The Villainous Member Returns! Episode 11
* * *
"We’ll continue filming after the trainees move to the dormitory! Please board the bus!"
I naturally tried to sit alone, but I grabbed Yuchan hyung by the shoulder and pulled him into the seat next to me.
"Hyung, sit with me."
"Oh? Yeah, let's do that!"
Before I came back, Yuchan hyung often showed himself playing alone, clearly unfamiliar with the cameras early on in *Targeting Star*, which drew negative reactions like [Moo-chan saeki, so fcking obvious he has no social skills lol*].
In reality, Yuchan hyung had better social skills than anyone here, so there was no need for him to hear that kind of talk again this time.
"Hyung, V-sign. V-sign."
"Oh, Chunyong. You're really proactive today? Alright. V-sign—"
The large tour bus headed toward the dormitory located on the outskirts of Seoul, and just as Yuchan hyung and I were busy showing off various things about ourselves to the camera—
the big TV mounted at the front of the bus flicked on with a soft *pat*.
- "Dear trainees, are you enjoying the ride to the dorm?"
On the screen appeared the host, Choi Gaon sunbae-nim.
Judging by the different outfit from today, it seemed like a pre-recorded video. Choi Gaon sunbae-nim clapped his hands and beamed brightly.
- "The reason I've shown up like this… some of you might know, and some might not, right? Why do you think I’m here?"
"…Is there anyone who doesn't know this is about assigning dorm rooms?"
Hearing Yuchan hyung mutter beside me, I hurriedly leaned toward him and whispered.
"Yuchan hyung, the camera catches all of that too."
"Hup."
As a flustered Yuchan hyung shoved his fist into his own mouth, Choi Gaon on the screen started talking again, as if he'd been waiting for exactly that.
- "Yes, I'm here because of your dorm room assignments! Wheew, applause!"
Half-hearted claps from the trainees, purely for the broadcast, echoed through the bus.
Yeah. Filming a show was ridiculously tedious and exhausting.
Wanting to debut isn't the same thing as wanting to be filmed 24 hours a day.
- "Everyone wants to get a good room, right? But from the moment your grades were divided, even which dorm room you get is influenced by your ranking!"
"…I don't understand. Speak like a human."
An aggressive comment burst out from someone who wasn't Korean. But Choi Gaon on the screen paid no mind.
- "There are five rooms in total. You'll be assigned rooms randomly, in the order of the numbers you draw when you get off the bus. However, if a room reaches full capacity, the trainee with the lower rank will have to leave!"
It was merciless.
It's already sad enough to have a low grade, and now you can't even pick your room freely. Even though I've been through it twice, I still couldn't easily adapt to the survival ecosystem of ranking supremacy.
Of course, I'm the one who threw myself back into that miserable ecosystem thinking it's fine, so I've got nothing to say about it.
But even if it's not fine, I've just got to do it, right?
"Alright everyone, we'll now film the scene where you get off and draw numbers. Please check your own makeup."
After about 20 minutes of driving, the bus came to a stop, and the youngest writer, still wearing a gloomy face, held out a draw box to each of us.
"Trainee Kim Chunyong, you drew number 4."
Leaving the youngest writer's listless reply behind me, I lifted my head and took in the dormitory once again—the second time I was seeing it.
*Targeting Star*'s dorm was a remodeled youth training center on the outskirts of Seoul.
It was practically a full-scale idol training facility, with rooms along the corridor on the second floor, and a vocal room, dance practice room, and private interview rooms on the floor below.
Viewers called it the Idol Canning Factory, but rumor had it the production team wasn't discouraged.
Well, a canning factory or an idol training center… in the end, aren't they the same?
"Trainee Kim Chunyong, you may enter now."
A moment later, I wheeled my small suitcase along, scanning the rooms on the second floor one by one.
Some of these rooms would already have people in them, and some would be empty.
