Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Big Sejin smiled wryly. “My agency... is Happy Friends.”

“Oh.”

This told the idol trainees in the room everything they needed to know and I also knew exactly what he was referring to, given my experiences selling fancams in my previous life.

That agency is infamously clumsy when it comes to dealing with scandals. I realized then that no one from his agency had bothered contacting Big Sejin despite all the noise that was being generated about him. It had already been an hour since the post was uploaded and it was starting to spread across social media. A good-sized agency with its finger on the pulse would already have gotten in touch.

“Well... they’re good about producing albums for their artists, at least, which is why I joined. Haha...” Big Sejin laughed hollowly, before clambering off his bed.

“W-why don’t we ask one of your f-friends to upload for you? Y-you’ve got lots of them,” Seon Ahyeon said.

“Uh... we’re not allowed to post on the internet until filming is over, so maybe I can ask some of the guys I know. I have a few friends who’d be more than willing to help if I called them.”

I wondered if I should just leave him to his own devices—I already kind of regretted getting as involved as I had. But I’d already been doling out advice, so decided I’d offer some more while I was at it.

“If you ask someone to do it for you, you’ll be leaving tracks. I think it would work out better if you tell the production team that you’re going to upload the photos yourself.”

I was trying to skirt around why he needed to be more careful since the person responsible for the accusations was probably in his circle of friends. Big Sejin seemed to understand what I was trying to say almost immediately and nodded.

“That seems like a better idea. Let’s see.” He opened a note app on his phone, then glanced at our teammates, who were all still gathered around. He grinned. “Thanks for figuring this out with me, guys. I know you must be tired. I’ll write this up by myself. Get some sleep.”

“Hey, we can’t just go to bed during an ongoing situation,” Goldie #1 objected, sounding worried.

“If none of us get any sleep, there will be hell to pay tomorrow...” Big Sejin responded gravely.

He was right, there was a boatload of things that still needed to be done tomorrow. It was a very persuasive argument, since in the end, the rest of the team returned to their beds, all looking rather worse for wear.

I lay down in my bed and fell asleep easily enough, but sadly woke up early in the morning because I was thirsty.

I guess I talked a little too much before bed. I got up quietly and headed to the sink, and Big Sejin, who’d been tapping away at his phone seated at the table, looked up.

“Oh, Moondae. You’re not asleep?”

“I was thirsty.”

“I see.”

Apparently, he hadn’t finished writing his explanation, since he was still awake. That, or he was still reading through the comment section. Neither option was good.

“Are you done?” I asked.

“Uh... Yeah, I wrote it, but...” He looked down at his phone wearing a conflicted expression, pausing for a moment before continuing. “I couldn’t shake the feeling that people wouldn’t like it if I uploaded the post myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, they might say it was unfair to the other contestants that I was using social media to communicate with the public while filming is still in progress... If my tone is too firm, they might criticize my personality, and if I sound too gentle, they’ll think I really am guilty.”

These were all valid concerns.

“So I thought I would just pretend to be an anonymous friend of mine. Want to look it over?”

Big Sejin handed me his phone.

========================

[I’m a friend of Big Sejin.]

The photo in the accusatory post that was uploaded today is fake. I happened to have the original photo saved.

(Original) (Fake)

The second is a cropped and manipulated version of the first.

========================

I stared at the post without saying anything.

“What do you think?”

How should I say this? This explanation of things would have been good enough in a school setting, perhaps. It covered all the necessary parts and mentioned the most important information first, meaning it was easily legible to anyone who read it.

The problem was, it wasn’t good enough for an anonymous internet site. Without really meaning to, I turned and looked longingly at my bed. It was waiting for me. But if I told him to upload this as-is, all the effort I’d already gone to in the middle of the night would go to waste.

Ugh… I’ll just... sleep tomorrow, I guess.

“This won’t work...”

“What?”

“It won’t work.”

Unwillingly, I retrieved my phone. So I’m doing it for him in the end, goddamn it.

***

Three in the morning, when most people were asleep in their beds, only the most die-hard of netizens were up and whiling away the hours chatting about mundane things. Big Sejin’s scandal had already swept through the internet once and was already only mentioned sporadically in passing by now. It was under these conditions that a post was uploaded to an anonymous community site that focused on idol news.

