Jeju Island.
The light of the campfire cast a red glow on the faces of eight girls.
The wooden logs crackled and surrounding insects hummed, stirring something tender in their hearts.
“I still can’t believe we’re actually debuting,” someone said quietly.
Another continued. “Do you think people will like us?”
“We’ll get fans and… stuff.”
“Aaah! Fans, she said!”
“What? What about it? We’ll definitely get fans! If we don’t… that’s a problem.”
Cameras surrounded them to capture every moment.
Japanese members, Chinese members, and Korean members.
The staff couldn’t help but smile at the fresh-faced nervousness of girls on the verge of debut.
“The leader should say something, shouldn’t she?”
Everyone turned their mischievous gazes on Hyun-hee.
“W-Why do you keep calling me the leader? She’s the leader, not me.”
Hyun-hee’s flustered protest sent the whole group into laughter.
“You’re the one who pushes us so hard during practice.”
“Well… I learned a lot, so…”
It was a conversation they had countless times before.
Hyun-hee had taken everything she learned with Jin-ah and applied it to their group rehearsals.
The members continued talking as they stared into the campfire.
“Honestly, without Hyun-hee, there’s no way we’d be this detailed about things.”
“I think those senior idols are really incredible. When do you think we’ll get to their level?”
“If we take Hyun-hee’s word for it, she says they’re never satisfied. Jin-ah sunbae, too.”
Among the members, more than half of them had trained alongside the Blue Sherbet members at some point.
Another girl gazed into the campfire and murmured. “Let’s… reach for the sky, too. Let’s not become satisfied so easily. Like them.”
Eight in You was HS Entertainment’s newly launched eight-member girl group.
Under Director Park’s aggressive push, they were given everything a debuting idol group could ask for.
The best song. The best concept. The best choreography. The best promotion.
In an industry that birthed countless idol groups every year, a freshly paved highway stretched out before them.
***
“This is insane.” Manager Jang let out a disbelieving laugh, eyes on his computer screen.
Nobody else was in the office but me.
Therefore, it was a remark directed at me.
“What is?”
“M&K. You know them. Min-seok and Kid? This is their first collab but the concept trailer is to die for. Photo teasers, video teasers, MV teasers. They’re dropping all at once. Jacket making-ofs, MV making-ofs, commentary, special clips. It’s just one after another, and they haven’t even started promotions.”
Right. That news. Of course I knew.
Golden Tree’s fans and Kid’s fandom had signed a temporary alliance, and their fan leaders were supposedly holding a summit too.
The reason all this was happening was to rally as much of the fan’s interest as possible.
And apparently it was going well.
“Manager Jang, haven’t they been doing a ton of livestreams too?”
“Let me check… Hmm. Not that many, actually. But… the view counts on each video are pretty out there.”
Well, both sides did have massive global fanbases.
It couldn’t be helped that there was a massive gap between their numbers and other artists’ numbers.
The results already spoke for itself: search engine popularity, community boards, and social media. There was an endless flood of posts, articles, and comments.
“At least the charts are still playing fair.”
“Hm? I don’t think so. It should’ve started today.”
At my words, Manager Jang scrambled to check the streaming charts.
His jaw dropped and a hollow laugh escaped him.
“Well, look at that. It already started.”
Before promotions even began, the fans were already busy. They were syncing their efforts, warming up, and signaling to the public that the comeback was here.
They did this by streaming both artists’ previous title tracks.
Kid and Golden Tree effortlessly claimed top spots on the charts.
Of course, it was all thanks to the two massive fandoms joining forces.
“The album review section is probably a war zone right now.”
“They’ll be fighting in there for hours, I bet.” Manager Jang shook his head slowly.
“That Kid. When he was ours, he was the most reliable person in the world. But thinking of him as competition just sends a chill down my spine.”
I let out a small laugh.
“Still, one Golden Tree member is on our side. Hyun-woo.”
Beyond Hyun-woo, top-tier artists like the R&B king Jung-ho Yoon and Crescendo had all participated in Yumi’s album.
Every recording was the best in quality!
It was the creation of a genuine masterpiece.
Manager Jang clicked his tongue. “Even with Hyun-woo and the others, it’s still Yumi’s album. Those artists aren’t the ones promoting, right? Hyun-woo isn’t doing music shows or performing on stage. They’ll help with the popularity, sure, but M&K is going to pull way more attention. What we have is participation. What they have is a collaboration.”
He was right.
That was why we hadn’t gone heavy on teasers from the start.
Out of sixteen brilliant tracks, we only shot music videos for the two title songs.
A double title was what it was.
I had wanted to do all sixteen, but I guess that wasn’t allowed.
“And the timing is garbage, too. Of all the times for this to overlap with Yumi’s promotions. You think Director Park planned this to screw us over?”