The trainees who had gone in before me were 2nd-place Liu Wei, 13th-place Seo Bin, and 7th-place Lee Rogeon.
Honestly, except for one person, I didn't care who I ended up in the same room with.
"Liu Wei. Don't you have anything to say to Chunyong?"
"…I don't know what you want me to say."
"Something bad happened to Chunyong. So maybe something to cheer him up…."
"Don't touch me."
A coldly hardened face, an expression of contempt.
"I have nothing to say to a guy who gets stressed over such a small thing."
…
Even though we'd promoted together for a long time, he was the former member of *Arrows* who openly disliked me. Liu Wei—the only Chinese among the top three in *Targeting Star*'s first competition. A successful candidate from a private AG Global audition. He had about two years as a trainee.
Liu Wei, who had been the main dancer of *Arrows*, debuted with me, and two years later quickly left after transferring to a Chinese agency.
I'm the overwhelmingly villainous member who overshadowed him, but if you look at the facts, Liu Wei was no pushover either.
Because, after all, it was no different from him providing the trigger for our group to collapse.
And Liu Wei's escape to China had absolutely nothing to do with my villainous acts, so that made me even more uncomfortable.
…
There's no guarantee it won't happen again this time.
Well, it's a bit rich coming from me, the other villainous member who used to rival him back then, but still.
"*Hoo*."
I stood in front of the door to Room 203 and let out a deep sigh mixed with a twinge of tension.
*'Seeing Liu Wei's face still feels a bit much, so if it's anyone else… no, if possible, let's rule out all of our members first….'*
Just as I was repeating that to myself and slowly reaching for the door handle—
"…Huh?"
The handle, which I hadn't even turned yet, rotated on its own.
"Wow, welcome, mate!"
And then, an utterly unexpected face I hadn't considered at all had already thrown his arms open wide to welcome me.
* * *
So, seriously.
What exactly is this situation?
I let out a small, hidden sigh, careful not to let the roommates sitting there blankly notice while the cameras were rolling, and tried hard to steer things along naturally.
"Uh, so, shall we all introduce ourselves? I'm Kim Chunyong, 20 years old…."
"Next, I shall go."
The guy who cut me off shot up from the top bunk and shouted.
*Bang!*
"*Cough*."
Of course, having gotten up on the top bunk, he spectacularly slammed his head into the ceiling, but paying no mind, he immediately sprang up again and proclaimed in a majestic tone.
"My name is Gao Yan. A Hong Kong man, 19 years old in Korean age. The person I respect is Gao Yan."
"Ah…."
Slightly flustered by that boisterous self-introduction, I let my mouth hang open before carefully asking again.
"…Didn't you just say your name was Gao Yan?"
"Correct. I respect only myself. Because there is no man cooler than me."
Gao Yan, an individual trainee from Hong Kong.
Thick eyebrows, sharp, defined features. A peculiar way of speaking, an overflowing confidence from who-knows-where.
"As I expected, the people who will debut together with me have all gathered in this room."
I'd never shared a stage with him, so I didn't know him well, but as far as I know, he gets eliminated from *Targeting Star* and later becomes a famous influencer with 15 million followers.
"I intend to win first place on *Targeting Star* and show the world my coolness. Rank 18 will be nothing but a stepping stone."
Back then, I was too busy taking care of myself to pay attention, but so that's what his personality was like.
That's how he'd end up with 15 million followers.
Just so you know, I had 300,000 followers, and 90% of them were antis who followed just to curse at me.
"I'm next!"
Maybe inspired by Gao Yan's fantastical introduction, the kid sitting across from me shot up from his seat, too.
They could do this sitting down, so why do they keep standing up all dramatically?
The scrawny guy with band-aids stuck on his joints here and there spoke softly and politely, with a gentle translated cadence.
"I'm Ishikawa Ryota. I came here because I admire Korean idols. I really want to debut."
Ishikawa Ryota, who got seriously into dreaming of becoming an idol after reading a manga related to K-pop.
