Debut or Die-Chapter 224

After the vacation ended.

“You’re back?”

“Yeah.”

As soon as we returned to the dorm, I laid out the specifics of remote work for Kim Rae-bin.

Actually, I’d told him it would be hard on him alone, but preparing two versions of everything depending on his availability was no small feat.

“In truth, it’s a lot of extra work.”

If we kept the comeback schedule unchanged, doing this was obviously grueling.

There’d be no room to complain if they objected to a plan we three had made unilaterally.

Of course, none of them did.

“So, we’ll wrap up by having Rae-bin work on tracks from home and collaborate remotely on the album.”

“Ohhh.”

“Good job, phew.”

When I briefed everyone in the living room, relieved sighs erupted all around.

During the break they’d been too polite to ask directly, but everyone had clearly been racking their brains.

“So that means Rae-bin can stay with his grandmother... that’s a relief.”

“Exactly. Okay, so feedback on his work Monday and Thursday at 9 PM?”

“Right. And we’ll stay in touch in real time whenever possible.”

It was a compromise that satisfied both the guy who wanted Rae-bin to worry less and the guys who’d been anxious about his absence.

“Though the method’s different, our work hasn’t changed. Let’s make this album great together.”

“Let’s do it~”

“Fi-fighting...!”

With the extra workload, priorities naturally shifted—but I sensed something more.

“The staff will feel the same....”

There was no need for any incentives—I’d just have to check that the company paid proper overtime.

Still, there was one exception.

One member’s face had gone pale.

“...Good to hear, Rae-bin.”

Of course it was Bae Sejin, chiming in a beat late after everyone else’s relief.

‘He sounds sincere enough.’

But imagining him learning two separate choreography patterns at once had surely drained his color.

Still, he recovered remarkably fast.

Just after I’d finished, during the choreography meeting, Sejin had said:

“Shall we discuss the routine first?”

“Oh~ Since the numbers change, why not ask them to plan separate formations?”

“Hm... but maybe we should keep vocal members’ positions as consistent as possible?”

Cheong-woo had ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) summarized it roughly, but everyone knew he was trying to spare someone extra movement.

And the person in question reacted like this:

“No need. Let’s do the same.”

“R-Really?”

“...Yeah!”

“Oh! Awesome!”

Ahem.

I could see Bae Sejin quietly pleased by Cha Yoo-jin’s enthusiastic agreement.

‘I get it now.’

He’d gained a little confidence—probably thanks to his recent reputation boost.

I recalled spying him in the corner of the living room before our break, watching a fan-made “Bae Sejin’s Escape from the Hole” video on WeTube.

[Just as the AJUSA controversy was false, Sejin has shown astonishing growth since debuting.]

[Not only does he blend perfectly in group formations, but his fancams never miss a single detail from start to finish.]

[Isn’t this the standard for calling someone a “growth type”?]

Even with Bluetooth earphones in, the large subtitles were impossible to miss.

Comments were overwhelmingly positive, too:

– Sejin surprised me so much—he’s cute and hardworking on variety shows, I want to root for him, haha

– Imagine Sejin tapping “like” on these comments with his signature grin

Anyway, after that reality show segment on making hotteok, his public reputation had soared, giving him real motivation.

He was probably determined to prove himself fully this time.

‘But if he overdoes it, I’ll be in trouble.’

I couldn’t have him burn out mid-tour, so I’d need to ease the pressure on his shoulders.

“Okay, so no special comments—just request two sets of formations.”

“I’m fine with that.”

“Oh?”

“I’d appreciate minimal movement changes. Considerate, right?”

I deliberately glanced between Bae Sejin and Ryu Cheong-woo.

Well, I was a vocal member too.

Cheong-woo pretended to compile notes, stifling a smile as he nodded.

“Hm... all right. Sejin, can you keep it simple, as Mundae suggested?”

“...Sure.”

“All right then~”

When Big Sejin met my eyes, he raised and lowered his eyebrow ever so slightly—like “why spoil him?”—but he was predictably consistent.

“Have you informed the company?”

“Yes. I asked them to double-book the shoot schedule....”

I rubbed my chin.

“Now... let’s get straight to finalizing the album concept.”

“...That might take some time.”

“Let’s say a week, tops.”

“Okay.”

A sense of solemn purpose filled the living room.

Rae-bin’s absence was keenly felt—he’d been the one to Excel-schedule everything with uncanny skill.

And this concept would stand out more than any other in our promotional flow.

We needed clarity.

“Let’s confirm all contacts today, and start in earnest tomorrow.”

“Understood.”

“I’ll do my best...!”

And thus the final album preparations began.

Coordinating a busy freelancer’s schedule is surprisingly complex.

