Chapter 328

Chapter 328

I’d encountered Bae Sejin once before while in Gunwoo’s body.

Though all I did was encourage him in front of the sink. I’d suspected that perhaps Bae Sejin had been left with a deep impression of that moment. I’d never considered, however, that he might remember what Gunwoo looked like.

He’d probably seen tens of thousands of fans by this point. How could he remember the face of one he’d only met once, and one that had worn a hat pulled down over part of his face to boot? But the way he’d pointed while shouting made it obvious that he did remember. There was no point in second-guessing. Bae Sejin had recognized him.

Ugh. I’d been wearing earphones, so he wouldn’t have heard Ryu Gunwoo call me Gunwoo, at least. Good. I spoke as soon as I’d figured out what was going on, keeping things natural. I spoke to the person I was talking to.

“Hey, I’ll call you back.”

“Huh? Oh. Okay…”

I couldn’t give Bae Sejin time to gather himself. I’d nip any weird ideas in the bud and try to salvage the situation. But he moved before I could continue.

Grabbing my arm, he whispered, “You… you found him!”

“…!”

“It’s that guy… from the video, right?”

I quickly took in what this meant.

Oh. So that’s how he knows. I remembered now. When I’d been watching Chungwoo’s home videos, Bae Sejin had been there, too. It seemed that he remembered Ryu Gunwoo’s face after studying it carefully multiple times—or maybe it was just because I’d been unhinged enough to show up unannounced at our coworker’s home on the evening of a holiday, just to shuffle through some family videos.

I managed to say, “Yes… It’s him.”

“I knew it!” Bae Sejin said, staring at Gunwoo on the screen with a look of recognition.

Even so, he’s got a pretty good eye. Gunwoo had been quite young in the home video, and the person now inhabiting the body was different, which made his face look slightly different as well. And yet he hadn’t failed to recognize him.

“Uh… Do you want me to say hello?”

No. You stay put. I glanced at the screen as Bae Sejin asked me a question.

“How did you find him?”

“A member of Chungwoo’s family got in touch with him.”

I offered a few more details in order to avoid rousing suspicion that something weird was going on. I’ll leave it here.

“I went out with him a few days ago, you remember right? That’s when I met him and exchanged numbers.”

“Hmm… Okay.”

He didn’t seem aware that Chungwoo and I had left at all.

Not surprising. He’s not Big Sejin. He didn’t leave his room often, even though Eugene was his roommate. In any case, the issue seemed settled.

I nodded and said, “I was going to tell you, since you went with me to see the home videos at Chungwoo’s. Thank you.”

“Uh… It’s nothing. I didn’t do anything. In any case, that’s great news. Tell me if there’s anything I can help you with…” Bae Sejin murmured. Then he did something unexpectedly gregarious. When his eyes met Gunwoo’s on the screen, he actually said hello. “So this is your… Ahem. Hello.”

“Huh? Oh, hello.”

Why was Big Moon greeting Bae Sejin back? He knew I was wearing earphones.

“Oh, he can’t hear what I’m saying, can he?”

So you finally figured it out?

“What is he saying…?” Bae Sejin asked.

“One second.”

Since we’d come this far already, I supposed it was only natural that I let them say hello briefly.

I stared at the screen and said clearly, “Gunwoo. He can’t hear you… so if you’re all right with it, I’m going to put you on speaker.”

I was warning him to be ready.

“Sure!” he said, immediately changing his tone of voice, apparently eager not to make a mistake this time. His expression changed, too.

Wait, is he mimicking me?

His face seemed to relax, and he said in a firmer voice, “Hello. I’m Ryu Gunwoo.”

It didn’t suit him at all.

“Yes… Uh, I’m Bae Sejin. I’m from the same group as Moondae.”

Bae Sejin returned to his usual state of being as soon as they began to talk—it was as though the spark of extroversion had drained from his body. He sure wasn’t cut out for being friendly to new people. It was a welcome change, however, that the mood was just sort of chill, since the guy on the screen was being almost excessively polite. I liked this sense of distance, it was less stressful for me.

Let’s keep things this way.

“Yes. I’m a big fan, by the way. Congratulations on the daesang!”

“Thank you…” Bae Sejin said and then paused. An odd look appeared on his face as he moved away from the camera and whispered to me, “Uh… Does he work in entertainment broadcasting?”

“…?”

I had no idea where this was coming from.

“No. Why do you ask?”

“Well… I just have the feeling that I’ve seen him before—” He stopped short, then stared at the guy who was still mimicking me on the screen.

That can’t be a good thing.

I spoke immediately. “Gunwoo, I’ll talk to you next time—”

“Wait,” Bae Sejin said, putting his hand up. Then he spoke as if uncertain. “Did we meet once, a few years back? It was at a concert hall, and we talked in front of the bathroom sink, about giving an autograph…”

There’s nothing to be too worried about. Calm down. He’s not sure. He’d been reminded of the moment by the circumstances and was just confirming to see if he was right. It wasn’t the Gunwoo on the screen who’d met him, anyway. Big Moon would probably be able to deny any knowledge without any problems.

