Debut or Die-Chapter 258
“Everyone! Are you having a warm-hearted year-end?”
“This year’s musicians, who set our hearts ablaze, are preparing another fantastic stage for you.”
The two idols beside me handled the hosting quite smoothly.
‘They’ve clearly got seniority for a reason.’
I took the mic.
“Then shall we meet the artists who delighted us with the year’s most brilliant performances, starting with the first stage of Gayo Daejeon?”
My sentence felt unusually long compared to theirs. Maybe they loaded up the script by seniority?
‘And who thought poking my cheek was a good idea?’
I couldn’t refuse the position, but I won’t forget this deliberate move.
“SBC Gayo Daejeon starts now!”
The cameras rolled, and the three of us smiled capitalist smiles at the lens. As soon as the lights dimmed, we each took a quick breath and smoothed our expressions.
“Phew.”
“Good!”
The VTIC guy beside me reached over and tapped my back—totally unnecessary senior behavior.
“Mundae, you did great!”
“Thank you.”
Youngrin glanced down at her script, smiled slightly, and added, “Still giving it your all, I see.”
“Thank you.”
I bowed repeatedly. With such a gap in seniority, it was better to be the perpetual gratitude bot throughout the shoot.
Right below our stage were fans waving lightsticks. A few camera lenses glinted in the crowd.
‘Nicely hidden.’
I spotted a few familiar cameras, flashed a knowing smile, then looked away. It was live, so leaking was a moot point.
‘When this stage ends, we reveal the broadcast theme...’
I ran through the horribly long next script line—“the hearts of everyone enjoying the festival”—once more. Even if it was on the teleprompter, I might stumble.
‘But... three idols as MCs might be overkill.’
Sure, it guaranteed buzz, but for stability, one professional announcer would’ve been better. I knew they calculated that since it wasn’t an awards presentation like drama or entertainment awards, they’d let it slide. Still, I didn’t want any nitpicking.
And it seemed everyone else thought so too.
“Wow, this is nerve-wracking! We’ve only ever hosted our own content, so to suddenly do a year-end show—wow! We’ll work really hard, everyone.”
First, the most experienced one was bragging like a rookie.
“Mundae, you’re still a rookie, so don’t be too tense. If you stumble, just finish the sentence—I'll pick up where you left off.”
This one sounded like a pro MC. She’d emceed all over the place, practically a deputy host.
“Thank you.”
I looked at Youngrin.
“But the goal is zero mistakes. I’ll do my best.”
Youngrin offered a tiny encouraging smile. She was like a team lead proud of her new recruit.
“All right.”
“Wow! Idols, fighting!”
The three of us clapped our hands in a cheer—funny, but at least no one was phoning it in.
“How was the National Gugak Center’s special performance introducing this year’s musicians?”
“It was truly wonderful!”
“The dazzling movements felt like they were showing us a bright new year—I thoroughly enjoyed it.”
And the three of us made not a single mistake throughout Part One. Myself included.
‘Good.’
[Advertisement]
As Part One ended and we cut to ads, I took a drink of water. From the singer’s seats I saw familiar faces waving back.
“Hyung, you were amazing—just like that!”
‘I can’t hear a word with that sound system and cheering section.’
Still, I waved back thanks, then flipped to the next cue card.
‘At least I’ll hit a baseline here.’
VTIC’s self-praise lines almost got awkward, but they covered for me—so I avoided the newbie parachute idol tag.
‘Let some articles come out.’
I shrugged and set down the water.
[30 seconds until Part Two]
Part Two’s first stage ended and the broadcast resumed.
“Mundae!”
Suddenly, something unplanned popped up that wasn’t in the script.
VTIC’s Chae-yul thrust a giant cupcake with lit sparklers right in front of me.
“...??”
What the heck was this?
“I heard it was your birthday a few days ago!”
“Happy birthday, Mundae.”
At the same time, crew members slipped a dog-ear headband onto me from below the camera.
“.......”
I stared, bewildered, at the headband someone handed me.
Couldn’t they have given me a heads-up, production team? What on earth is this in a live broadcast...?
