Debut or Die-Chapter 256
Evening at the dorm on the last day of the Chuseok holiday.
Members began returning one by one.
Actually, I thought Bae Sejin and I would arrive first, but someone beat us here.
“Oh?”
“Oh~ Mundae’s back! Glad you made it, glad you made it! Sejin hyung too~”
Big Sejin, whose family home is close to the dorm, had returned early and was lying on the living-room sofa, watching a special episode of “TeSTAR’s Island Life” with commentary.
I’d heard he’d enjoyed the holiday with his excited cousins, handing out autographs like a first-tier idol.
Soon enough, there’d be a flood of sightings and autograph proofs from Big Sejin’s relatives all over SNS.
“How was it, cool-as-ever Mundae? Our madam wanted to see you in person—she’s so bummed she missed you!”
He’d even gone to his great-uncle’s place, yet he could still talk a mile a minute.
“Yeah. I should call her on video next time.”
“Ha ha!”
Big Sejin chuckled.
Whether he really enjoyed the rest or was just relieved to see his popularity in real life, either way, he was relaxed—and that was good.
Now we could squeeze every last drop of energy into making the album.
“Oh, looks like most of you are here already.”
“I-I’m back...!”
Ryu Cheong-woo and Seon Ah-hyun arrived almost simultaneously. Ah-hyun said he’d gone on a family trip again and even brought souvenirs from a small island in the South Sea.
I accepted a goose-shaped bread Ah-hyun handed me. Inside was green-tea cream.
“Ah, it was near that island we went to! My parents said they’d always wanted to visit....”
‘After seeing what a pain it was...?’
I didn’t know. But since he had fun, I let it go.
“Did everyone have a relaxing holiday?”
And Kim Rae-bin, lugging a bundle of bags, looked a bit chubbier.
From grandma’s hospitalization to his own car accident, his family must’ve fed him nonstop this year.
“Hyungs?”
“...Yeah, good to see you.”
“Yes!”
Well, it was the inactive period. It wasn’t like his health had deteriorated... Once we started preparing the album, he’d naturally snap back.
Besides, we’d get confirmation of that later at dawn.
The last one to show up was the one with the most extreme image change.
“Yoo-hoo! Everybody say hello~ like annyeonghaseyo!”
“Cha Yoo-jin!!”
That’s right—Cha Yoo-jin, who’d flown in from Los Angeles at dawn.
He looked... mottled.
In a good way, he looked healthy; in a bad way, he was a sunscreen destroyer.
He must’ve had an amazing beach holiday.
‘The stylist’s going to faint...’
They’d probably lock him indoors and make him take vitamin D orally only.
“Hey! What’s with your face!”
Rae-bin, aghast, swatted Yoo-jin on the back.
“Ow! No, I’m healthy and cool!”
“No you’re not! This isn’t a healthy tan, it’s just a total management failure!”
“Rae-bin, you didn’t work out either! Failure on your part!”
“...! Ah, no, I’ll recover my muscle loss soon through exercise....”
Anyway, only after that commotion could I bring up the main point.
It was two in the morning.
“Tomorrow... I mean, this afternoon around lunch, I’m planning to go to the company.”
“Wahngh?”
“Why, why...?”
“Mundae, you’re such a workaholic. Rest a bit. You worked at Sejin hyung’s place too, right?”
“No, listen first.”
The moment I said that, they all gathered around.
I pressed my hand to my forehead and began.
“So, I was thinking—especially since Bae Sejin hyung gathered all those lawsuit materials—it’d be a shame not to use them....”
I explained the plan I’d leisurely drafted during the holiday.
“Hmm.”
Big Sejin, who’d already heard it before we ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) departed, nodded with little reaction, while the others went from exclamation marks to pensive faces.
“Th-that’s even possible...?”
“...It’s possible. I asked a lawyer.”
After Bae Sejin’s response, Rae-bin raised his hand.
“Is this illegal?”
“No, it’s not.”
What followed was a fairly productive discussion, with questions and answers.
In the end, Big Sejin shrugged.
“Well, it’s already all settled the way we wanted, right? I think it’ll work.”
“Right. So shall we all go together tomorrow for a meeting?”
I shook my head.
