Debut or Die-Chapter 312
The two-day concert concluded in great success.
– Please, an encore
– How could you create something like this and then end it in two days, you crazy people (I mean that in a good way, actually not)
– If the VOD comes out, definitely buy it—I recommend it for the public good
An overwhelming majority of the fans who attended reacted positively. First and foremost, it was fun and fresh.
“A concert in dramatic form that brought the narrative to life. Their strong performance did half the work.”
No need to hide my status window; the performances were outstanding.
Of course, some complained about a lack of intimacy and communication, but after the planned W Live wrap-up, those voices largely faded.
[경☜ TeSTAR Karaoke Opening ☞축]
We didn’t just recite concert behind-the-scenes stories—we took song requests karaoke-style and ran with them.
My throat did take a bit of a beating, but it was worth it.
“Good.”
I downed the remainder of my balloon flower juice in one gulp.
A cold wind blew outside. The others who went out must be having a rough time.
– Mundae, Mundae, you’re really not coming?
Even the one who kept asking until the end finally went out to enjoy his single day off. Understandably so.
It’s now early November—a period for tightening up stages ahead of year-end.
Meaning: after today, you can’t expect any more days off this year.
“No, probably not until February.”
Since there’ll be awards ceremonies and a tour combo.
There’s no special notice from the staff today—they’re insanely busy, too. They said this concert’s format is so unique that it’s hard to adapt to the usual tour venues. So they must be revising the plan, mixing in more standard concert setups to fit different venue specifications.
“A busy season.”
Today is likely the last bit of downtime, so I should clear my head and rest....
Rrrr!
My phone buzzes.
[VTIC Shin Cheong-ryeo sunbaenim: (Image)]
[VTIC Shin Cheong-ryeo sunbaenim: How have you been?]
“.......”
Are we on “how are you” terms? This guy never reached out when I had downtime, so ignoring is best.
But the attached image changed my mind. It wasn’t yet another dog photo—it was a screenshot of an online article.
[“A magic boy who defeats villains with song!” TeSTAR appears on 〈T-Holic’s Show Business〉]
A provocation.
I replied:
[Yes, sunbaenim. I’ve been active. So many people found that photo funny that I’ve decided to embrace it.]
The reaction was great—what does it matter if they call me magical girl or boy?
Not self-congratulatory: that variety show is still talked about online. TeSTAR is indisputably the hottest rising male idol group this year.
“We’ve run a flawless second half of the year.”
In terms of results, recognition, and buzz, we stand undefeated. If a friendly ceremony to T1 offers us a grand prize, it’s practically guaranteed.
“Is this guy mad that I got that?”
But his reply came without delay:
[VTIC Shin Cheong-ryeo sunbaenim: I said it suits you well ^^]
This jerk is really trying to fluster me....
“He cleared everything with a Gold 2 cooperation, huh?”
Better to stick to dog photos, but I considered ignoring and turning off my phone.
Then, unexpectedly, the phone rang—without me replying.
[VTIC Shin Cheong-ryeo sunbaenim]
“...?”
What now?
Since there might be some useful info, I answered.
“What can I do for you?”
A calm voice on the line:
– Um... I just wondered if you had anything to tell me.
“Excuse me?”
What nonsense is this?
After a moment of silence, a slightly disappointed tone:
– Not yet?
“Not yet?”
– That was me talking to myself. I just called because I was curious how you’re doing.
Doesn’t feel like it.
“As I said, I’m doing well.”
Could “not yet” mean some trick he set hasn’t triggered? I asked directly:
“Did you have something specific prepared?”
– Hm?
“You said ‘not yet.’”
He chuckled softly through the line:
– Ah, no, nothing in particular. I wondered if you’d returned to the country yet. TeSTAR had a short overseas schedule last week.
“But that sounds like an excuse.”
He gave no sign of scheming, so I let it slide.
– We have returned.
“Okay.”
“If you have time, since you’re back, why not appear on T-Holic sunbaenim’s show? I recommend it.”