“Oh! You mean in that bathroom at…”

Wait, you weren’t supposed to act like you remember. So you remember it too because you were a disembodied voice tagging along at the time? I stared coldly between the two excited faces. The Gunwoo on the screen had reacted far too warmly, and it made Bae Sejin certain right away.

“I knew it!”

“Wow. I didn’t think you would remember…”

“Of course I do. Thank you so much for what you said back then.” Bae Sejin seemed a little conflicted, but then added, “You were… really encouraging. I ended up looking up a lot of helpful comments, thanks to you.”

“Ahem. I see.”

What are you looking so proud of yourself for?

I was nonplussed, but he seemed a bit excited as he continued, “I think past me would be very happy to hear that!”

Past me? Don’t tell me he led the conversation in this direction on purpose. Did you want me to hear that? I stared at him, speechless. Big Moon smiled proudly, obviously forgetting that he’d been trying to act like me.

Bae Sejin cleared his throat beside me, seeming shy. “Right. I’m happy to have the opportunity to talk to you like this as well. I wasn’t even able to give you my autograph back then…”

That encounter had been nothing special, but I supposed it was a good thing that it had helped Bae Sejin. It had been just a small incident, and perhaps it was better that they were having this conversation now and moving on rather than having it later, and possibly working themselves into a big fuss about it.

I grinned. “I said I’d give him a signed album when we release our next one.”

“Oh. Yeah, that sounds like a great idea.”

“I’m so looking forward to it…”

“Uh, I’m honored,” Bae Sejin said.

The mood seemed to relax—or rather, Bae Sejin seemed to get over his shyness.

They’ll start making small talk at this rate. I didn’t want any problems cropping up from this conversation, so I put an end to it, for real this time.

“Gunwoo, your retreat continues tomorrow, right? I must have taken up too much of your time.”

“R-right! I’m sorry, but I need to go now.”

“Oh, right. Uh… Thank you.”

Big Moon got the message this time, and the call finally ended.

Bae Sejin stared at the screen, which had gone dark, and muttered with an odd look on his face, “So he was really a fan…”

I figured it would be strange if I didn’t ask for details.

“Do you know each other?”

“Not exactly… He said a few words of encouragement as a fan… It was only a few seconds, though! I had no idea he was the person you were looking for! It’s not that I kept him a secret from you even though I knew you were looking for him…”

“Of course. It’s impossible to remember every face you see.”

“R-right.”

Bae Sejin seemed a bit relieved and sighed. “Still… This is pretty cool. You and I were both helped by the same person… I wasn’t expecting that. I guess maybe it was more than just coincidence.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Ahem… It does feel a little odd to learn that someone who encouraged me so early on is still a fan…”

“It’s probably because you’re doing a good job.”

“Y-yeah? Hem… I wouldn’t say that, exactly, but thanks…”

“Don’t mention it.”

Now Bae Sejin seemed excited. “Sh-shouldn’t we mention stuff like this on variety shows? No?”

Don’t get carried away.

“Or we could just keep it to ourselves as a nice shared memory. But more importantly, you said there was something urgent…”

“Oh!” He seemed to remember what he’d come to find me about. “Right! The company got in touch!”

Hmm. And this is something that warrants him running out here to talk to me? They weren’t going to surrender. I crossed my arms.

“The agency?”

“No… The company above them!” Bae Sejin shouted, seeming a little excited. “T1 Entertainment got in touch with us!”

The parent company had intervened, it seemed.

I followed Bae Sejin into his room. It seemed that Eugene had been told to tell the other members as well, since a few of them had already gathered there.

“I’m home! As you instructed, I left without anyone on the A&R Team seeing me!” Raebin said as he returned from the studio, the last member to join us.

Our briefing then began.

“We got an offer,” Chungwoo said.

“An offer?”

He gave us a simple run down. T1 Entertainment had sent an email directly to us that hadn’t passed through the agency. It was from the same staff member we’d talked to about a dedicated management team in the past, and the message was representative of the board.

I listened, rubbing my chin before summarizing, “So… They want us to form a label that is their immediate affiliate.”

“Yes.”

We would be a direct affiliate of T1 themselves, not the agency T1 Stars.

That’s nuts. This was a seriously generous offer. They’d even sent us an example of how the payment processing would change, and how much we would gain from the arrangement.

“What about the agency?”

“They didn’t mention anything about the agency.”

This was unsurprising.

They’ll be f*cked, plain and simple. I suppose that’s why they didn’t mention the agency. Originally, even if we had created a label, only the planning and activities would have been independent—the accounting, such as the processing of sales, would have still been done by T1 Stars.