“No, I think it’s better if I go alone.”
“Huh?”
Too many people would feel intimidated by a secret one-on-one meeting. And if a bunch of younger guys showed up, they’d think it was mutiny from below.
One representative was enough.
After I explained that part, I added,
“Cheong-woo hyung is leader, so if he’s the rep they’ll treat it as an official deal. I think it’s better if I go and catch them off guard.”
“Hmm....”
Bae Sejin frowned and spoke up.
“But considering retaliation or threats....”
“I’m fine with that. I have no intention of using extreme measures.”
“...?”
Why that look?
I was puzzled for a moment, then let out a dry laugh.
“Oh, you mean the head of headquarters?”
“....”
“I don’t think he’s capable of that. Not someone like him.”
And a short while later, I was confirmed as the one to deliver the proposal.
Smooth.
T1 Stars’s third head of headquarters had a decent Chuseok holiday.
A deranged fired employee had caused headaches, but from right before the holiday his recovery had gained momentum.
Still, thinking of the damage to the company’s image, headquarters’ interference, and tour cancellations left him with a dull ache.
‘Good thing they recovered.’
At least the TeSTAR member in a coma hadn’t died, but what came next was hardly comforting.
‘A charity concert in the meantime.’
And on another agency’s affiliated platform, no less.
He was suspicious.
‘Are they planning to transfer over there or something?’
He couldn’t outright stop public opinion or atmosphere, but as someone new to the entertainment world who thought of idol agencies like sports teams, he felt even more unsettled.
He thought it was them testing the waters.
But there was no sign TeSTAR had contacted that agency again, so he dropped his suspicions for now.
‘Once public sentiment recovers, we’ll gently coax them back into touring.’
He planned to prepare the next album by the end of the tour for a global launch.
In the meantime, reflecting the picky demands of these idols was already a stress.
‘These guys never even went to college. They should at least do a decent job as the face of the business.’
Hollywood’s early star marketing—selling fame like a ticket—was what got the industry into this mess!
Anyway, he clicked his tongue, lamenting the lack of structure and dignity in the entertainment business.
Though he’d jumped in ambitiously, he’d grown cold on it.
‘I’ll just build up my portfolio for a few years then launch another business line.’
Then at lunchtime, he met the TeSTAR member he’d scheduled.
“Hello.”
“Please, have a seat.”
Frankly, it was absurd. Since when did he have to make appointments based on a word from one of his signed talents?
Still, thinking it might be a new angle, he decided to hear him out.
After all, the car accident incident had shaken the company.
‘Let’s see.’
He sized up Park Mundae, who’d come alone.
‘A solicitation, huh.’
Not the leader, but he’d heard this was the guy who’d been contacting headquarters before.
He hadn’t guessed that they’d formed a dedicated TeSTAR team because of him.
He didn’t expect a high school dropout idol to be that sharp.
Still, he thought he could use him.
‘Push him a bit and he won’t resist wanting more.’
He seemed to have a voice in the team and some ambition. After all, he came to see him even after waking from a coma!
But the moment they sat down in the private sushi restaurant serving course meals, Park Mundae pulled out documents.
“These are the lawsuit papers.”
“Kugh!”
The head of headquarters sputtered.
But the idol across from him didn’t flinch; he just stared.
Silently observing.
“....”
The head’s anger threatened to boil over, but he pragmatically grabbed the papers.
And then he was shocked.
“...!”
“These are the agency’s negligence evidence related to my former manager.”
The documents were thorough in the legal sense.
Some details had been deliberately redacted, making it hard for the company to prepare rebuttal materials even after reviewing them.
Clearly crafted by an expert.
‘He hired a lawyer...!’
The head of headquarters took a discreet deep breath and set the papers down.
“So why are you showing me this?”
“....”
“It doesn’t look like you intend to sue immediately. What do you want from me?”
Park Mundae admitted it.
‘This guy really is sharp.’
After all, this head wasn’t a parachute hire or a relative of an executive. He was just an overinflated superior.
Which made him easier to deal with.
He remembered his conversation with Bae Sejin the night before returning to the dorm.
–...Mundae, you mentioned taxes at the first settlement. This is the pre-tax amount, so you’ll lose a lot later.
