Debut or Die-Chapter 246
The variety show production went more smoothly than expected.
They planned to just set up unmanned cameras and release episodes on W Live, but the head office must have caught wind of it and contacted us right away.
“Apparently there’s an opening on CVN. How about going over there?”
From what I heard through the grapevine, some drama had fallen through two weeks ago due to casting issues. They were offering us that slot.
Of course, it wasn’t a typical offer.
“They’re really bending over backwards, huh.”
“Seriously— they’re crawling for us!”
Everyone else seemed to think the same.
It was obviously a strategic move to smooth things over with TeSTAR.
But Bae Sejin wasn’t thrilled; he said it felt like a bait-and-switch.
“It’s like they’re trying to feed us something and then wipe our mouths. It’s not even singing, it’s a variety show...!”
That may have been true, but he didn’t press the point too hard.
“Well... since we decided not to sue, it doesn’t really matter if we take it.”
We had concluded we wouldn’t pursue legal action.
“Hey, hyung, about that...”
“Yeah?”
“I’m thinking of organizing the evidence everyone gathered for the lawsuit. Would that be okay?”
“Uh, sure! I don’t mind... but why?”
“There’s something I want to check.”
“...?”
Bae Sejin looked puzzled, but handed over his files without resistance.
And I was a bit surprised.
He had clearly researched every precedent.
From the situation with the previous manager to legal counsel notes— the material was thorough and practical.
If I added my call recordings and message logs, it could make for some very convincing litigation documents.
I had to admit it.
“He’s impressive.”
If Bae Sejin had had the chance, we might really have won.
It would have taken over a year, and even winning wouldn’t change the industry’s mood or broadcast availability, but still.
If cases like that accumulated, the atmosphere might shift.
“So, what do you think?”
I gave an honest answer. This proof of effort and focus deserved recognition.
“I’m actually thinking of achieving a lawsuit-like effect in another way.”
“...! Is that even possible?”
“I’m still working it out... but your materials are so solid. Once I organize my thoughts, could I get your advice?”
“Of course!”
Bae Sejin said, looking a bit sheepish afterward, but he seemed relieved.
“I’ll sort it out further.”
I stored everything on my phone.
That ended the lawsuit talk, and we eagerly accepted the head office’s offer. Prime TV exposure was hard to pass up.
And as soon as the professional variety team jumped on board, the scope ballooned... which wasn’t necessarily all good.
At the first rushed meeting, the producers said this:
“We’ve reserved an island!”
“...Excuse me?”
“There are TeSTAR fans everywhere, right? Some hardcore ones might follow you there!”
The production team beamed and displayed their info on the screen.
“So we snagged an island used by another show. We’ve booked the whole thing.”
Apparently a wealthy individual’s private island, complete with a stylish villa.
They even hosted an escape-show there earlier this year, so the broadcast facilities were already in place.
We’d save a ton of setup time.
“Perfect, right? It’ll suit watching TeSTAR chilling in nature.”
While the producers proudly bragged about staying within budget, the members looked uneasy.
“Can we actually relax here?”
With the scale this big, it felt like work.
But the producers were adamant.
“Play! Just play!”
“Um, are you sure that’s okay?”
“Of course— in a healing show, the editors handle the story and airtime!”
They were very hands-off.
“Anything you want, just say it! Yacht? Massage? Yoga?”
“King crab feast!”
“King crab feast it is!”
Cha Yoo-jin jumped on that first, and before long everyone was listing what they wanted to do.
Campfire, swimming, meditation, hiking— soon it was my turn.
“Mundae, what about you?”
“I... I’m thinking of cooking.”
It’d be good content and I wasn’t terrible at it.
But the producers had obviously planned cooking as a staple.
“That’ll come naturally. Anything else special you want to do while you rest?”
Cha Yoo-jin butted in.
“Mundae hyung, you take great photos!”
“Oh~ then wandering the island taking pictures together sounds fun!”
Activity levels were skyrocketing.
I abandoned my plan to stay indoors. We were clearly going to be busy.
On the first day of filming, after all the twists and turns:
“...?”
“Is that it?”
They herded us into a gorgeous villa dotted with unmanned cameras.
Literally no instructions, no staff.
“Uh... is there some game?”
“I thought we’d at least get a mission...”
There was none.
We were simply seven people in a spacious three-story villa on an island with stunning beaches, mountains, and wildflower paths.
“......”
“......”
Those lounging in the living room soon realized the drill.
“They really mean do whatever we want.”
“This is my first time doing something like this.”
And, true to form, they excitedly began exploring.
“Wow, this room is nice!”
“Two per room is standard... oh, this room fits three!”
“It’s huge!”
“Mundae, what are you doing?”
“Checking the water pressure.”
The villa was top-notch. I have no idea how they built and maintained this on a remote island, but it had gas and plumbing.
‘There must be a water tank on the roof.’
Aside from no one guaranteed a single room each, it was a perfect retreat.
[Welcome food for TeSTAR ^^]
In the kitchen was even a snack basket with a flower lei and a card.
The fridge was fully stocked.