========================

[Guys, I think I found a photo of Big Sejin.]

(Fake photo) Isn’t the original version of this photo, the one attached below? (original photo)

========================

Attached to the post was a group photo of Big Sejin and some other students whose faces had been blurred. The post was light-hearted and labeled with an IP address associated with customers of a well-known internet service provider. Anyone remaining awake on the site soon flocked to it.

- Oh my gosh

- What the?

- Where’d you get this?

- Guys, this looks legit

- I’m saving this post

- So they cropped him out of the original?

- How’d you know?

└ My friend had group photos from Big Sejin’s school posted on his private account, so I looked through them

└ What are you, a stalker?

└ Wha? You guys would have done the same thing

└ LOL he’s got that right

└ Wow, they blurred everyone else’s faces. Scared of legal action, huh?

The comment section exploded, racking up replies more and more quickly, as the original poster started answering some questions, and before long, someone had even created a perfect side-by-side comparison shot.

- Look, I put them together. It’s a perfect match (photo)

└ Oh god

└ Yep, that’s a match

└ Oh sh*t

- LOL it was really a fake? What kind of loser tries to pull something like this?

- Wow I thought Big Sejin’s stock was about to be delisted. It was all made up?

└ LOL This is totally crazy

└ Buy all the stock you can right now

The comments were blowing up, and soon enough, someone even dug up that the picture of Big Sejin had been taken during his student body campaign.

- I found a similar photo on the Cheongsol High website. I think it’s from the student body election campaign? (link)

└ Holy cow, so op has some kind of inferiority complex?

└ I knew something was up the moment that guy started out by mentioning the election LOL

└ Wow, I guess the poster was really set on getting him kicked off the show, huh?

└ He’s probably pissed as all hell right now that he was caught LOL

At this point, screenshots of this second post began to circulate on social media and various community sites.

[Unexpected vindication (aka Big Sejin was not involved in school bullying)]

[Big Sejin’s photo was photoshopped.]

[Someone found the original photo of Big Sejin.]

Just like on the first post, the comment section exploded. Because the post made it seem like the op had only stumbled across the truth, it made it seem more trustworthy. The public began to make fun of the original post accusing Big Sejin before long, and his fans, who hadn’t been able to sleep anyway, soon joined in and began uploading screenshots everywhere.

They started commenting on negative posts aggressively, beating down any claims that the photo might have been faked, but the original post’s claims could still be true. That the post had been fake soon became public knowledge on the internet, and all of this unfolded before nine in the morning the very next day.

***

“It’s been deleted,” Big Sejin muttered.

After it had come out that the photo was altered and the public had started bashing the op, they had vanished without a trace. Things might have gotten tricky if the person had tried to defend his claims, but apparently, the rapid change in public opinion had intimidated them enough that they’d given up.

“What a relief, seriously.” Big Sejin pressed his forehead against the table with a deep sigh. Fatigue seemed to be settling in now that he could afford to relax.

“Thanks. I... I really have no words.”

Of course, he was incredibly thankful. This outcome wouldn’t have been possible if his original draft had been uploaded as-is.

I guess that’s a win for this former paparazzo... I’d often lurked on various community sites to gauge the right price to sell my photos for. As was becoming common regarding my strange collection of life experiences—who knew it would come so in handy? As for all the hard work I’d done last night... I decided to write it off as charity work done as atonement for my previous career choices.

“This would never have happened if I hadn’t smoked...” Big Sejin muttered, sounding deeply ashamed of himself. He seemed to recognize that it had been pretty stupid of him.

“Why’d you do it?” I asked.

“Oh, well... I got pushed out of the group I was meant to debut in. We’d recorded a demo and everything... but they swapped me out for someone else, and the group performed just fine. Sold a lot of albums, too.”

“Did this happen at Happy Friends?”

That particular agency hadn’t debuted any successful male idol groups in the last five years.

“No, it was a different agency. They said they had no intention of forming another group for a while, so they sent me to Happy Friends.”

“I see.”

There were only a couple of male idol groups that had debuted three to four years ago that had been successful and both of them were from large agencies.

