Debut or Die-Chapter 212
I hung up the phone with the T1 representative and replayed the conversation in my head.
‘They want me to appear as a mentor on a global K-POP survival reality show... huh.’
Of course, this wasn’t the first “global” survival program—AJUSA itself billed itself as finding global K-POP stars.
But this format was... unusual.
‘It’s not airing on Tnet, but a NetPlus original production.’ 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞
They must’ve green-lit it after AJUSA had modest success in the English-speaking NetPlus market.
The show’s structure was quite experimental, but what mattered was that the offer was solid.
–Once your appearance is confirmed, the dedicated team will be set up immediately.
That was straightforward.
A dedicated team in exchange for a variety show appearance was a fair trade.
‘And it’s not only TeSTAR serving as mentors either.’
I wasn’t the only one who thought so.
Every member’s reaction was uniformly, “Let’s do it.”
“Hmm... sounds good.”
“So once we appear, the dedicated team will be established? Long-term that’d be huge for us!”
But worries followed.
“...Those producers are kind of rough around the edges.”
“I-I’m not sure I have the chops to teach anybody... is it really okay?”
They’d said exactly what I’d expected, and most concerns were rationally addressed.
“You don’t need to worry about that. You’ll do fine.”
“Yeah, yeah—given the show’s concept, I doubt mentors will get demonized by editing, right?”
“Right.”
Having rookies as mentors was actually a selling point, and there was no reason for them to villainize us in editing.
What kind of show was it?
After accepting, I learned during the producers’ meeting.
“We’re gathering K-POP haters and putting them through K-POP training. Of course it’s a one-off for comedy’s sake.”
“......??”
The members looked taken aback.
‘Still blunt as ever.’
Even after all this time, Ryu Seorin’s bluntness shone.
She’d grown even more abrasive now that TeSTAR had blown up.
‘Maybe she didn’t need to sweet-talk us like during recruitment.’
Maybe she was tougher because Ryu Cheong-woo found her uncomfortable—Big Sejin quickly jumped in.
“Ah, so the foreign folks unfamiliar with K-POP learn and come to love it, right?”
“You could put it that way.”
She was plotting a bigger, more extreme arc—but we didn’t need every detail.
The producers had one demand.
“You absolutely must be kind to them.”
And that wasn’t worrisome at all.
“We’ll script it so your skills shine even more.”
“Exactly! You’re always amazing, so if we just capture you well on camera, that’ll be enough~”
Ryu Seorin’s filter-free praise made the others uneasy, so another producer chimed in to flatter TeSTAR.
Then a composed Ryu Cheong-woo spoke up.
“And there won’t be any moments that make us look arrogant on screen, will there?”
“......!”
“Of course not.”
Ryu Seorin answered calmly, though slightly rattled.
‘Ah.’
That opening stance was a power move.
They suspected TeSTAR would push back, so they came in hard.
‘We should’ve guessed from the start when they dangled the dedicated team.’
The rumor had already spread among insiders that TeSTAR wouldn’t just meekly appear in their show.
But since they’d laid it out bluntly, there was no wriggling out—T1 had already applied serious pressure.
‘Editing worries? None.’
No producer would pick fights with the parent company.
“The mentors will include TeSTAR and various K-POP stars....”
“Mm-hm.”
The meeting proceeded smoothly and wrapped without issue.
A few days later, headlines appeared.
[NetPlus Partners with K-POP for Massive Survival Variety Show]
[“Guaranteed Star-Studded Cast”... What Is NetPlus’s K-POP Reality?]
[NetPlus Makes Major Investment in K-POP Show Know KPOP Now—Targeting the K-POP Market]
They seemed keen to build their new studio’s brand, so they omitted mentioning T1.
Instead, rumors about the cast flooded the internet.
– I heard B.Y.T is confirmed
└ Delusional—why would the male-idol captain do some third-rate NetPlus show
└ Are you stupid? NetPlus made the B.Y.T docu too lol
– Lineup’s insane, everyone’s talking—curious
– Production’s Mighty Studio? LOL it’s full of AJUSA crew, gonna be hilarious
└ AJUSA’s contestants all on board, seems like the whole cast’s locked in
└ Internet’s flipping out
– But is it really an audition? With that lineup, what’s the competition?
If people knew mentors had small screen time, interest would’ve died quickly—but they didn’t know.
‘They’re getting the exact hype they promised.’
Amid all the idol names, the official cast list remained embargoed as filming approached.
After an eleven-hour flight to L.A., I finally saw the rumor’s source.
“Hello.”
‘Fuck.’
VTIC was really there.
But only Cheongryeo, not the others.
