Debut or Die-Chapter 295

The agency’s joint concert.

It’s normally an event only a company that houses at least one well-known male idol group, one well-known female idol group, and promising rookies would hold.

In that sense, one might think that an agency with three groups from meets the minimum requirements... but that would be a mistake.

On my way home, I scowled as I checked the planning proposal I’d brought with me.

‘I can’t imagine anyone being excited about this.’

This hastily thrown-together agency had no identifiable color of its own—no “signature vibe,” as they say.

‘There needs to be some common appeal between the teams to satisfy the audience.’

I don’t know what nerve this agency had to not only sign audition-show winners but also plan its own concert.

I could hazard a guess at their motive, though.

“Hmm~ Looks like they want to boost the rookies, huh?”

Big Sejin shrugged.

“Look, they even suggested we cover some of our songs—our season’s tracks are on the draft, too.”

“Mm.”

Bae Sejin, sipping water in the kitchen, spoke with a slightly nervous expression.

“...Isn’t this a generation-shift attempt?”

“Generation shift?”

“Well, our contracts are almost up... they want to steer fans toward the new group, right?”

“Are you saying we’ve already used up all our own potential?”

Rae-bin recoiled at how plausible that sounded; Bae Sejin nodded seriously.

‘Where did they hear that? On some YouTube channel?’

They’d been watching too much K-pop commentary and picked up some half-baked ideas.

I snorted and shook my head.

“I doubt it. I think they just want a bit of buzz for those rookie groups.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. Last season didn’t do as well as ours, so they want some of the spotlight. Don’t worry too much.”

From the company’s perspective, abandoning TeSTAR after building goodwill would be wasteful.

‘They probably assume we’ll re-sign.’

They’ll only nibble at the gains that stick to TeSTAR’s weight class.

‘You don’t butcher a goose that lays golden eggs.’

Big Sejin agreed at once.

“I’m with you! Staying alert is good, though—your take sounds right, hyung.”

“...Right.”

“Great point.”

Bae Sejin and Rae-bin instantly shelved their conspiracy theories. Then Cha Yoo-jin jumped in out of nowhere.

“So when do we do it? Let’s do it soon!”

“Let me see... in twenty-five days.”

Geon-woo pointed to the “venue confirmed by August” line on the proposal. I focused on another detail.

‘It’s smaller than I thought.’

Jamsil Indoor Gymnasium—10,000 seats.

They hadn’t crudely calculated fan numbers with “TeSTAR + Mirinae + rookies? Let’s go stadium!” They clearly lacked industry insight.

‘Head office must’ve stepped in.’

Since T-net will broadcast the concert, T1 probably pushed the agency to rush it through.

‘They want another hit like TaKon.’

Fans might gripe, but TeSTAR loses almost nothing.

‘Broadcasting part of the concert is also promo.’

Given we’re in the back half of our contracts, now’s the time to avoid friction with T1—boycott would be ill-advised.

“We only need to prepare five songs.”

I tapped the proposal and smiled.

‘They want us to carry their buzz.’

But they’ll have to own whatever that buzz means.

Two male idol groups from the same audition series, similar ages... covering the same songs?

They’ll be compared mercilessly.

And it won’t strain us.

“Hmm, three and a half weeks—tight.”

“Since it’s «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» like the last concert’s theme, it shouldn’t be too much.”

“We’ll need to ask about possible rearrangements.”

I summoned one member’s status window mid-conversation:

Name: Kim Rae-bin

Rap: A+ (S+)

Vocals: C+

Dance: B+ (A+)

Appearance: A- (A+)

Charisma: A (S)

Trait: Maestro (S)

You could pick anyone from our group and see similar stats. Many have risen at least three points since .

‘And Rae-bin even upgraded his Trait.’

No wonder—he volunteers for crunch-time tasks each album cycle.

The weakest was Bae Sejin, but he’s picked up some clever shortcuts lately.

“I just memorized the entire choreography by following the lyrics...!”

“...??”

When you know the basics, you can fake it by recreating moves rather than riding the beat—makes the group look tighter.

‘Isn’t that harder?’

He says he finds it easier.

Anyway, the key point is that it’s now nearly impossible to find criticism online about TeSTAR’s live prowess.

‘The cover difficulty is astronomical.’

Onyx once switched songs for their rookie award performance, and that example was etched in everyone’s mind—they dismissed it in image alone.

And this time, it’s them covering us.

When base stats and practice hours differ so drastically, the outcome is already foregone.

So worrying about fandom loss over this is odd.

‘Just mind your attitude toward the juniors.’

What worried me more was that joint stage we’d tacked on as filler. Geon-woo pointed it out with his finger.

Joint Stage (TBD) / 2 per team

“And one of the five is a joint stage.”

“Yes.”

Some of our members would share the stage with the rookies.

Aside from the tacky finale where everyone sings a national pop song, this would be the first and last time TeSTAR and the rookies perform together.

‘Someone’s gonna complain about who stands up front.’

At that moment, Cha Yoo-jin raised her hand bright and early.

“I’ll do it! I want to do the joint stage!”

“Ha ha.”

Figures.

Despite Yoo-jin’s eager volunteer, no one offered a firm “yes.” If we said okay in the heat of the moment, she’d actually end up performing.

‘It might be cruel to put Yoo-jin out there.’

For us it’s no big deal, but public opinion might judge it harshly.

It’d be like sending a secret weapon into a friendly match.

This required more thought, so we tabled it.

A little later, at the first group rehearsal schedule, it became clear that worry was justified.

“Here’s the new set list.”

We arrived early and saw the revised joint-stage lineup.

Joint Stage (TBD) / TeSTAR 2, Mirinae 2

‘They removed us.’