I was curious what he’d do with that bunch of bores, but he replied indifferently:
– Ah, they... sunbaenims.
If it wasn’t a phone call, he wouldn’t even have called them “sunbaenim.”
– Their survival instinct is amazing. No matter what scandal arises, their recovery is so good... I’ve often admired it.
He meant after trying to kill us off in every way, we grit our teeth and survived.
I summarized simply:
“You’re one of them, too.”
– Hm, really? I’ve suddenly become one of those, huh.
For some reason he seemed amused—infuriating me.
– Anyway, I’m not planning to go on, but thanks for the recommendation.
“You’re welcome.”
Doing this calmly.
‘...Even if they hand out one grand prize, his position remains secure.’
All right. Less chance this jerk will stab me in the back again.
Cheong-ryeo ended the call with a laughing tone:
– Then I’ll see you at the awards ceremony.
“Yes.”
And that’s exactly what happened.
I saw Cheong-ryeo again at a major domestic music chart awards ceremony scheduled at the end of the month.
“Ah, do you think TeSTAR will show... something today?”
“Of course!”
“Ha ha!”
Before the ceremony began, the members in the waiting room, done with preparations, looked half-excited, half-nervous.
Honestly, if anyone here didn’t expect us to win something, that’d be weird.
...Though I didn’t expect someone to crack open champagne already.
“Shall we toast?”
“Yeah, cheeeeers!”
Holding the non-alcoholic champagne from catering, they looked like students eating rice cakes right before college entrance exams.
“Well... the mood’s good.”
Amid those hyped-up guys, Ryu Cheong-woo pointed at someone with a smile.
“Sejin looks like he has something to say. Can you give us a toast?”
“Me?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh~”
Bae Sejin blushed but didn’t argue.
“Um, then....”
He cleared his throat several times, then spoke seriously:
“This year... everyone worked so hard, and regardless of the results, let’s not doubt that we did our best!”
Surprisingly fitting. Ryu Cheong-woo clearly chose well.
“He must’ve prepared this in secret.”
“Hyung....”
“I agree!”
“Very moving.”
The atmosphere was perfect.
Keun Sejin, without complaint, grinned and extended his hand.
“Let’s do our best next year, too! Ah, but we should do our proper slogan one more time before we go~”
“...Right!”
“Sounds good!”
Linking arms, they formed a circle to shout the slogan—something you’d hear before a sports match.
In terms of victory, defeat, and rewards, it isn’t so different from a game.
“Mun-dae, your turn!”
I extended my hand. The familiar slogan rang out vigorously:
“Ah, today TeSTAR will show something!”
“Yeah!!”
Adrenaline rushed through me. I downed the non-alcoholic champagne, set the empty glass on the table with a smack, and said:
“Let’s go on out there.”
And so the first awards segment began.
The first half of the 〈Grape Music Awards〉 passed without incident: strong rookie stages, stages that were meaningful despite lower scores, rookie showcases from major agencies....
Nothing particularly significant—just that a group with a Gold 2 made a cameo.
Of course, to avoid controversies, I took the posture of attentively watching every stage.
Only after the long first half ended and the second half began did the awaited moment arrive.
After more stages, the presenter’s fame rose, and the pre-announcement buildup stretched on:
[The next award is given to the artist who brought the most comfort and inspiration this year.]
Yes.
[The Artist of the Year Award!]
The first grand prize category—and the one we were aiming for.
The camera panned across the table of nominees.
Without hesitation, it stopped on ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) our table directly in front of ours.
“Oh....”
“Shh!”
Keun Sejin shushed Cha Yoo-jin. Spot on.
Time passed.
[The winner of this year’s Artist of the Year is....]
Drumroll.
Awkward smiles from the artists.
Wobbling lightsticks.
And finally, the word spoke:
[...TeSTAR!]
The camera light turned red.
[Congratulations!]
Wooooaaaah!!
The sounds of confetti cannons, cheers, and music.
And the familiar faces on the big screen. The transition from stunned to joyful expressions was identical.