‘I didn’t see him on the lineup I heard.’
I later learned he personally signed off at the last minute and flew in by private jet.
No doubt the most in-demand mentor cut the line to join.
“I didn’t expect you’d appear as one of the mentors, not just a guest, on an audition show.”
And Cheongryeo gave the answer I half-suspected.
“Oh, I’m releasing a solo album soon. Thought it’d be good global promotion?”
“.......”
“So, like the junior said, we’re branching out beyond the group. Haha.”
“Oh, sure.”
‘How the hell did the company persuade them?’
Even after fans regularly sent trucks demanding solo activities, that agency had caved? Did Cheongryeo threaten to leave?
...Wait.
‘Maybe the reason they never let him solo before was his own influence.’
They might’ve intentionally blocked him to keep the group from splintering.
‘Whatever—it’s none of my business.’
Whether he’s here or not, aside from annoyance, it’s fine.
“...Park Mundae! Let’s sit!”
“Oh, yes.”
I returned to my assigned booth seat at Bae Sejin’s loud call.
He covered the mic and whispered urgently.
‘Why does that crazy guy keep talking to you?’
‘Right? Does he want his head smashed again?’
‘.......’
It was convenient that only those who knew the stalker-attack incident over vacation supported me.
‘Should we skate by like this?’
Honestly, I didn’t care if the show flopped.
They courted this lineup—if it bombs, it’s on the producers, not TeSTAR.
And just yesterday, the dedicated team proposal passed internally. Once our activities wrap, we can pull in the right people.
‘That’s enough.’
We’d extracted all we could from this deal. Now, as long as TeSTAR doesn’t get trashed on the show, that’s fine.
The flight time felt wasted, but since I was here anyway, I’d squeeze in some U.S. schedule.
‘Judging by the script, the cast takes all the spotlight.’
Those AJUSA producers must’ve crawled up from the depths of hell.
“Standby starts now!”
“Got it~”
On the monitors the mentors watched, the participants appeared as scripted.
– “I’m ready to be famous!”
– “Call me uncool, but I’ll lie for hearts on social media. Everyone does that, right?”
– “I want people to know me, go wild over me, love me. I’ll do anything for that.”
Friendly English captions underlined their identities.
In crude terms, they were attention whores.
‘They’d literally sell their souls to become famous.’
The show had recruited participants with the promise “We’ll teach you how to be famous.”
And the producers hadn’t explicitly stated one filter: musical taste.
– “K-POP? No thanks! I never... listen to that! Never!” (laughter)
– “I’ve seen those kids at school listening to it, though.”
As Ryu Seorin predicted, they hated K-POP.
“Too harsh!”
It was funny watching them say it unabashedly into the monitor.
Thus the show’s story was set.
Participants expecting “I’ll be famous worldwide on NetPlus,” only to get a taste of K-POP bootcamp.
‘No wonder they insisted we had to treat them well.’
They wanted the jaw-dropping moments and the “I will never mock K-POP again” declarations.
‘Definitely a big dose of national pride.’
It would also bait overseas fans. Whether they could spin that cringe into universal appeal was another question.
“This is entertaining.”
“You might hate it!”
The mentors, anticipating those scenes, looked relaxed watching the monitors.
‘Honestly, the participants probably know too, so it’s all staged.’
But that was none of my concern.
We just had to play our roles.
Mentors appearing on elaborate platforms to each team amid participants’ excitement, with over-the-top “K-POP effects” foreign audiences expect.
Pew-pew-pah! Bzzz-brrrr!
[Please welcome with applause! Here to teach you how to become famous... seven K-POP star teams!]
An AI MC, provided by O-Star, shouted in English.
Then a curtain dropped above the set, revealing on the big screen:
–Welcome to
☆K-POP Training Camp☆
Unsurprisingly, the reaction was lukewarm.
[Oh.]
[Wow!!]
But startled, reluctant, or exaggeratedly amazed attention-seekers were cut quickly to the next shot.
‘No time to waste.’
How much time could seven idol teams devote?
After most mentors wrapped and only a few went to change costumes, participants received their briefing on the new content.
The so-called “Intro Stage.”
[On this stage, you could win the show and leave—before even entering camp!]
In short: “Don’t accept those as mentors? Beat them now to win the prize immediately.”
And I took my first assignment.
[Our mentors—please make your entrance!]
A gimmick that was ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) cheesy but likely to work.
[With 100 randomly selected L.A. residents as the audience, you’ll alternate singing the same song as your mentors!]
[Of course, the song isn’t K-POP... but a pop song you pre-selected as your specialty!]
[And now the mentors will see that song!]
It was us versus them, stripped of rank.