You have to fit all stakeholders’ calendars while not overworking the freelancer.

If that freelancer is an idol group... multiply that complexity several times.

That’s why you need a management office...

“They’re hopeless at logistics.”

I’d rather oversee it myself.

For example, staying in touch with Kim Rae-bin:

[Title Track_Work Verse 2_(1)]

[Title Track_Work Verse 2_(2)]

[Kim Rae-bin: I’ve worked on the rap in Verse 2 today. Please listen and respond with your vote for the better version.]

[Kim Rae-bin: Thanks as always.]

Rae-bin submitted his work reliably on time. I replied:

[Well done. I’ll send feedback shortly.]

Then I’d collect opinions from the other members and the AR team by the next morning.

That evening, I’d send the consolidated feedback back to Rae-bin, and the next version would arrive on schedule.

Normally I’d have him coordinate directly with the AR team, but given the circumstances...

I hesitated, then added a note:

[Let me know if anything’s especially difficult or troubling there.]

He’d need flexibility beyond work, after all.

Thankfully, he answered immediately this time:

[No special issues have arisen.]

Meaning his grandmother’s surgery had neither worsened nor drastically improved her condition.

‘Still... this can’t drag on too long.’

Just as I was contemplating that, messages arrived in quick succession:

[Thanks for worrying about me!]

[Kim Rae-bin: (Image)]

The attached image was a rose illustration emblazoned with “Strength for today comes from a smiling face and courage^^” in glittering rainbow text.

[Kim Rae-bin: My grandfather sent this and I loved the phrase. Wishing you a bright day.]

I snorted with amusement.

‘You’ve got barely two hours left, kid.’

But I took it as a wish for a good remainder of his day.

[Alright. You rest well, too.]

After confirming his polite reply, I turned off the screen.

From outside, I heard shoes slipping loudly on the floor.

“Let’s rehearse again.”

“Yes!”

Even though Rae-bin’s file had gone to the group chat, no one except me had responded in real time.

That’s because everyone else was busy learning the six-member choreography pattern.

They couldn’t very well ignore it, so I briefly stepped out.

“Mundae Mundae, did you check Rae-bin’s track? Which part is it?”

“Verse 2 intro.”

“Okay~ That’s it?”

They wanted me back for practice before the chorus repeats, so I stood beside the trainer.

“Let’s see Mundae’s part.”

“Yes.”

The demo—roughly arranged with some recording—in the speakers was the version I’d recorded.

...They’d mimicked my tone for each part to avoid confusion, which cracked me up.

– Haha! Is that me? Mundae’s pretty good!

– Let me try! Me next!

– Mundae, how about practicing as an impersonation?

If we ever appear on variety shows, they’ll probably repeat that story.

...Anyway, focus.

I concentrated on the choreography.

“One, two....”

The choreographer checked my movements and spacing, then nodded.

“You dance well. I especially like how you tilt your head.”

“Thank you.”

“And, this may be strange, but I think the song turned out great.”

That compliment would delighted any idol pre-release.

“Thanks!”

‘Fun.’

By the way, this choreographer was the same trainer I’d met on AJUSA.

He played it cool now, but his earlier cutting remarks were replaced by genuine care.

Whenever Bae Sejin hesitated or made a mistake, he wouldn’t lash out or ignore him.

‘This is society.’

Especially toward Seon Ah-hyun, who’d endured his harsh words during auditions—he was almost polite now.

It might not be ideal, but etiquette often works better when you’re delivering it from a position of authority.

“...Ah-hyun, let’s have you turn around once more over there.”

“Yes!”

‘Ah-hyun seems oblivious to it all.’

But the choreographer’s previously high-handed style was due to showbiz—and he’d calmed considerably now.

Best of all, the choreography was excellent.

No wonder we chose his draft as the main routine.

‘We’ve never done a style quite like this.’

“End of Verse 1.”

“Great job~”

“Thank you!”

Some of the guys falling down looked tired, but not panicked.

There was calm assurance in the steady progress of our work, even amid the rush.

‘Good.’

“M-Mundae. Water.” 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

“Thanks.”

Visualizing the remaining schedule, I took a sip.

Either way, it would work.

‘Still, I hope Rae-bin can join for the ideal scenario.’

This album’s image fit him so well.

I made that my conclusion and rested well during the short break.

“Ten minutes up.”

“Yes~”

But I hadn’t factored in one thing.

That I hadn’t been monitoring the internet closely for weeks.

And behind the scenes, word was already spreading.

[Rae-bin likely to miss this comeback]

Of course, it wasn’t as though I only noticed just now.

“Ah-hyun.”

“Mm?”

I’d succeeded in convincing my roommate that day.

So... the season of only seeing fur-covered wildlife on WeTube was over.