Funny thing is, I wasn’t any different.
“Ah.”
I’d expected to win.
They wouldn’t have moved this award to the front without intending it. In order of seniority, the senior had to get the finale.
But... honestly, I’ll admit it:
It felt like a gong was struck in my head. Goosebumps crawled up my skull.
“Grand prize.”
Were we really getting this this year?
Keun Sejin rose unsteadily from his seat. I pulled out my chair and stood, too.
I couldn’t tell amid the applause exactly what was happening. Cha Yoo-jin patted my shoulder and led me onto the stage.
I bumped shoulders with Seon Ah-hyun.
We stood on stage. Flower bouquets and the trophy passed between us.
“Thank you.”
His voice cracked briefly. Ryu Cheong-woo removed the mic, then spoke calmly again:
“We are... truly honored to receive this undeserved award. Not only this year but every day since our debut, our members have worked tirelessly.”
Cheong-woo thanked fans, staff, even parents one by one. I’d heard their practice echoes in the dorms, and I listened without skimming.
They deserved this.
And they felt worthy of it.
“...Thank you once again.”
As he finished, someone poked my back.
At first I thought it accidental, but the second poke left no doubt.
“...?”
What now?
“Mun-dae!”
It was Keun Sejin.
He pushed me forward. The others made space, clearing the center entirely.
“What the—”
I found myself shoved to the middle. The people around patted my shoulder. Confetti clung to my nose and fell.
A mic stood before me.
“...Well then.”
Obviously not to hog the final words—I smirked, picked up the mic, and faced the audience.
...My heart was pounding.
“Well, since I’ve got the mic, I should say something.”
And at that moment:
[Mission Clear!]
“...!”
A hologram appeared.
Since clearing the status ailment, it hadn’t appeared unless I activated it.
Then, one beat later, I realized what was happening.
“Ah.”
I understood.
As I expected, public perception had mattered.
This was... a prestigious grand prize granted by the public’s perception that TeSTAR deserved the top honor.
“Clearing it at the first awards show, too.”
I liked how this unfolded. I embraced the moment.
But the hologram didn’t end. It displayed text I hadn’t requested:
[Calculating reward...]
“...!”
Now?
The order was wrong.
“If I have to accept the reward to get it... damn it!”
I realized I’d misunderstood. This wasn’t the same system grant as clearing a status ailment.
So... there was no guarantee the same benefits would apply.
Same for confirming the reward.
“If it doesn’t ask me to press ‘receive reward’—”
Cold sweat dripped down my neck.
The flickering hologram shifted form:
[Reward Complete!]
Reward: Conversation with Park Mundae
Complete?
At that moment, my vision blurred.
“Mundae!”
Just like the first time I cleared a status ailment—back at the Debut Audition.
And then everything went dark.
Looking back, it was truly strange.
I, who never once performed in a talent show, had become someone who danced and sang before an audience.
“I originally....”
Why had I aimed to be an idol photographer?
Sure, for money—but then why record those who wouldn’t make money?
What pleasure did I gain from it....
Was it... vicarious satisfaction?
“Ugh.”
I opened my eyes.
A dark room.
I saw a familiar ceiling—but unfamiliar after so long. My old studio’s ceiling.
“...!!”
I sat up and felt my face. I touched glass.
No need to run to the bathroom mirror to confirm: this hair, these hands, these glasses....
My original body.
Not Park Mundae, but Ryu Geonwoo.
“......!”
I clenched my fist and bowed my head.
“Calm down.”
Then this situation.
“This is....”
I’d experienced something similar before.
“A daydream.”
Was this like the coma episode? Was I still dreaming....?
Then I heard:
[Um, hey!]
“...!”
What?
That strange resonance in my head—no, whether to call it hearing or something else.
[Um... hyung, why are you here....?]
I uttered a word:
“Who are you?”
[Wha—me?]
A trembling echo, like someone about to cry.
Then a smaller resonance:
[Pl-Park Mundae.]
“.......”
What the hell is going on?