Our sales would have still counted toward the agency’s, as a subsidiary label. But if we did things this way, we would be able to completely part ways with the agency. It would be a transfer, pure and simple. We would take the dedicated management team with us as well, and the agency would suffer a huge hit to their business. We didn’t have to worry about retaliation, either, since the parent company had our back.

“That means… we’ll be able to leave the agency entirely!”

“Wow!”

This was the ideal escape. A few of the members were already clapping, apparently finding the news rather joyous.

Hmm. This isn’t good. I raised an eyebrow. What they were offering was far too generous, that much was obvious. Anyone who had even a remote interest in entertainment would see this huge deal and judge that TeSTAR was T1’s most valuable asset—which would be a problem.

We can’t have our reputation tied too closely to T1’s. T1 was a large corporation that expanded its business in all sorts of random directions, which had negatively impacted its reputation. Especially when it came to the entertainment business, they’d chosen a clickbait strategy focused on K-pop that invited hate, for “ruining the industry.” We definitely didn’t want people to start to think that T1 was serious about having our back.

We won’t just be enjoying the benefits of a large corporation—we’ll be the key element of their entertainment business. We’d already experienced a huge fuss during the Rookie of the Year awards for abusing our affiliation with corporate-owned broadcasters. It was likely that we’d be criticized right alongside T1 whenever they did something stupid. Whenever something happened from now on, we would be painted as the perpetrators.

And that’s not even the worst of it. There was another even more troubling outcome.

We can’t give the public the impression that the company is in complete support of our decisions. A business’s plans were never going to unfold perfectly every time. There would be problems—and the same was true in the idol business. If a problem arose, someone would have to take responsibility. If we started off on the wrong foot and let T1 give everyone the impression that they respected everything we did, we’d become the scapegoats.

- T1 being T1 again

- F*ck, T1, just let them go

Instead of these sorts of comments, we would get the following.

- LOL… Please, guys, get a grip

- Whichever member planned these promotions needs to realize they have no brain and stay away from the planning next time, got it?

I couldn’t let that happen.

It needs to seem as though T1 and TeSTAR have a conflict of interest. The moment this was not maintained, something absurd could happen—for instance, our fans could get defensive of T1 when they made a mistake because they were linked with us, or blame us right alongside the company. In the long run, this was not a good thing. I remained silent.

“What does everyone think? I think this sounds all right!”

“M-me too!”

I wasn’t sure, though, that I could convince the members. They already seemed excited.

My reason for having reservations isn’t exactly pleasant. We needed to leave room for people to blame the company for anything they didn’t like about us, and this deal would make that difficult. But saying this out loud didn’t sound great. I knew at least three members who wouldn’t find the argument terribly convincing. It’d be nice if there was an emotional element to this.

Kim Raebin said in a glum voice, “So we’ll be parting ways with some of the A&R Team members, right?”

“…!”

Well said. This is it.

“Why don’t we just take them all with us?”

“That won’t be easy. The agency won’t make things easy for us,” I said, taking a firm tone on purpose.

“We’ll already be doing a lot of damage by taking the dedicated management team with us. It won’t be easy to take anyone else.”

“Hmm…”

“Th-then what happens to those we can’t take with us?” Raebin asked.

“Their circumstances will no doubt get more difficult.”

Raebin paled.

I folded my arms. “That doesn’t mean we have to stay for their sake. Each to their own.”

“Right…” Ahyeon cautiously raised his hand. “Uh, guys…”

“Yeah?”

“Why can’t we just stay here and get rid of anyone bad? I-is that possible?”

I replied calmly, “Yes, it would be.”

“Y-yeah… I suppose…” Chungwoo spoke. “We’ll be able to stop them from doing anything unpleasant in the future, right?”

“…!”

“Aren’t I right?”

He was backing me up, which was surprising. I nodded. “Yes. We can do that.”

“Oh! I like that idea. Let’s fight!” Eugene said, changing positions immediately. It was just like him.

Bae Sejin murmured, “Not a bad idea…”

Yeah. I thought you’d like it.

“Then why don’t we consider this as an option, too?” I asked.

They weren’t reacting badly to the suggestion.

There.

I intertwined my fingers. “In that case, let’s wait… until we’ve all agreed on one option or the other.”

“Wait?”

“Negotiations have progressed to a point where I think we can afford to wait.” I turned to Big Sejin, who was seated beside me. “As he said before, we’ll have even more clout once we have a few more daesangs under our belt.”

“…!”

In other words, we’d wait until the other parties involved were at their most anxious. Big Sejin’s eyes widened. Then he grinned, and I smiled along with him.

“Let’s wait until then,” Big Sejin said.

TeSTAR received a total of thirty-two more trophies during the awards ceremony season, and five of them were daesangs. It was only then that we set the deal we wanted in motion.