CH22

When it comes to discussing musical talent alone, Kang Seok-Woo's just an average Joe.

He had never worked on music-related programs before, and he was not particularly passionate about listening to music in his daily life either.

He was like an only-listening-to-the-songs in the Top100 kind of guy.

There were only two reasons why Kang Seok-Woo would be surprised to hear the name of a foreign composer.

Either the person was incredibly famous, or they had been involved in some kind of issue in Korea.

Right now, it was both!

"Chris Edward? Are you sure? I don't think the composer name for <Flowers Bloom> was that name?"

"Chris Edward is a stage name. His real name is a Danish name. Anyway, it's him. I checked it from various sources since I was so surprised."

"Hmm…"

"Oh..."

Chris Edward was a composer who became extremely popular within the last two years.

He has 3 songs that reached No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100, and over 20 songs that have charted on the Hot 100.

Plus, he is handsome and smooth with words, so he made quite a few appearances on American talk shows.

He could not become a top star due to his lack of vocal ability. He would have become a world star if he had pursued a career as a singer-songwriter.

However, what put Chris Edward on the Korean map was because of a movie soundtrack.

He had been allowed to compose music for a Korean movie, and that movie sold over 10 million tickets in Korea.

Not only that, but the movie was invited to prestigious film festivals such as the Cannes Film Festival, and it won an award for its musical score at an awards ceremony.

Thanks to this, the Korean movie music composed by a foreign composer made it onto the Billboard charts.

As a foreign artist, he had even achieved the rare feat of reaching No. 1 on the domestic digital music charts.

"Hey, hasn't Chris Edward appeared on Korean variety shows a few times?"

"Aside from interviews related to films, he only showed up on one variety show."

"Hmm. Wasn't that the one where he mentioned about making a K-Pop idol's song?"

"I don't know about that... I doubt it, though. If he did, NT would've made a fuss."

NT is the entertainment company to which Way From Flower belongs.

"True, true. NT stayed mum about it."

"Since there was no promotional activity at all, maybe the composer and NT had a falling out during the work process?"

"Could be… Or maybe we're just clueless."

"Huh?"

"Think about it. <Flowers Bloom> was released four years back. Chris Edward wasn't big in Korea then, right?"

"That's true."

Kang Seok-Woo pondered, stroking his chin.

Truth be told, it was unrealistic to cast Chris Edward with the budget allocated to <Coming Up Next>.

No, it was not just unrealistic. It was impossible.

Even if they just wanted to get a video interview, It is common in the industry for Chris Edward to demand an exorbitant amount of money just for a video interview.

In order to cast a composer who had had several No.1 hits on the Billboard charts, the show would need to get at least 10% in viewership ratings.

In other words, whether Han Si-On's claim is true or not might remain an eternal mystery.

'But is that necessarily a bad thing?'

Kang Seok-Woo, after pondering for a bit, spoke up.

"Hey, PD Go."

"For the umpteenth time, I am not from the Go family."

"I called you PD Go because you're a consulting PD, didn't I? Anyway, find a way to send a video to the composer."

"One-sided?"

"Yeah. Just make sure he looks at it somehow. Send him the video of Han Si-On's gig and the interview after, with subtitles."

"In Danish or English?"

"Ah, goddamn it! Just do both!"

"Why are you getting angry all of a sudden?"

"I'm just saying."

If Han Si-On's words were true, Chris Edward would react.

Because musicians are like that.

What if he wouldn't react?

They would just promote <Under the Streetlight> as the main song for the first episode of <Coming Up Next>.

<Flowers Bloom> would still be a hot topic, even if the truth stayed fuzzy.

"Oh, and find someone who bailed on NT and loves to gossip. We could get some details from them."

"Understood."

Now that I think about it, broadcasting companies are quite something.

How'd they even dream up a dance studio in a convention center?

It's not like the space was lying around before. They probably bought mirrors and built it…

Wouldn't it have been cheaper to rent a massive dance studio instead? Compared to the money they spent on this?

Of course, there are often much more complex interests intertwined in broadcasting than what appears on the surface.

Maybe the convention center threw some sponsorship their way for some reason, and they took the deal in return…

***

"Bro! Si-On!"

"Huh? Yeah."

"You tuned in?"

"Oh, my bad. I was just thinking about something else."

The members of the <Winning Team> made bewildered expressions at my answer and then spoke.

"We're curious about your thoughts, bro. From our perspective, the group choreography doesn't seem to be quite syncing up."

"Well, it seems alright to me."

"You think it's fine?"

"Uh. Isn't it good enough?"

We are currently watching the performance.

After a grueling four-hour rehearsal from 5 A.M., we were watching the video of us performing the stage as if it were the real thing.

But…it's kinda meh.

Not the act of monitoring itself, but with the current moment I find myself in.

If I say this, it might seem like I'm not into prepping for the stage, but that's BS.

I still love performing.

And I love prepping for it. It brings me joy and fulfillment.

Otherwise, If I didn't have those feelings, I wouldn't have survived the endless repetition of the Truman Show.

But why am I feeling bored? The reason is…

"Don't you feel something's off?"

"Yeah, I'm with you. The angles of the arms and legs are fine, but..."

"How about shuffling the lineup a bit? Maybe have the taller members move to the sides."

The reason is that my squad's stuck talking about nonsense.