“Smile!”
No need to write that on a sketch card. My grin was already splitting my face.
“Ha ha, thank you.”
“Blow out the candle!”
They just kept piling it on.
I beamed and blew out the sparkler. Then I tugged at the dog ears.
Wearing a suit, MCing a year-end show, and now doing a cutesy bit for the nation...
“Thank you.”
In the singer’s seats, folks were rolling on the floor laughing. We’ll see them back at the dorm.
...Wait a minute.
‘Speaking of which, the Part Two opening script is...’
“Next stage is a song about a beautiful birthday!”
“A track that lit up this summer!”
I forced myself to keep calm and finished the line.
“‘birthday boy’ by the 17-year-veteran band Gray Cable. We invite you to this special live performance.”
So that was the direction all along.
Is an idol MC’s dignity supposed to vanish just to introduce the next song? It’s not even a music show—yet here I was, still playing my idol role on a year-end program.
...And that tone continued through the ending.
‘Park Mundae is so cute!!’
Mundae’s home manager, who’d secured a spot under the commentary booth, almost cried tears of joy.
She’d heard the rumor he’d MC the year-end show and fought to get this seat—it was worth every effort!
‘This is it! This is the moment!’
Seeing Mundae in person again after so long was the best feeling....
He wore a navy suit with a black shirt underneath, his hair slicked back for a polished MC look. Yet, as the youngest MC, he’d worn a white ribbon tie—and it was just... too adorable!
Especially when he accepted the cupcake!
Caught off-guard, he looked flustered in the cutest way.
‘He’s got cream on his nose....’
As soon as she saw it, Mundae wiped it off, and staff fixed him up—but the home manager had already snapped the shot.
‘Ha ha ha...! Ha ha ha!’
Overjoyed by the in-person shoot after his accident, she quietly giggled and feverishly collected photos. The previews were all him!
After the extreme low points, the rollercoaster of madness, and the post-accident worry, her fatigue vanished.
She felt relieved and happy.
‘I’m really looking forward to this comeback.’
It felt so good to see him safely back. Smiling, she adjusted her mask.
‘Mundae looks in great condition!’
Every time members at the singer’s seats made eye contact and waved—when cameras weren’t on—they’d subtly wave back. She loved those moments.
And Mundae had even spotted her camera lens among the crowd. He’d made eye contact with it!
‘Let’s idol forever....’
Park Mundae was clearly the anchor of her KPOP life. That was that.
‘No transfers. None of that.’
Once an idol leaving the industry went into entertainment news, she’d sworn never to trust idols again—bitter memories of drunk nights—but after this series of wild events, that bitterness turned to dust.
A little while later, Part Three.
‘They’re heading there soon! The cue sheet matches.’
She saw Mundae stride from the MC booth and disappear behind it, and confirmed TeSTAR moving from the singer’s seats.
‘Year-end programs rarely release official fancams...!’
Her sense of mission clutched the camera tightly.
It was an incredibly gratifying time.
‘I loved it so much.’
Later, heading home, she left SBC Sangam Hall contentedly.
Her fatigue wasn’t registering—adrenaline coursing fiercely. She’d be tired once home, but for now...
Park Mundae’s home manager was overjoyed.
“They performed so well.”
TeSTAR’s skills hadn’t dipped at all.
Not a single choreo element was toned down or cut.
‘Actually, it felt even more polished!’
There wasn’t a trace left of the accident.
Even Mundae, who’d stumbled briefly at the group concert right after discharge, floated energetically tonight.
Fully armed, his competitive fire burned hot—onstage and through the camera lens.
And the stage itself was well composed. Using shooting props in “Spring Out” was spectacular and suitably grand for year-end.
She was sure it’d been a hot topic online.
‘Just... this one part!’
She hopped into a taxi, connected her laptop to the camera’s storage, and began reviewing the footage. She wanted to savor a few especially striking moments!
As she sped through the video in fast-forward...
‘Huh?’
Park Mundae, climbing up to the MC booth after the stage, passed under a light... and she saw a bright streak among his black hair.
A chill ran through her.