The debut-team from was gone.

The excuse? “We still have debut prep; adding another stage is too much.” Begging on bended knee.

“If everyone’s okay, I can slot those juniors in by smoothly transitioning from our stage to theirs.”

The director’s explanation sounded plausible, but strategically it was a rookies-first decision.

The excuse was slick, and perfectly timed.

“Hmm.”

...Intriguing circumstances.

For now, I’d deal with more immediate tasks.

While the director stepped out for another matter, I began revising the joint-stage plan.

Mirinae arrived in a flurry soon thereafter.

Bang!

“Hello, seniors!”

They weren’t late, exactly, but busy with their comeback prep. After greetings and staging, Geon-woo kindly explained:

“They said there was a change from the preliminary plan—we’ll be doing a joint stage.”

“Oh, okay.”

Min-ha, their #2, said wryly,

“We didn’t receive that plan, senior...”

As a less experienced group, Mirinae seemed to have been informed unilaterally.

‘Not a matter of experience—TeSTAR’s being treated specially.’

Despite overlapping events giving us the edge, normally even a fourth-year group would comply without question.

“Huh.”

Big Sejin quickly broke the tension.

“Does an initial plan really matter? We’re here to make an awesome stage now! Let’s do our best~”

“Right. Absolutely. We’ll work hard. Thank you!” 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

Cha Yoo-jin cheerfully extended her hand to seal the deal.

“Yes! Look forward to our performance too...”

“Wait.”

Without changing expression, I pulled Yoo-jin’s shoulder gently.

“Yoo-jin, it’s not ‘together,’ is it?”

“...??”

“Oh, right... we won’t be on that stage with you.”

Yoo-jin’s face fell, and she withdrew her hand.

That’s right. In the last-minute meeting, we’d removed Yoo-jin from the joint stage.

“What? I’m good at it!”

“Yes, you are. That’s why you’ll get a bigger stage with us at the concert.”

“What bigger stage?”

“Well....”

All I’ll say is we dangled plenty of carrots—and for a different reason than initially considered.

‘Yoo-jin is too amiable.’

She’d perform without restraint if given the chance—and that could easily cross a fan-friendly line.

‘A coed idol-group performance introduces too many variables.’

In this scenario, only those who think through every detail should go onstage.

So the answer was obvious.

“That... works!”

“Yes, yes~”

Big Sejin laughed and threw an arm around me.

“I’ll be on the joint stage with Mundae! Thanks in advance!”

And that was that.

At worst, we’d just hear people say it looked odd.

“Oh, good! Can I make suggestions aggressively here? I want us to do something amazing!”

“Yul-giyaaah!”

“Wait, am I weird??”

At Mirinae’s #1’s suggestion, the others made odd sounds and bowed down, clinging to her.

Their #2 nodded quietly with a face that said “I’ve given up.”

So #1 and #2 would perform with us.

They hoped to prove they could hold their own—and likely it was #2’s decision to place them there.

‘They must have guessed we’d try to win, regardless of mixed group or not.’

Maybe it’s because we all come from audition shows—yet another unique situation.

This could turn into a team-vs-team showdown like the show itself, spawning friction in the process.

“Wow, that’s reassuring! Let’s do our best!”

And normally they’d propose “let’s come up with a slogan” or “start a group chat,” but instead they just got to work—so I could see how it would play out.

‘Who among them has the best shot at quality...?’

That left only one choice.

From my list of candidate concepts, I naturally narrowed it down to one and discarded the rest.

Then I mentally simulated the meeting flow a few times to keep it smooth.

When the director returned and we finished announcements and discussions, a separate meeting convened for those preparing the joint stage.

First, the one thing you can’t easily change... the stage props.

‘As expected.’

Since this joint stage was in addition to each group’s existing sets, all the gear for the preceding and following stages was already claimed.

“Director, you said duplication was bad, right?”

“Yes, yes.”

I nodded.

So wires were out, as were confetti and lifts—already reserved for other acts.

“Water’s tough, too. Our next stage is a title song—if it follows something so similar, it’d be awkward, right?”

“Right.”

Big Sejin smoothly crossed off the devices TeSTAR had planned for our main stage. Well done.

Mirinae’s #1 looked impatient.

“How about picking the song first, like we usually do? Focusing only on what we can’t use is a bummer—we need energy!”

“Oh, unni!”

“True.”

Well said.

“What do you want to do?”

“Ah! I’d love something hip-hop....”

I waited for her to rattle off as many song ideas as she wanted.

Let the brainstorm flow until my choices surfaced naturally.

‘She seems the type with many ideas.’

And surely her suggestions would echo some of the concepts I’d considered.

“Thinking of that, what about “Attack”...?”

There it was.

Now it’d feel like they’d chosen the song themselves.

After a brief pause, I signaled Big Sejin and interjected.

“Come to think of it, you said you want something fresh.”

“Yes!”

“So what if we take that song and try... this concept?”

I sketched lines and notes on the paper: concept, expected effect, remix direction...

I wrote as if brainstorming off the cuff.

“Something like this.”

As I wrote, I got excited too, making it flow even more naturally.

I set the paper down and looked up.

Mirinae’s #1’s eyes lit up.

It’s working.

“I love it!”

“Me too... no, yeah. Senior, that’s a great idea!”

Good. Mixing a bit of corporate polish in among the genuine enthusiasm paid off.

That was the cue to the next build-up.

“Oh—so you all like this direction. Then we should choose props that fit—this one would be perfect!”

Big Sejin took their cue and pointed to one of the remaining stage devices.

– Laser

With that, the plan fell into place smoothly, with no wasted time on cross-fire.