. I’d stood frozen in place for three, four seconds—as if people didn’t already complain at every awards ceremony that the speeches were too long!

I hope they understand, though, since this is the first daesang we’re getting fair and square based on our performance.

I grinned and took the microphone. “I paused for a bit too long there, didn’t I? Sorry about that. I guess I’m nervous.”

The crowd tittered quietly. I didn’t think I’d said anything all that amusing, but I supposed I had nothing to complain about.

“It feels like a very long time that we’ve been TeSTAR—but at the same time, it seems very short.” I paused for breath. “The moment I decided to try to become an idol feels like just yesterday.”

I’d started the journey because I’d been threatened with death totally out of the blue.

“I had no confidence that I would make it very far, given how little I knew about the industry. But I was given the chance, so I joined the show.”

I wouldn’t have even considered trying if there hadn’t been a threat looming over me.

But then again… I recalled what I’d said to Big Moon right before I woke up.

“Not that I knew I wanted to be an idol. But it seems I did.”

It was very easy to picture the way people with hidden cameras in front of the stage at this very moment were filming me, avoiding detection from security. I’d done it plenty of times myself. I hadn’t bothered to examine the cause of the satisfaction I’d felt, since I’d never considered that I might one day be on the stage myself, looking down at those who were filming just like I had.

“But after meeting the other members and our fans, we became TeSTAR, and look how far we’ve come already.”

That I found the experience of standing on stage myself more genuinely exciting meant that being a paparazzo had been about vicarious enjoyment for me. And discovering this sense of joy for myself due to my Infinite Potential trait might have made the taste of victory sweeter—but that wasn’t the case.

Not at all. So many variables had come together just right, and I wasn’t the only one responsible. We were a group, after all.

“This award aside… I think I made the right decision back then. I am… very happy.”

I’d never expected to make such an embarrassing admission, but we were receiving a daesang. People would understand, and even if they didn’t, it didn’t matter.

“I believe the other members feel the same way.”

I threw my arm around Ahyeon, who was standing next to me.

“…!”

He looks taken aback. I’d expected him to accept the gesture naturally, thanks to the mood, and realized suddenly that I’d nearly embarrassed us both. He didn’t seem unhappy about my arm around him, however, so I looked around at the others and finished giving my speech.

“Thanks guys.”

The others began to look oddly moved. The crowd suddenly began to applaud all at once. This was encouragement for our hard work and a celebration of our accomplishments.

My god. The lightsticks bobbed enthusiastically, accompanied by loud cheering. I accepted that I was one of the seven professional idols on stage who were now hugging each other. My thoughts wandered to someone else. I wonder if he returned safely.

My arms still around the others, and thinking of the person who was probably watching on his TV, I concluded with, “Thank you so much.” It was a thank-you that was meant for a great many people.

***

Triumphant music began blasting from the speakers, a not-so-subtle reminder to finish up our speech and get off the stage as soon as possible. We moved backstage with our trophy. There would be a short break and then we would perform.

This was probably why the presentation of the first daesang had been positioned the way it had in the schedule. I carried the trophy, thinking as I walked.

I’ll have to make sure the other members have a turn to speak no matter what at the next daesang. As my good reason returned, I realized I had gotten a little ahead of myself.

People are probably criticizing me online for that right now. Next time, I’ll have the members who haven’t given speeches before prepare in advance… My thoughts were interrupted, however, as I was bombarded with questions before we’d even arrived at the changing room. It started with Big Sejin.

“Park Moondae. You okay?”

“…?”

“You nearly fell over just now. Tell us if you don’t feel well. They can give you a painkiller before we perform.”

So that was why he’d grabbed my shoulder. I understood why he was acting this way now. I need to figure out how bad it was.

“I nearly fell over?”

“I-I-I thought you were going to pass out…” Ahyeon muttered, pale.

It seemed I’d swayed more violently than I’d thought.

Uh oh. I needed to try and make an excuse. I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck.

“Sorry. This is our first daesang… so I couldn’t think of what to say. I guess I was nervous.”

“You were… nervous?”

“You…?”

Why do you sound so skeptical, you bastards?

I tried to remain calm. “Of course.”

“Stop right there.”

“Manager, can you get us a thermometer, please?”

Their skepticism was getting out of hand. It gave me a sense of their opinion of me.

I put my hands up in the air. “Look, I’m perfectly fine. It just… it felt really great.”

The others looked almost shocked, and I grinned as I looked at each of them.