“A wig...!”
Whether spray or wig, that black hair was fake.
Park Mundae had... escaped black hair again!
‘Crazy! He’s dyeing his hair for this album!’
This was separate from her personal black-haired preference!
‘What color is it? What is it? Maybe color shows under the lighting?’
She buzzed with excitement and anticipation—it’d been too long since she felt this kind of joy.
“Ha....”
Wondering if she could refrain from spoilers till January, she spun off scenarios for his upcoming activities.
Meanwhile, the video she’d captured finished replaying.
Park Mundae, checking the cue sheet, successfully returned to the MC booth.
Watching again, that moment looked... odd.
“Huh.”
She felt her previous thrill drain away.
She zoomed in on Mundae’s upper body.
“.......”
It looked like he was watching TeSTAR return to the singer’s seats, but his expression flickered... fierce?
His eyebrows twitched.
‘What’s happening?’
She rewound a few times, but since she’d focused only on Mundae, she couldn’t tell exactly what he’d seen.
And his composure snapped back so quickly.
“Hmm.”
‘Must be my imagination.’
Reacting to just a few seconds of expression was obsessive. She shrugged it off and moved on.
But it wasn’t her imagination.
“Great job, everyone~”
“Mundae did an amazing job as MC.”
“Thank you.”
“Hyung, the dog ears as a birthday gift... ah!”
“Cut it out.”
The long live broadcast finally ended.
As we regrouped, we headed to the car. We’d go straighten things out in the practice room for an hour or two ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) before heading home.
“The MC was fine.”
The stage delivered the quality we prepared, so there was nothing worrying.
Except for one unexpected thing.
“You okay, neck?”
“...Perfectly fine.”
“Good to hear...!”
That guy—Seon Ah-hyun.
After the stage, I noticed some guys had gone overboard greeting Ah-hyun at the singer’s seats.
‘Must be those prepping for the collab stage.’
That’d be fine.
But afterward, Ah-hyun averted his gaze and bowed his head as if intimidated.
“.......”
It felt off.
When we arrived at the practice room, I grabbed one guy by the nape as he got out of the car.
“Hey.”
“Uh? Mundae, what’s up?”
It was Big Sejin.
I’d seen him discreetly break off the guys who’d been greeting Ah-hyun too much.
‘I think he noticed too.’
I quietly dropped my voice so the guys walking ahead wouldn’t hear.
Then I hit him with the question.
“You saw what happened at the singer’s seats... with Ah-hyun.”
“...Mm.”
Big Sejin seemed to understand immediately.
“That.”
“Yeah, did you see something? They looked like the collab guys.”
He shrugged.
“Obviously. They probably shoved Ah-hyun around.”
“...!”
“Ah-hyun’s too gentle. They tried to push him, saying ‘Oh, Ah-hyun, you get so much camera time, I’m jealous—looks like you don’t even need much practice,’ pulling him aside~”
“.......”
He teased so well I wanted to smack his mouth.
But Big Sejin turned serious fast.
“And it wasn’t just one or two trying to act buddy-buddy, right? Since Ah-hyun’s shy, they probably split up into cliques and whispered behind his back that he was playing favorites.”
“......phew.”
“Understand?”
“Yeah.”
This hierarchy crap again. Guess since they’re similar ages, they haven’t changed since AJUSA.
‘I thought they’d be awed by success.’
Forgot that if someone more successful seems easy, people get even worse.
Plus they’d mortared in only members with name value to dominate more.
‘I need to check in on this.’
Before entering the practice room, I decided to check on Ah-hyun’s state.
Just as I was about to move...
“Wait.”
“...!”
I was stopped. Turning, I saw Big Sejin shaking his head while holding my shoulder.
“Oh, right—Mundae, you’re not going to go tell Ah-hyun about any of this, right? Don’t, okay?”
“Why not?”
“Man’s got pride.”
Big Sejin gave a wry smile.
“If it were you, could you stand a same-age friend noticing this? Since you’re close, wouldn’t it feel worse?”
“...!”
“Let Ah-hyun handle it. That’s the right move.”
