Damn Idol—Episode 65
If Onsaemiro and Fade were merely having a simple quarrel, I was prepared to pretend I hadn’t seen anything and let it slide.
I had fought with Fade not long ago myself, so there was no reason Onsaemiro couldn’t do the same.
But no matter how I looked at it, this didn’t seem like a fight.
Fade was hurling one-sided abuse at him.
What was worse, I found the contents of that abuse rather distasteful.
When I quietly opened the door and entered, Onsaemiro, who had been standing facing the door, widened his eyes.
But Fade had his back to the door, so he didn’t notice my arrival and continued spewing curses.
“You’re a fucking beggar, so you don’t even have any pride? You’re still going to keep playing lackey?”
Honestly, it was a little perplexing.
Fade was a cowardly, lowlife bastard, but he wasn’t stupid.
He wasn’t thoughtless enough to say something like that in a photo studio operated by outsiders.
Of course, there were no mounted cameras in the dressing room, and neither of them was wearing a microphone because they were shooting a pictorial.
But could he be certain there wasn’t a boom mic pointed toward the dressing room?
If there was even one, it would pick up the sound.
What the hell was he thinking?
That was when I noticed Fade’s neck, bright red enough to be seen from behind.
At that moment, I realized.
Fade wasn’t acting with any particular intention.
He had simply lost it.
He’d lost his mind and was acting recklessly, venting his rage.
Could it be because of the pressure he had received on the bus? It might have been appropriate pressure for Fade three years in the future, but perhaps not for him at this point in time.
As I was thinking that, I felt my emotions beginning to churn.
I wasn’t talking about Fade or Onsaemiro’s emotions.
I was talking about mine.
Yes. Let’s be a little more honest.
When I decided to challenge this damn idol competition again, I pretended I didn’t remember anything.
I did think I had forgotten a great deal.
But now I knew.
I hadn’t forgotten.
I had merely buried it.
And whenever the right trigger appeared, those memories would suddenly rise to the surface.
“Do you think people will believe the words of all four of us? Or will they believe the word of just you?”
“I heard people feel sorry for us. Han Sion and his lackeys.”
“Was it really so irritating to pick scraps of rice off the genius spatula?”
That was why my figure overlapped with Onsaemiro, who stood there motionless.
I remembered myself, wounded by the accusations hurled by the members of For the Youth.
The me from that time, who had withered away without receiving comfort from anyone, flashed before my eyes.
But I was no longer Han Sion from my seventh regression. I was a regressor who had become far more levelheaded after dozens of cycles.
Even if my emotions were in turmoil, I could still make a rational judgment.
So I wondered.
How far could I go here?
What would be the limit—the furthest I could act while still being able to smooth things over?
Probably…
This far.
I kicked Fade behind the knee.
Thud!
Fade crumpled from the unexpected violence.
When he tried to scream, I pressed my foot down on his neck.
The choked sound of his breathing wasn’t unpleasant.
“Think carefully. If you scream, we’re going all the way. What you did, and what I did.”
I quietly stared into Fade’s eyes before slowly stepping back.
Fade clutched his neck and didn’t scream.
Instead, he glared at me with eyes filled with confusion, rage, and fear.
I hadn’t done it specifically to save Onsaemiro.
Rather, I had done it for the me from the past, whose image had overlapped with Onsaemiro’s.
But looking back, I think the me from that time had wanted at least one person to say something like this.
“Don’t touch our member.”
* * *
When the photo shoot for the magazine spread ended, the self-styled outfits for Sedalbaegil arrived at the studio at just the right time.
Take Scene, whose coordinated outfits were easy to procure, had already begun shooting, so there wasn’t much time.
“Let’s put Sion in these jeans and this T-shirt. And the belt… this one. What do you think?”
“If it’s 1980s America, shouldn’t he be wearing something one size smaller?”
“That would be right if we were only concerned with realism. But this looks prettier, doesn’t it?”
“If that is the reason, I shall follow your order.”
“But do you know much about American fashion? The brands you wrote down in the proposal were pretty on point.”
“I’ve seen them in movies.”