Shouldn’t he have waited it out a little longer? If he’d been seventeen at the time, he would still only have been twenty-two after five years of waiting. This was an acceptable age for the oldest member of a boy group. It would have been a much better idea to stay on at a large agency, instead of joining Happy Friends.

“They promised to debut a group within the year, so I signed on... but it’s already been four years, and no debut. Haha.”

So that’s what happened. Verbal agreements were never to be trusted, but he’d been a high school freshman and probably devastated he couldn’t debut with his group. It was natural that he failed to consider how foolish it was to just take them at their word.

“You probably know this, but none of the trainees from Happy Friends appearing on this show are ready to debut. That’s why I need to make it to the final team on this show no matter what it takes...” He said. “Speaking of which, thanks again for helping me stay, Moondae.”

He had never been so open with me, and now he was kind of talking shit about his fellow trainees. So he’s trying to show that he’s sincerely thankful, huh?

“Yeah. You should be.”

“What? Haha!” Big Sejin laughed, then returned his forehead to the table. It seemed like he wanted to laugh and joke with me, but was clearly too tired to do so.

I wondered wryly, Have I let this guy get too close? I’d been intending to keep my distance from him since he was potentially going to become involved with drugs, but at some point, we’d become kind of close.

I suppose it’s unlikely he’ll actually become a druggie, considering how he’s acted so far. Big Sejin would probably never have been able to debut after dropping out of the show. Even if he hadn’t left, he would not have been able to defend himself without help, which would also have prevented him from debuting.

Hmm. But Lee Sejin, the child actor, doesn’t seem likely to debut at this point, either. Still, there was every likelihood that Lee Sejin’s screen time and reputation had been affected by whatever changes I caused as Park Moondae, so it seemed more likely he was the offender.

In any case, that’s not what matters at the moment. I would put aside this particular problem for now. What mattered was the team battle taking place two days from now.

“Oh gosh!”

“Aaaaaugh...”

My teammates slowly rolled out of bed as morning alarms rang loudly throughout the room.

The start of another day with zero rest... I just stood for a moment, looking haggard, and Big Sejin addressed me. He continued our earlier conversation.

“I mean it... Let me treat you to a meal after we’re done filming. What do you want to eat?”

“Beef.”

“Uh... it can be imported beef, right?”

“Yes, if it tastes good.”

We had exactly fifty hours remaining until the team battle rehearsal.

***

The stage where the third team battle would take place was located on one of the sets for Music Bomb, Tnet’s main music show. We were told that they had chosen the set so we could perform on a stage that actual idols usually performed on, but I personally thought it was just because it was easier for them to get good reaction shots.

“On this very stage, only three days ago, VTIC recorded a performance!” the emcee shouted enthusiastically.

The contestants all cheered obediently in response. This was actually a completely different stage that just happened to be on the same set, so it actually had nothing in common with the stage VTIC performed on. They only shared the same space.

The contestants, however, seemed excited by the idea that they were on a set that usually hosted some of the best artists in the country. I didn’t hate the feeling myself.

VTIC... They aren’t half bad. Photos of them had fetched a nice price, so it had been worthwhile taking pictures of them.

“Please show us what you can do, just like all the idols who have performed here before you!”

With the last line from his script delivered, the emcee walked away, and preparations for the rehearsal began.

“Alright, everyone! We’re going to be going in the same order as the actual shooting!” someone shouted.

“Okay!”

The set became noisy with the sound of barked orders and music blaring from the speakers. The contestants had some time left before they had to perform, and so team Moon Rabbit had gathered in a corner.

“Why don’t we do a group huddle? We all worked so hard. Let’s show them what we’ve got!”

“Sounds great.”

“Y-yeah.”

A round of tense nods were exchanged, but I could tell that the tension was born from excitement rather than fear.

“Team Moon Rabbit!”

We piled our hands one on top of the other, crowded together in a tight circle.

“Let’s do this!”

There was a ferocity in the chant more appropriate for going into battle.

Good god. I suddenly realized I’d willingly taken part, even though there were no cameras nearby. It felt right though.

“Let’s go, guys!”

Our performance was just around the corner now.