Translator: Dreamscribe
"From here, please come out and enter in the order we call your names."
Once all 100 participants had finally gathered in the waiting area, a young woman who appeared to be part of the filming staff stepped forward and began explaining the procedure.
“Once you enter, you’ll see a stage. Please walk past that stage and take a seat in the chairs located at the back.”
“How should we choose our seats?”
When one of the participants raised their hand and asked, the staff member answered immediately, as if she had anticipated the question.
“You may sit freely in the order you enter.”
At the mention that you could choose your seat based on the order you went in, a subtle tension began to spread among the participants.
I was no exception.
‘I need to grab a corner seat that’s as inconspicuous as possible....’
It would be really troublesome if I ended up sitting somewhere like the front row center.
Back when I was in the military, I once sat in the front row during the Division Commander’s mental education session. I couldn’t endure the two-hour-long lecture attack and ended up falling asleep.
The result was a one-on-one meeting with the battalion commander, asking, “Are you dissatisfied with military life?”
When it comes to gatherings, it’s best to quietly sit in a corner, as if you’re not even there.
“Alright, then trainee Park Ji-yeon will enter first.”
Once the explanation seemed to be over, the staff called out the name of the first trainee to enter.
The named participant, visibly nervous, cautiously walked toward the exit of the waiting area.
“Hello....”
“Ah, hello.”
While everyone’s attention was focused on the first person entering, someone cautiously spoke to me.
I was momentarily startled without realizing it, thinking there couldn't be anyone who would greet me, but when I turned my head in the direction the voice came from, I saw a participant with a somewhat squirrel-like appearance standing there.
“I’m sorry... for speaking to you so suddenly....”
“No, uh... it’s okay.”
Honestly, it wasn’t okay.
But I couldn’t exactly respond with a blunt “Yeah, it is” to someone who had just approached me.
Besides, seeing her nervously fidgeting with her hands clasped over her stomach made me feel soft-hearted for some reason.
She was small and delicate, the kind of look that triggered a protective instinct.
“Actually, everyone else seems to have an entertainment agency... but yours said you were an individual trainee, so I approached you. I... don’t have an agency either.”
Now that she mentioned it, individual trainees were really rare among the participants I’d seen so far.
Whether they were famous or not, their number tags had agencies written on them.
‘Kim Soo-yeon, number 42... individual trainee.’
I checked the number tag of the participant who had spoken to me, and it indeed said “individual trainee”.
“Is it unusual to be a trainee without an agency?”
“Huh...? Well, probably, right?”
“Why?”
“There’s a limit to how much you can improve on your own... and most importantly, you can’t debut alone. That’s why everyone tries to get into an agency, no matter what.”
Now that I heard it, it made sense.
Even someone like me who didn’t know much about idols at least knew that you couldn’t make it on your own.
“Then why don’t you have an agency?”
“Huh?”
“No! I mean... in your case, Si-on-nim, you’re so pretty that... it wouldn’t be surprising if you were in a well-known agency, but you’re listed as an individual trainee, so I was just curious...”
Squirrel girl- no, participant number 42, Kim Soo-yeon, suddenly started complimenting me.
I wasn’t used to this kind of compliment, so I felt a bit awkward and hesitated about how to respond.
‘Honestly, I don’t care about idols! I’m only here because my aunt said she’d give me some pocket money!’
Not something I could actually say, so I was hesitating when.
“I’m sorry! I’m sure you have your reasons... I shouldn’t have asked such a thing....”
“That’s fine. But what about you? Why are you an individual trainee?”
“Me?”
I nodded at her question.
From what I could see, Kim Soo-yeon didn’t seem lacking compared to trainees from other agencies.
In fact, just judging by her looks, it felt strange that she didn’t have an agency.
“I... left the agency I was originally with.”
“Why?”
“Because I wasn’t selected for the debut team...”
At her previous agency, a debut team had finally been formed, and Kim Soo-yeon, who failed to make the cut, ended up leaving and wandering aimlessly until she happened to hear about Idol Ground 100 and decided to join.
“So I was kind of scared. Once you take away the title of being in an agency... it felt like there was nothing left of me....”
“Tsk, tsk. You’re still young.”
“Huh?”
“How old are you?”
“Me?”
"Who else is here?"
Kim Soo-yeon, looking flustered, fidgeted awkwardly at my sudden question and replied.
“...Seventeen.”
“What, you’re two years younger than me. Then I’ll speak casually.”
“Y-Yes!”
“Hey, you’re only seventeen, and you’re already saying stuff like ‘I have nothing left’?”
I couldn’t believe it.
Seventeen is still just a baby, barely out of the cradle, isn’t it?
Even when new recruits came into the military, they were at least twenty.
Hearing a seventeen-year-old talk like her life was over, my instincts from my days as company commander kicked in before I even realized it.
“It’s because... you’re pretty, unnie, so you wouldn’t understand. I’ve been a trainee since I was fourteen, and even though my parents don’t say it, I can tell they’re worried... and my school friends keep asking when I’m going to debut....”
“Your parents and friends aren’t the ones living your life.”
“...Still. How can I not care about what they think?”
It was true. At that age, you were extremely sensitive to how others, especially your parents and those around you, saw you.
"Someone I know failed the college entrance exam."
“The college entrance exam?”
“Yeah. Did way worse than usual.”
“So? What happened?”
“His parents scolded him, saying it was because he didn’t study enough, and his teachers blamed his poor classroom attitude.”
I remembered the lectures and nagging I got from my parents and teachers after I took the college entrance exam in my previous life.
It’s all nostalgic now, but back then, it was absolutely miserable.