Manager Jang narrowed his eyes with what I would call reasonable suspicion.
“Manager Jang, whether Director Park timed this or not doesn’t matter. We can’t adjust our schedule. This window is the best we’ve got.”
We calculated the release date to align with the <Yumi’s F.M.P.> broadcast schedule. The goal was a date where the most number of people wouldn’t have to wait too long, and where anticipation would be at just the right level for them to listen in a good mood.
Making them wait too long would fade their interest. Release too early and the anticipation wouldn’t be strong enough.
“There’s nothing we can do but go at our own pace. First place on the charts might be tough, but we can still burn ourselves into the public’s memory.”
Manager Jang smiled, a little bitter. “Yeah. That’s enough.”
At this time, we were under the wrong impression. A foolish one.
***
-It’s the monster rookies who debuted two weeks ago and making waves in the music scene.
-Yes, they’ve been incredibly hot lately, haven’t they?
-It’s Eight in You!
After broadcasting a reality show about the group, they had already appeared on popular and high-rated variety shows even before their debut.
It was the cute and pretty girls, Eight in You.
People began calling them the monster rookie group, as they continued growing at a pace that lived up to the title.
“They’re good. That one’s really improved her dancing.”
At Jin-ah’s comment, Yoon-jung nodded.
“She’s getting the little details right, too. But she still a little rough. She was good at rapping, right?”
The members were watching the music show from their dorm.
Eight in You’s performance went for a fresh and cutesy concept with dainty, easy-to-follow choreography.
The song itself was catchy and simple and easy to swallow. They had the full trifecta for a rookie girl group trying to build popularity.
They hadn’t done it this way before my regression.
‘They weren’t pushed this hard either. And it wasn’t a song like this.’
Even so, they were popular.
That was the case for Seven in You, without Hyun-hee Lee.
As a girl group from a major agency like HS Entertainment, the spotlight naturally fell on them. They grew steadily and slowly, until one day something clicked and they blew up.
‘They’re better this time around.’
Their performance had a sharper edge than it had in the original timeline.
‘I changed the future.’
Girls who were supposed to become the nation’s most popular girl group slowly over time started growing at an accelerated pace.
‘But then again… they only became that popular because our girls failed.’
The future I changed wasn’t just theirs.
In a few hours, a new song would drop.
It was, of course, the acoustic track that Yumi and Hae-yeol had made together. ‘Like a Star.’
And before releasing the full album, Yumi would kick off her first solo promotions with this single.
***
“You’ve been up since dawn getting ready. Do you feel tired? It’s like that the first time. Give it a couple weeks and your body naturally adjusts.”
“Weirdly enough, I’m not tired at all.”
“Hahaha! That’s probably your nerves talking.”
“Is it?” She grinned.
Yumi had filmed a solo variety show that aired on public broadcast, and still here she was, nervous and excited for her first music show.
It was only natural.
She wasn’t used to being on TV. She was a singer. One who had been waiting for this moment for a long time.
We stopped by the salon at dawn and headed to the music show’s studio for the pre-recording.
Current time: 4 AM.
The sky was steeped in deep blue.
Fans waited outside the studio. Beside them, people clustered in the 24-hour café and the nearby shops.
Scattered among them were foreigners and Muslim women in hijabs.
They were either today’s live audience or people who came just to catch a glimpse on their way to work.
Our van passed them and pulled into the parking lot behind the building.
A senior idol, who was smoking by the back entrance, felt his eyes widen upon seeing us.
“Hello, I’m Yumi from Blue Sherbet.”
He stubbed out his half-finished cigarette without hesitation and made his way toward Yumi with a broad smile.
The man kept a polite three steps of distance, so the smoke wouldn’t reach her.
He greeted her warmly. “Hello. You’re doing the music show today, right? I listened to ‘Like a Star’ as soon as it came out. It’s really great.”
“Oh. Thank you so much, sunbae!”
“Good luck on the show today! I’ll be rooting for you!”
Through the back entrance and inside, a woman emerging from the bathroom spotted Yumi and stopped dead in her tracks.
Then she scurried into the first-floor common waiting room.
We climbed the stairs, and Yumi greeted every single person she passed.
“Oh. Hello.”
“Yes! Hello.”
“Congrats on your first show.”
Staff greeted her back.
Not everyone was amicable, but still. What a difference.
Normally, most idols would get a passing glance at best, maybe a brief nod. The fact that people were actually speaking to her meant they recognized her. That they acknowledged her.
Who knew? Maybe some of those staff members who greeted her off-handedly were loyal viewers of her variety show.
That was how broadcast stations worked.
There was an unspoken rule about hiding your excitement around celebrities you liked. If you let it slip that you were a fan, you risked getting laughed at by your colleagues.
Third floor. The door to Yumi’s assigned dressing room had her name on it alongside a senior idol group’s name.