They hadn’t brought back just one outfit. They had procured several sets with designs that gave off a similar feeling.
As a result, they needed time to decide which outfits to wear on-site.
During that process, Gu Taehwan came up with a fairly decent idea.
“Designer, can’t I just go with these shoes?”
“You’re saying you want to wear Nike with a hanbok?”
“It just occurred to me, but does a time traveler necessarily have to prepare everything? Maybe they prepared the clothes but forgot their rubber shoes.”
“I don’t know about that. We need to see whether the item combination looks good. Go change into that hanbok and come back out.”
The designer said this with his arms folded, but when Gu Taehwan actually appeared, he slowly unfolded them.
The sneakers and hanbok created an unbalanced yet strangely sophisticated look.
Once the outfit selections for all the members were complete, Sedalbaegil’s shoot began.
To be honest, it didn’t feel like a group pictorial at all.
I didn’t know what it would look like after the shoot was finished and the colors were corrected, but for now, it was a garbage combination that hadn’t even matched the basic complementary colors.
There was even a member whose top and bottom colors didn’t match at all.
They had chosen the outfits based solely on design, assuming the colors would be corrected later.
“Ugh, shit.”
To professional photographers, it was no different from an exhibition of the uncanny valley.
But once they moved on to individual shots, the feeling was entirely different.
“Wow, he’s handsome!”
The energy had been deliberately raised because he was in front of the camera, but Iiyon was actually handsome.
He was holding an English-language newspaper while wearing the sort of suit an English gentleman might have worn during the Industrial Revolution, and he looked quite impressive.
That was despite the suit and shoe colors forming a terrible clash.
Gu Taehwan, who went in for his shoot after Iiyon, had a rather appealing aura thanks to the mask he wore.
He wasn’t as handsome as Iiyon, but the combination of his delinquent-like impression and hanbok created a curious charm.
The sneakers poking out beneath the hanbok seemed to emphasize that charm.
Choi Jaeseong, wearing a school uniform and backpack, was refreshing, while Han Sion, dressed in retro fashion, was hip.
I asked Han Sion to create a gloomy atmosphere, but I was startled when it turned out to be overwhelmingly intense.
With that atmosphere set against his snow-white face, he perfectly evoked the feeling of a stranger who had fallen into an unfamiliar time.
Finally, Onsaemiro, who seemed as though he would be the greatest challenge, was…
‘He’s good?’
He was suddenly quite decent.
He wasn’t as skilled as Han Sion or Choi Jaeseong, nor did his visuals make as strong an impact as Iiyon or Gu Taehwan’s.
But compared to the earlier shots, he had improved so dramatically that it was like heaven and earth had been overturned.
“Wow, that’s good! You’re doing great!”
Besides, the outfit had a distinctive feel.
They had cut up a racing suit that gave off the impression of the near future to create a worn-out look, then singed the badges and accessories attached to the suit with fire.
The only thing that shone as if brand-new was the silver pocket watch at his waist.
“Okay! Cut!”
And so, all the shooting was complete.
Now it was time for the studio’s internal evaluation to determine the rankings for today’s pictorial shoot.
“This is obviously how it should be, right?”
“Exactly.”
“I agree.”
Han Sion
- Eye Level
- Choi Jaeseong
- Ready
- Iiyon
No one disagreed with the rankings from first to fifth.
It took quite a while to decide the rankings from sixth to tenth, but the final results were:
6th: See You
7th: Gu Taehwan
8th: Onsaemiro
9th: Juyeon
10th: Fade
After that, the two teams were given time to select stage equipment according to their rankings, bringing the pictorial-shooting mission to an end.
But this wasn’t the end of today’s shoot.
* * *
After the pictorial shoot, we were scheduled to film the arrangement process at LB Studio.
However, when we arrived at the studio…
“You’re here?”
“……”
Lee Hyeonseok approached me shyly, holding a stand with a smartphone mounted on it.
“Sion, if you don’t mind, could you give the viewers a very brief greeting? It can be really short.”
“……”
“You’re not live right now, are you?”
“No. I’m recording a video. If you’re tired right now, we can record it during your break.”