I'd been on a team with him once. His dance fundamentals were quite lacking, but I remembered he sang pretty well.
As for Ryota… I think he went back to Japan after getting eliminated from *Targeting Star*. He probably joined a project group there or something.
"Hmm, Ryota. What's your rank?"
Gao Yan asked Ryota with a supercilious face.
"15th. I was so nervous I couldn't dance properly."
At Ryota's answer, Gao Yan thrust out his left hand and proclaimed with the gravity of a general.
"Better than me. As expected, I feel Ryota will debut with me."
"Thank you, Gao Yan. Let's make a good group together. I dream of our group's tomorrow every day."
Neither of you debuts, though.
Perhaps thrown off by the duo's conversation, which had transcended common sense, the remaining guy rolled his eyes around before finally opening his mouth late.
The very person who had opened the door for me while I was hesitating in front of it.
A tall Korean-Briton, who looked like he had puppy ears flapping beneath his hair.
"Oh, Holy. Um, I'm Logan. Logan Lee. I'm from Liverpool, England, and uh. In Korean age, I'm 19, same as Gao Yan."
Logan Lee.
Already possessing top-level producing skills, a talent-laden trainee who, after *Targeting Star*, would go on an audition program in England and proudly take first place.
The reason that Logan couldn't debut through *Targeting Star* wasn't because he got eliminated.
*'…It turned out I had to go back to England like this, but… it was a really great experience. To all the fans who cheered for me, thank you so much.'*
It was because he dropped out in the middle of filming.
"I'm, uh, an only child—ah, what's the word in Korean? Anyway, that's what I am, so I'm really happy to meet new flatmates. Let's have fun together!"
Why would a kid who loves it so much drop out with such a sad face back then?
"Anyway…."
I let out a hollow laugh, '*hehe*', and casually slipped in a pointed remark.
"So right now, there are four people in this room, and all four have different nationalities. Right?"
"Wow. Exactly. Korean, Hong Kong person, Japanese, and British!"
"It would've been better if all four were from Hong Kong. But there was no choice, as I'm the only Hong Kong person who came on the show to begin with."
"Nobody comes to visit our room. We must be a complete set on our own."
That's what I'm saying.
Why doesn't anyone with a higher rank come and push us out of our room?
- "Rock, paper, scissors!"
- "*Aaack!*"
- "Since I'm 3rd place, it's only right… yes. I'm sorry. I'll be using this room!"
In the other rooms, people were bursting through doors, whining at the camera, playing rock-paper-scissors, making a whole ruckus.
No, you never know. Maybe the lineup will change if we wait a bit. Maybe Yuchan hyung will suddenly open the door and walk in.
There's no way I'm the only Korean in a room of such chaos and disorder, right?
…Right?
- "All trainees' dormitory assignments have been completed. Trainees, please organize your luggage and rest, then gather at the cafeteria on the first floor tomorrow morning by 7 a.m."
But the small speaker attached to the corner of the room cruelly shattered even that tiny hope of mine.
"Wow! Now we're real flatmates! Let's take care of each other, mates!"
"Right…."
Instead of despairing at Logan's excited voice, I quickly steeled my resolve.
Since things had come to this, I was determined to make the most of this and create the best possible screen time with these multinational friends, no matter what.
In a survival show to debut, camera exposure was your lifeline. I couldn't just give that up meekly.
And so, having made up my mind, the very first thing I did, without even sleeping—
"Gao Yan, Ryota. Logan, listen up for a second."
"Huh? What's up?"
"In the Republic of Korea, when someone is older than you, you call them '*hyung*'."
It was a simple lesson in forms of address.
"Hyun… Oh, Sorry. What?"
"No, forget it. Just repeat after me. When you call me, it's '*hyung*'. Chunyong-ie hyung."
"Chunyong… aniki."
"No, I said '*hyung*'."
This is the land of Confucianism, you brats.