–Yes.
–Right. As I thought. Idols aren’t employees.
Park Mundae had understood that from his legal knowledge gained through college and civil service exam studies when drawing up the contract.
Idols don’t sign labor contracts with their agencies.
That means they’re classified as individual business owners, often not covered properly by the Labor Standards Act or the Occupational Safety and Health Act.
‘But the agencies are way too powerful for that to really matter.’
Since he couldn’t change that immediately, he let it slide.
Park Mundae’s thought was this:
‘On the other hand, that means we can draft the contract more freely.’
A business-to-business contract.
So he made this proposal.
“Let’s add a clause to the standard contract—both a penalty and a guarantee.”
“A guarantee?”
“Yes, not something drastic, more like a wager concept. The details are....”
Park Mundae smiled.
“If TeSTAR wins the Grand Prize at any annual awards show next year, the company will fully support the establishment of TeSTAR’s new independent label.”
“...!!”
“Set the term at two years... Oh, of course it remains under T1. If the contract is broken, it applies. They have to stay under T1.”
On the paper Park Mundae handed over, the details were densely written.
–‘Annual awards show’ means any ceremony hosted by a music- or album-platform broadcaster that represents over 70% of that year’s music-market sales.
–...During the verification period, Party A guarantees Party B’s leading and safe activities. ‘Leading’ means....
In short, let us handle things and don’t interfere; just take proper care.
And Park Mundae realized:
‘This bastard has no entertainment-industry connections.’
What he had was enough connections among T1’s board to secure this head’s seat. But he surely couldn’t reveal that to his superiors for reputation’s sake.
‘Then I’ll just take it on my own.’
Actually, he could spill it.
‘It’s just repeating that we have no intent to distance ourselves from T1, only from the agency you head.’
He’d already used that logic when requesting the dedicated team. Even if the deal were exposed, headquarters had no new reason to antagonize TeSTAR.
“....”
At that moment, the head of headquarters had run similar calculations.
If he threatened or strong-armed him, it’d blow up in his face.
So he clasped his hands and spoke more soberly.
“I understand the artist’s request, but this isn’t a matter I can approve on my own. I’m just an operations manager... I have to discuss this with the board and the CEO.”
It was a lie. In reality, the CEO had given him the position just to hand business cards to T1’s relatives.
He was actually the one to discuss these contract amendments.
“Oh, I don’t really know about that.”
Park Mundae didn’t flinch.
“I’ll leave the persuading to you, head of headquarters.”
“...! What....”
“No... because I don’t really understand. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll just proceed with the lawsuit. The lawyer will handle it.”
Was he crazy?
The head of headquarters was rendered speechless, staring at Park Mundae, whose smooth face betrayed no emotion.
That’s when he knew.
This guy would really go through with the lawsuit without a second thought.
And you can’t persuade a madman like that.
“There’s a new season of AJUSA coming up soon, and the people who debut there will join our agency, so our contract term isn’t that long anyway... A label isn’t too much to ask, is it?”
“....”
“If you win the Grand Prize, just create a label for us—that’s all. Doesn’t seem hard.”
And at sunset that day, Park Mundae left with all seven copies of the amended, stamped contracts in hand.
‘Clean.’
If you press someone without giving time, this is what happens.
Giving extra days on such issues would only invite trouble.
‘Quick resolution is the answer.’
And since that clause tied TeSTAR’s performance to his own career, he couldn’t block them from winning.
That head was obviously so hungry for prestige it was disgusting.
Also, he added a double-penalty clause for breaches, just in case.
Park Mundae shrugged.
‘I couldn’t get the legal precedent Bae Sejin wanted... but I hope he’s satisfied with this.’
Either way, through next year—and beyond if we win the prize—our freedom to maneuver would be complete.
If we don’t win?
‘Then the contract term will almost be up anyway.’
He shrugged.
Either way, there was nothing to lose.
“Shall I go prepare the album?”
He was ready to pour every last drop of time into it.
‘This time we’ll do it right.’
...And so began an intensely high-pressure album-prep retreat.
For reference, TeSTAR’s planned comeback first stage was at the year-end awards ceremony hosted by T1.