“I’ll just do it now.”
“Oh, thank you for the video donation!”
What was going on?
How had he ended up like that?
I’d heard that he worked hard on his personal broadcast, but I hadn’t realized he was this passionate.
Still, I willingly took part in the video recording.
There were quite a few things I was grateful to Representative Lee Hyeonseok for.
I was more grateful that he had secured us a dedicated studio than that he had recommended me for Coming Up Next.
Thanks to him, I could fill the stage with the music I wanted without having to engage in any power struggles.
If the dedicated studio had been a label under M Show, there was a high chance they would have interfered with my music in one way or another.
Not only that, he had personally recruited Jo Gijeong to obtain a remix of Under the Streetlight, and had even helped with an improvised performance while playing the drums.
He had even registered my fingerprint for entry, allowing me to use the studio whenever I wanted.
No matter how much he liked the music, few people would go that far.
That was why I willingly agreed to film the video.
“Thank you for all the support you’ve shown us so far. We’ll repay you with even better performances in the future. Thank you.”
“Sion, cheek poke! Cheek poke!”
“Cheek poke?”
“It was a viewer mission! Just once!”
No, but what the hell was a cheek poke?
I knew what a Jack Coke was.
Ah, did he mean the cute gesture of poking one’s cheek?
Sorry, but I couldn’t do that.
I was, after all, a venerable American who had crossed over from the land of machismo, the United States.
Instead, I made a heart with my hands.
I’d done that plenty of times in my previous life.
Unfortunately, however, the video was never broadcast on Lee Hyeonseok’s stream.
After pouring all his strength into filming the video, Lee Hyeonseok suffered a crushing defeat at the hands of Producer Kang Seokwoo, who approached him as if by some cruel twist of fate.
“No, Representative!”
In other words, his video had been confiscated along with a scolding.
Gu Taehwan, who had been watching the scene, came over and whispered.
“He’s an interesting person.”
“I don’t really know either. What kind of person is he?”
“So this is LB Studio? Sion said he came here to work sometimes, right?”
“I came by fairly often before we moved into the dorms.”
I hadn’t come to the studio alone today. The members had come with me as well.
They said they would also film the team’s reactions to the arrangement process.
Choi Jaeseong, however, was a minor and couldn’t film at night, so he was sent home.
It was a little funny. During the 1 Night 3 Days B-Team selection round, they had more or less let it slide with a single parental consent form. Why were they being so strict now?
Were they being more cautious because the program had become famous?
“……”
As I was thinking that, I met Onsaemiro’s eyes and hurriedly looked away.
What was he, a ghost from the recording studio?
“The camera setup is complete, so you can go inside and work. There are a lot of mounted cameras, but since they’re the only kind of cameras there are, just act naturally.”
“Yes. Is there anything else we should keep in mind?”
“No. Just go in and actually work on the arrangement.”
“Understood.”
The four of us then entered the best room in LB Studio.
I sat in the producer’s seat, while the other three sat on the sofa.
“Wow, this place is nice.”
“Right? I think I’ve seen it in some music video.”
“With a studio this good, I bet they’re constantly getting requests for location sponsorships.”
After a brief chat, Iiyon asked a question.
“Sion. You said that during the pictorial shoot earlier, right? That you’d already finished the arrangement in your head.”
“Yes.”
“Then can we hear it now? Why did only my pocket watch have to be a different color?”
“Hmm… I gave it some thought. About how I could best use your vocal tone, I mean. Then I started thinking about the concept.”
“Time travel?”
“Yes. I originally thought the concept didn’t hold much meaning, but that wasn’t true for Seoul Town Punk.”
If the concept had been time travel, I wouldn’t have thought of using traditional instruments.
Moreover, thanks to the concept, the sounds of those traditional instruments gained even greater vitality.
In other words, if the direction was set properly, a concept could help people enjoy a song.
“Your vocal tone doesn’t really go with anyone, you know? So I thought, what if your role was one that wasn’t supposed to fit in the first place?”
“What does that mean?”
The solution I had come up with was simple.
“You’re the villain. The one who wants to stop Sedalbaegil’s time travel.”