“At first, he planned to take a gap year. But his parents and teachers wouldn’t stop nagging him.”
“Of course they would...”
Soo-yeon nodded as if she’d seen the same kind of situation herself.
But the next part was something she wouldn’t have expected.
“So he got pissed and said this.”
-I’m not taking another year off, so stop raising your voice.
Soo-yeon’s eyes widened at my words.
It must’ve been a shocking story.
“Of course, his parents and teachers got mad and told him to do whatever he wanted. But they also said, since he was making the decisions, he should expect zero support.”
“Then... what did he do...?”
“He got into the Korea Military Academy.”
“The military academy?”
“Yeah. The Korea Military Academy. Tuition’s free, dorm’s free, and once you graduate, you get a guaranteed job in the military.”
When my parents and teachers eventually found out I had really applied to the academy, they tried to stop me, saying it wasn’t too late to cancel, but I brushed them off and enrolled.
‘Looking back, if I had listened to my parents back then... maybe I wouldn’t have gotten shot and died.’
Still, I don’t regret the choice.
“Anyway, the point of the story is simple. Even if you ignore what everyone else thinks and just live how you want, life somehow works itself out better than you’d expect.”
“Do you really... think so?”
“Of course.”
I wasn’t sure how convincing I’d been, but Soo-yeon’s expression seemed a little more at ease.
'It feels like I'm conducting a new recruit interview.'
Maybe I hadn’t completely shaken off the habits from my time as company commander.
Still, watching such a young kid dragging herself down and constantly worrying about what others thought... I figured it was better for me to be a little inconvenienced.
“Next, participant number 42, Kim Soo-yeon, please enter.”
“Yes!”
While we’d been talking, it seemed it was already Soo-yeon’s turn to enter.
As soon as her name was called, she raised her hand and walked toward the entrance.
“Si-on unnie! I’ll save a seat for you! Let’s sit together when you come in!”
“Sure!”
Just before stepping out through the entrance, Soo-yeon turned back and called out to me with a big, bright voice.
What a commendable little squirrel she was.
Saying she'd go first and save me a seat, clearly, the beautiful spirit of Korean Confucianism was still alive and well.
Even though we'd be seeing each other again soon, Soo-yeon waved her hand as if we were parting forever, so I waved back to match her energy.
‘But why haven’t they called me yet?’
After Soo-yeon left, only about half the participants remained in the waiting room.
If I enter too late, I will draw more attention, which is awkward, but the staff member managing the participants still showed no signs of calling my number.
***
“PD-nim, then we’re saving the last entrance for Ryu A-yeon, right?”
“Of course. Who else would we have open Episode 1?”
Idol Ground 100’s main PD, Kim Mi-young.
In response to her words, assistant director Park Hyeung-soo nodded in agreement.
“Ryu A-yeon definitely has overwhelming buzz.”
In fact, the fact that someone like Ryu A-yeon was participating in Idol Ground 100 was practically a miracle.
Even TSP, the top entertainment agency in the country, treated her like a precious ‘treasure’.
“Buzz? That girl’s skills are already professional-level.”
“She’ll probably win first place without much trouble, right?”
At Hyeung-soo’s comment, Mi-young tilted her head slightly.
“That’s not a sure thing.”
“Huh? But she’s top in looks, recognition, and skill.”
“That’s how idols are. Looks and skills, they’re all important elements. But... that’s not enough.”
“Then... what more do they need?”
“If I knew that, would I still be a PD? I’d have started my own agency and raised my own idols.”
“Ha, seriously... what kind of answer is that.”
While Hyeung-soo let out an exasperated laugh, Mi-young silently chewed over the question.
In her experience, the people who succeeded as idols had something that drew others in, not just looks or talent, but a certain indescribable charm.
And at that moment, one person suddenly popped into her head.
‘...Si-on?’
But.
‘That’s not charm!’
It was true that Si-on came to mind, but that kid didn’t have a magnetic charm, she had something that made you want to smack her upside the head.
There was something Mi-young once heard from her older sister, Sukja, who was also Si-on’s mom.
“If you try living with Si-on, you’ll kick her out within a week.”
At the time, Mi-young had scoffed.
She thought, “Come on, it’s just one niece. How hard can it be?”
But recently, after housing the kicked-out Si-on for about a week, she fully understood those words.
‘That kid seriously feels like she’s studying how to piss people off...’
When she left for work, her niece was lying asleep on the couch. And when she came back from work, she was still lying there.
The only thing that had changed was that the table was now covered in leftover chicken bones from a lunch she'd ordered with the allowance money she gave her.
Sure, even that might’ve been dismissed with a “she’s just a slightly lazy, cute niece”.
But then.
“Under the peach tree, they swore brotherhood~♬”
Just as she lay down to sleep, the living room would erupt with loud Chinese.
Wondering what the hell it was, she'd go out and find her niece Si-on watching a Chinese historical drama, tears streaming down her face.
Was that all?
When she wasn’t in the living room, she'd check the bedroom, only to find her playing some kind of game on her laptop, muttering to herself,
"That! That!! Kill it!!!"
While slamming on the mouse and keyboard.
After that, Mi-young quietly decided she would never get married.
In the past, when Si-on was younger, she thought her niece was so cute and lovable that she wanted to get married and have a child like her older sister.
But the grown-up Si-on had turned her into a firm believer in staying single.
Mi-young shook her head, trying to get rid of the thoughts of her niece.
It was time to focus again, to check the monitor and watch the participants currently entering.
‘Hopefully someone gives us a usable moment here....’
These were scenes meant for the first broadcast episode, so she could only hope that one of the participants would make an impact.
Right now, at this very moment, all a PD could do was pray.