Getting a solo dressing room required seniority.
Nothing to be done about that.
Being assigned a shared room up here instead of the first-floor common area was already the production team doing their best for her first show.
“Hello, I’m Yumi from Blue Sherbet.”
Magic Stage was TKK Entertainment’s fourth-year girl group.
One sat up from where she was lying down and another paused mid-makeup before their steps made their way toward Yumi.
“Hi! I really liked ‘Like a Star’. This is your first music show, right?”
“Yes, it’s my first time. I really love your music too, sunbae.”
The corners of their mouths twitched upward.
“Really?!”
“Yes, of course! Even as a trainee, I practiced to your songs a lot. I listened to your new one as soon as it dropped, too.”
Most juniors said things like this to their seniors.
Even if it was true, it was the kind of thing everyone said.
But looking at their expressions, it seemed she was able to wiggle into their hearts.
“Do you like jelly?”
Yumi’s head whipped around in a flash.
One of the seniors held out a bag of jelly as Yumi padded over and bowed at the waist.
“Thank you very much!”
“Have you tried this?”
“Yes. It’s one of my favorites.”
“Sit over here.”
The natural lure: jelly.
Yumi nestled between them on the sofa and began chattering away.
Laughter trumpeted from the group.
‘Yeah, this is why it’s better to meet people after you make it.’
Not to mention, she was a composer. She was someone who might send opportunities their way.
Even if the kindness was calculated, it was far better than nothing.
***
<Yumi’s F.M.P.> had already hit the ten percent mark in viewership ratings.
The show ran past its planned runtime, and continued to air with no confirmed end date.
Though, it would probably wrap after we see the public’s response to the album release.
At this point, it was essentially a solo reality show for Yumi on public broadcast.
“We could’ve started filming earlier, you know.” PD Park sounded mildly aggrieved.
I smiled faintly and answered. “But we did get the footage of her going up on stage during the live show, didn’t we?”
The performers who already filmed the pre-recording would briefly stand on stage for the fans who came for the live show.
It was a quick up, quick down. A minute, two at most.
“At least we salvaged that much.”
I deliberately kept the film crew from coming earlier.
Not only was another team sharing the dressing room with Yumi, but more importantly, I wanted her to be comfortable resting while waiting her turn.
The last thing she needed was cameras in her face and making her more nervous.
Her first music show should be as stress-free as possible.
“President Kang, did you see? There are tons of posts on social media about this.”
“Yes, I did. We should thank them properly later.”
The lineup of glittering, big‑name stars who worked with Yumi started posting photos of themselves on social media watching her very first music show performance.
It was their way of cheering her on.
And a way of promoting to their own fanbases.
Just then, performers filed onto the stage one after another.
The first-place candidates stood at the front, waiting for the announcement.
We looked at Yumi, who had earned her spot among the nominees for first place.
Her lips pressed tightly together as her whole body wound tight with nerves.
Her rigid shoulders and neck were visible even from where we stood.
“If she got first place– that would just make the scene perfect. But that might be hard since the monster rookies are here too, wouldn’t you say?”
PD Park asked the question with a sly expression. His face said he was sure she would get first place.
By ‘monster rookies,’ he probably meant Eight in You.
But if they were the monster rookies, what ‘kind’ of rookie would you call Yumi?
“You’re right that Eight in You is a tough opponent. They have a strong backing, and their fandom is growing fast. Since it’s Yumi’s first week doing music shows, she might fall a little short on some metrics.”
Obviously. I was just being modest here.
She debuted at number two on the streaming charts and was still sitting at number five a few days later.
A threat? Hardly.
“Haha! Well, President Kang, it looks like your prediction might be off yet again. You said the charts wouldn’t favor her, but the response has been amazing.”
One thing was certain.
Song quality aside, the show was doing exactly what it was supposed to.
That didn’t make it unfair.
Every bit of that ‘broadcast momentum’ was something Yumi had earned through her own ability.
Doing a solo variety show and receiving love from fans of every age; all of it was fruit she picked with her own hands.
“This week’s winner is… Congratulations! It’s Yumi Cho and her song ‘Like a Star.'”
That included winning first place by a long shot.
“We have to hear your thoughts! Ms. Yumi Cho?”
Yumi received the mic from the MC, who mechanically read his lines.
The hand holding the mic trembled visibly.
Her eyes, which should have been facing the camera, were turned toward us instead.
As she looked at me, tears pooled in her eyes.
“Pre… President Kang. First place… I… *sniff*.”
Oh, Yumi.
It’s okay to cry, but just try finishing your sentence first.
Jin-ah was going to give her so much grief for this.
“Thank you… truly.”
First place on the music show.
It was worth celebrating, sure, but–
‘We haven’t pulled out the big guns yet.’
Yumi was just getting started.
—