‘Impressive.’
Honestly, I doubted the footage would be entertaining. I quietly closed the fridge door, where a large silkie chicken for samgyetang was chilling.
“I want black chicken! Let’s cook and eat it together!”
“Okay.”
“Yeeeees!”
Cha Yoo-jin was the most excited.
After the house tour, some members peeked outside.
“Is that... a barn?”
“Looks like it.”
“Mundaemundae, look! The escape-show set! They must’ve left the container wall.”
“Cool.”
Whether the containers hadn’t been removed or the owner let them stay, the broadcast logo wall remained.
If we got bored in a few days, we could explore it for fun. Same network, so good promo.
‘Honestly, I’m surprised if we last three days.’
What else is there besides three meals? After a day or two of island tours, we’d run out of things to do...
“Mundae, what’s that?”
“I thought it’d be good for hiking.”
“......”
I’d need to persuade them that rough trails were risky— glancing at the seven pairs of hiking boots Ryu Cheong-woo had brought.
“Oh, chicks in the barn!”
“Aww, so cute!”
From then on, it felt like an exploration show.
The first stop was the barn next to the villa, full of chickens and chicks. It looked newly built.
‘They must’ve stocked it for egg “theft.”’
A variety-show staple.
We strolled the beach, walked a meadow path, then had a simple meal.
Kimchi stew— the easiest dish.
“They’ve prepped rice. There’s canned ham, too.”
“...The stew is good.”
“Should we grab some eggs from the barn?”
By now I had a sense of it.
‘It’s just a countryside retreat.’
I’d almost forgotten the cameras existed. Even the walk had a drone following us.
They must’ve wanted the most natural footage, but I still doubted the content.
After lunch, just as we were getting drowsy...
Ding-dong!
The doorbell rang unexpectedly.
“Ooh~”
“Finally, a mission?”
It wasn’t.
“Hello! You signed up for today’s meditation class, right?”
“Gah!”
“Y-yes...!”
Requests from the meeting were materializing.
Meditation, aroma massages— experts and equipment arrived in front of the villa.
“Please lie face-down on the sunbed~”
“Okay!”
“Ugh.”
Bae Sejin’s moans during the massage must’ve been hilarious.
This was the real fulfillment of ‘do everything TeSTAR wants.’
I wondered if watching others feast on camera would get boring, but it might satisfy viewers’ vicarious cravings.
And they at least enforced some boundaries: we had to do our own chores.
That made sense. If it only showed us playing and then vanishing, it’d look bad.
Seven of us finished quickly, so it wasn’t a nuisance. Even the least self-sufficient tried hard, so it wouldn’t reflect poorly.
“I’m good at cooking!”
“No, you’re not— you’re better at moving stuff, so you should do laundry...”
“Kim Rae-bin can’t cook.”
“I can! I’ve proven myself in past cooking videos...”
I wasn’t sure if they’d air that, but if they did, it’d look like normal group teasing, not discord.
Three sweet days flew by.
“Phew.”
“In your heart— pa-pang-pang...”
When the relaxed members began oversleeping or running around singing as if no cameras were there, we got a message from production.
It came by text— maybe for better footage planning.
“Is this PD?”
“Yep.”
On Ryu Cheong-woo’s phone was a text:
[The weather is deteriorating. Please prioritize indoor activities and safety!]
“Good point.” Big Sejin read it aloud, shrugging.
“The sun was shining for three days straight.”
“Right. Should we reinforce the barn a bit?”
The forecast warned of strong winds and rain, so we spent the morning fortifying the barn.
That night—
KWA-KWA-KWA-KWANG!!!
“Holy shit!”
“That thunder’s loud.”
Thunder, lightning, and wind hit. We stayed indoors playing board games.
The next day—
KWA-KWANG!! KWA-KWA-KWANG!!
“......”
“...It’s still ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) going.”
I looked out to see waves crashing violently onto the beach.
If the villa had been built any closer to shore, the water would’ve flooded inside.
[Everyone, it’s impossible to launch boats or walk around the island right now. Please wait while we figure out a plan.]
The PD’s text was grim.
“Huh.”
“I thought it’d clear up today. The forecast was wrong.”
They attached an updated forecast showing this would last at least until the day after tomorrow.
‘We’re screwed.’
I already saw the show’s future: salvaging what daytime footage we had, and the rest dragging on.
Of course, other worries arose.
“We need to feed the chickens...”
Cha Yoo-jin asked, “What about our food??”
“...!!”
“Wait.”
I did the math.
The fresh supplies were supposed to arrive today.
Meaning we were running low.
“We have instant rice and cans. We won’t starve.”
“Ugh.”
Cha Yoo-jin pouted.
‘It’s more than food.’
Camera crews couldn’t come either, since they needed to switch memory cards. Everything was on hold.
I reached a conclusion.
“...We’re basically stranded here for the next two days.”
“......”
“No way...”
Between stunned silence, Kim Rae-bin swallowed hard.
“So... aren’t we basically stranded on an uninhabited island?”
“......!”
An unexpected twist in our content emerged.