I don't know if it's my OG vibe or if it's changed because of the regression, but I hate wasting effort on the wrong stuff.

It's too boring and mind-numbing to waste my passion and effort on that crap.

And it's scary.

What if there's a cap on how much passion and effort a person can drop?

When my chance finally rolls in after all this waiting, what if I'm tapped out on passion? What am I supposed to do?

It's scary because this fear has taken root deep within my heart.

Soon, it morphs into a sense of inferiority.

Like, exaggeratingly speaking, I'm pissed off about the fact that I have to team up with folks sweating about the small stuff.

I used to be a Grammy winner, but now I'm just a contestant on an idol survival program.

I know it's a wrong and selfish way of thinking.

This might just be a phase for me, but for others, it's their only, whole damn, precious life.

Sometimes, even failure's got a sweet taste, and when you overcome it, it's like a rollercoaster ride of thrills.

But that kind of joy? It seems like I'm not on the guest list.

"Bro, Si-On. You good?"

I pause for a second at Choi Jae-Seong's question. This dude who is calling me "bro" is two years younger than me now.

At first, I wasn't down to step up.

I thought I could steer things my way by dabbling in the song choice.

But with the crew drifting like this, it's a tough cookie to crack.

For the second mission, what I want isn't me stepping up, but the stage itself not being ruined.

I psyched myself up and spilled it.

"I have a question. How crucial is choreography, really?"

"Yes? Of course, it's important. Half of an idol's job is on stage."

"Sorry, not choreography. I mean, is perfectly synced dancing that important?"

I don't think nailing the perfectly synchronized dance is the key to our next stage.

Sure, I know it gives visual pleasure.

In the first place, synchrony is the name of the game in dancing.

Even when you dance solo, it's important to have a sense of unity that allows you to maintain the same angle for the same movement.

But not right now.

"Our <Winning Team> met for the first time yesterday and started practicing today, right?"

"That's right."

"We can't master the choreography. It's not just difficult. It's straight-up impossible."

If that could be done in one day, what would dancers have to go through to grind their joints and cartilage?

They'd just need to look at the dance, and they would be the best dancers of all.

"But if we hustle…"

"The possibility of success is not zero. But the result will be nothing compared to the grind we put in."

"...And the result?"

"Just because we put on a great show doesn't mean all five of us are going to move forward."

On Sae-Miro, who had been listening quietly, asked in a low voice.

"What's your point exactly?"

"Stage direction."

Sometimes, folks play blind to the obvious facts to feel comfortable.

That's the case right now.

Working hard to sync up dances might seem comfortable.

Of course, it's not physically, but mentally.

But what if you bust your chops to match moves and still get cut out from the show…?

"Even then, I'd feel a bit good 'cause I gave it my all."

"..."

On the other hand, facing the real situation they need to confront is not comfortable.

I'm personally not stoked to be on the same team as Lee Yi-On because of his voice, but he'll pass regardless.

Even if I were a judge, I'd roll with that face and skill level.

Next up, On Sae-Miro will also pass.

I don't know if it's a four-point drop right now, but his singing ability is superior to that of the other contestants.

What can I say?

Three spots have already been locked in.

<Coming Up Next> B team's got five slots.

Only two spots remain, but there are seven competitors.

So what matters now isn't the sync-up dance that is impossible right from the start.

"You have to outshine the person next to you."

I skipped the evaluation on Lee Ye-On and On Sae-Miro, but everyone seemed to understand what I was trying to say.

"Dancing the same dance is an opportunity, right? A chance to show that I can dance the best."

All we need to do is match the timing and rhythm of the movements.

After that, emphasizing the parts that we can do well will be a hundred times better than crumbling while trying to pull off the perfectly synchronized choreography.

If the <Winning Team> was really my crew, I wouldn't set this goal, but they're just temporary allies.

Kim Seong-Woo, who had been listening quietly, chimed in.

"So that's why you actively pushed for the Boy Scout track?"

This dude's skills aren't that great, but he seems to be quick-witted.

"Bingo."

NOP's Boy Scout track's got a bunch of solo moves.

Plus, with the Boy Scout theme, there are mad playful gestures, and the emphasis is more on liveliness than unity.

Sure, there are some group dance parts that can't be digested with just a little practice, but it's not about hitting every part perfectly like a machine.

"So let's roll with this direction. We'll match the timing and rhythm of the movements. We'll also try to outdo each other."

"..."

After hearing my words, everyone exchanged glances before slowly nodding their heads.

With the situation sorted out like this, a belated concern arose.

Aren't I being too blunt with the cameras still rolling?

Besides, I feel like I'm talking down to them.

Have I picked up this habit from controlling the GOTM slackers for so long?

But better this than tanking the stage with useless antics.

PD Kang Seok-Woo's trying to cash in on <Under the Streetlight>, so he won't trash my image.

I'm sure he'll edit it nice and tidy.

After sizing the situation all up, I'm taken aback by Jae-Seong's interview.

"Bro? Si-On… Honestly… it was a bit touching."

Huh?

"The wording was sharp, but I could feel your desire for us to advance."

Me?

"I figured why you jumped on the rap part outta nowhere."

Jae-Seong is talking with a bright smile.

"When I was in my third year of middle school, I was really scared of my homeroom teacher, but looking back, he was really looking out for me."

"I saw that teacher in you."

Oh, that…

Is my age showing?

TL/n - 

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