“It’s our first daesang. Hey, I can get as emotional as the next person.”

“Moondae…”

Their confusion was replaced with warmth. I’d known this would work, since they were all excited about their first daesang.

“Yeah… It makes sense you feel that way,” Chungwoo said.

“I know I’m saying this a little late, but I think your speech was amazing!”

Good. The more soft-hearted ones are already convinced. And it’s not like I was lying. It was true that I felt really good. I handed the trophy over to the members who were drunk on dopamine.

“Let’s keep it up next year.”

“Y-y-yes!”

“Very good!” Eugene said

Chungwoo smiled proudly at the display of team solidarity, then concluded gently, “I’m still going to take your temperature, Moondae.”

I had nothing to say to this.

As you please. As I changed, I was informed that my temperature was normal. Absurd as the thought was, I felt like I’d just overcome some kind of crisis.

“Thirteen minutes to go!” someone shouted at us.

At the same time, however, I realized there was a much bigger problem.

Goddamn it. I tried my best to remember, but in the end, I was forced to approach Ahyeon.

“Ahyeon.”

“Y-yeah?”

I asked him quickly, “Can you give me a quick run-through of the revised choreography?”

“Moondae, what is it? Suddenly can’t remember the choreography?” Big Sejin said.

You’re too perceptive for your own good.

“I think winning and giving the speech really got me worked up. I just need a refresher.”

“Oh, okay.”

I’m not lying, damn it. I haven’t been singing or dancing for days. We were about to perform a revised choreography that we’d only be performing at this specific awards show. I’d practiced it for just a week right before entering Ryu Gunwoo’s body. I was starting to sweat over the idea that I might not remember it properly on stage.

“Anyhow, give me a refresher, please.”

“Sure! L-let’s go through it right now!” Ahyeon said.

Thankfully, perhaps because we didn’t have much time left, we got to it immediately without further ado. I was able to catch up quickly with two of the dance members helping me.

“You kick here, spin… Use the tip of your foot at this point here, then move on to…”

“Moondae, you went half a beat too fast! Careful!”

“Okay.”

“I know the choreography better than anyone else. I want to teach you!” Eugene said.

“Eugene, want to get us some drinks, please?”

I had the choreography memorized in three minutes with their help. I was the sort of person who preferred to get things done on my own, but it was nice having so many people ready to help me.

***

This evening, the first reputable end-of-the-year music awards ceremony of the year was being broadcast.

- I think Park Moondae nearly passed out just now

- He’s such an attention whore…

- Isn’t he pushing himself too hard? It must be because of the accident T_T He needs to be careful

- He just seems moved. Don’t jump to conclusions, you idiots

The live chat was enough to make someone grow very quickly sick of the human race. The fansite master for both Big Sejin and Moondae, who was also an office worker, tutted to herself. The chat doing her head in was normal, however. It was something else that was bothering her now.

I can’t believe he got so emotional. Moondae had always been extremely cool-headed and reasonable. Strangely, he’d looked deeply moved today. He’d paused for a bit too long before his speech, nearly lost his footing, looked around at the members, and gone on a tangent that lasted too long… All things Moondae was not known for. She didn’t know if there was a reason for his peculiar behavior, or if the daesang just really meant that much to him.

But his speech wasn’t half bad… She nodded to herself. She could understand why Lee Sejin had let Moondae speak. Because the public saw him as almost inhumanly logical, seeing him get so emotional just this once was more attractive than it was annoying. His actions had basically the same impact as bursting into tears.

The reactions in the chat changed a bit by the time Moondae was done.

- This is so touching

- Park Moondae seems just like a puppy right now. Oh my god

- T_T

- TeSTAR, thanks for all your hard work

- See? I told you, you bastards

What was more, his final act on stage had seemed to confirm his love for the members. The series of gestures had really moved the viewers.

This sort of thing sure is effective. There was a reason that compilations of reactions from artists who had gotten their first-place award on a music show for the first time could easily be found on WeTube. People enjoyed watching the downfall of celebrities, but they also liked it when stars were overwhelmed by a great accomplishment. And TeSTAR’s emotions had felt like the real deal—raw and perfectly to their taste. The fansite master nodded, satisfied.

Nicely done. Not that Moondae had orchestrated all this. In fact, he was anticipating some criticism. Regardless, TeSTAR’s daesang speech would go down as a touching one, despite his contrary expectations.

The awards ceremony season was only just beginning, and TeSTAR was set to receive the spotlight many times more this season.