Chapter 3

If I don't debut, I'll get a deadly disease 003

At the broadcasting station, which I almost stumbled into, nothing much happened. It was just a light interview in front of the camera.

There wasn't even a request to dance, even if just for formality. Of course, there was no advice to try a dance academy either.

It was also proof that the role they expected from me was firmly established.

Well, such things don't really matter. What's important is that my name is on the list of participants.

But there was an unexpected element.

The first recording date was much closer than I had anticipated.

"...In ten days?"

"That's right. Mr. Park, you just made it in at the last minute. Usually, spots don't open up, but you were really lucky~ They chose you because Mr. Park is so good."

He packages the term 'fill-in' so well. I thought to myself, a bit flustered but also indifferent.

It doesn't cost anything to speak more politely, so he could have been a bit more gentle.

Of course, once the lid is opened and it turns out to be useless, he'll change his attitude as if nothing happened.

There's probably no field where people cut ties as quickly as this one.

Moreover, telling a civilian to prepare for a recording and evaluation song in just ten days, without any advice, is not a proper request.

He talks as if it's no big deal, but if I were a participant with an agency, the company might have protested.

They probably just want me to mess up so badly that I get edited out.

But I had anticipated this.

"...Yes, thank you."

I nodded slightly, pretending not to notice anything, but a bit tense about the approaching recording date.

The writer's satisfied expression flashed across his face.

"We're the ones who should be grateful~ I'll contact you with the details later."

It was a clear dismissal. As I left the broadcasting station without any hesitation, I planned out the next ten days.

With such a short preparation time, I would have to take more extreme measures than I had planned.

* * *

The first recording day arrived after those busy ten days.

As is typical in survival programs, the first step was individual evaluations of the participants.

The first round of evaluations.

Anyone who has watched an idol survival show before can guess that the impression formed at this stage often lasts until the end of the program.

So, for a participant without any standout qualities, it's worst to just blend in.

It's better to completely fail and become a laughingstock, as that can lead to a growth narrative depending on how the editing goes.

But if you don't stand out and get edited out, you're really in trouble.

Of course, I'm not saying I'm aiming to be the audience's target for criticism.

"Do you remember your number? You'll be called by your number. When you're called, please enter this corridor~"

The recording started with the artificial scene of participants walking one by one through the set corridor.

It's probably for the teaser, but they've already spent over two hours filming a 40-second clip.

That's because there are 77 participants.

'They're all just kids.'

I glanced around the makeshift waiting area on the set and felt a bit of my enthusiasm wane.

No matter how much I tell myself it's a reset and a regression, it feels embarrassing to be among these kids aspiring to be idols.

"Hi there."

One of the kids who was chatting around came up to me.

I don't know if he's just excited or trying to make connections.

The important thing is that he looks like a middle schooler.

I'm making social connections with a middle schooler at my age...

"Did you apply alone?"

"Yes."

"Wow, me too. Oh, by the way, how old are you...?"

"...I'm twenty."

It felt strange to lie about my age, but surprisingly, it felt good.

"Do you have an agency?"

"No."

"Ah, that's right! Usually, those with agencies come out to participate. Which agency were you with...?"

"I've never been with one."

"Ah... I see."

The middle schooler immediately lost interest.

He finished the conversation and moved on to talk to someone else.

He seemed like the type who would succeed, already understanding the social dynamics.

Of course, he needs to hide that attitude from the camera, but that's his own responsibility.

Anyway, it's a brutal world if middle schoolers are already this savvy.

I started to doubt if I had made a ridiculous decision by getting involved in this unrealistic situation. But it was too late.

"The set is moving!"

The main broadcast recording finally began.

I followed the group of middle and high school students moving like meerkats.

I waited for my turn next to the main stage where the first evaluations were taking place.

I was called up around the middle of the first round.

* * *

"Participant Lee Sejin B... is in 15th place! Please take your seat."

"Thank you!"

One of the participants being evaluated bowed in response to the MC's announcement.

He was one of the four participants from the same agency being evaluated together.

He was one of the better ones, but the production team wasn't particularly pleased.

'He needs to be more extreme.'

Ryu Seolim, the writer, frowned as she twirled her pen.

Season 3 had less investment than the previous seasons. It was natural, given that Season 2 had failed and this was a barely revived season.

With a ridiculous subtitle like 'Reboot,' the production team had clenched their teeth and prepared the show to erase the shadow of Season 2.

However, there were aspects that couldn't be hidden no matter how much they tried to cover them up with connections and planning.

One of these was the talent pool.

Many of the adequately trained candidates had been poached by other audition shows.

To fill the 77 spots, they had to include candidates who looked good on the surface, increasing the ratio of empty shells.

With too many poor performers, it was hard to create an entertaining show no matter how much they tried to edit.

In Korean audition shows, it was almost impossible to promote someone without talent. Any attempt to package someone with no skills would result in a backlash.

The show would be labeled 'boring' or 'deceptive' rather than generating hate with a twist.

They had managed to fill the top-tier spots with potential debut candidates, but running the show without any dark horses was a significant challenge.

'This next one too.'

The participant being evaluated this time was a complete newbie added just ten days before the first recording.

They had hastily replaced a participant who had been caught driving under the influence, so there wasn't much expectation.

'What was his name...? He'll say it when he comes up, I guess.'

The participant had a decent voice and a good face, and a story that could be used if needed.

This was enough to meet the lowered standards in their rush.

However, even with these advantages, he was only slightly better than the fill-ins.

'Well... he could be useful for comparison.'

The judges were flipping through his file, which had no special points other than his background, and chatting with uninterested expressions.

She also had a similar thought.

'Yeah, just be really bad. At least draw some attention.'

A few mediocre performers could add variety to the show, following the adage that ridicule is a form of attention.

The chances were high that a civilian preparing a performance alone in just ten days would be hilariously bad.

She watched the stage with a faint hope.

"The next participant, please come to the stage!"

The civilian participant was just stepping onto the stage.

Fortunately, he looked better than before, having found his groove.

The problem was his dull, almost melancholic demeanor.

She had thought it was due to his background, but he was acting the same even in front of all the cameras.

She had seen many such scenes while working on other shoots, but the writer was puzzled.

'...Is he the type who doesn't show nervousness?'

It didn't really matter. If he performed poorly, they could portray him as arrogant.

The writer thought hard.

Meanwhile, Park Munda, who had just stepped onto the stage, was listening to the MC.

"Please, participant, introduce yourself."

"...My name is Park Munda. Nice to meet you."

He bowed slightly. A small laugh and a snicker came from the judges' panel.

"Is that all?"

A male judge, holding a microphone, asked with a mocking tone.

It was a negative implication, suggesting that he hadn't said enough, but Park Munda nodded seriously.

"Yes, I have no notable experience to introduce."

The judges burst into laughter.

"Phew, what a unique guy!"

"Interesting~"

A few of them whispered to each other, which was clearly picked up by the microphones.

"Ah, I see. Your application is really blank."

"Indeed."

It was time for the inevitable question: "Why did you come here?"

But the judges seemed to think it would be more impactful to ask after the performance, so they all hid their smiles.

The production team thought, 'Maybe we'll get some usable footage.'

"Let's see your performance."

"Yes."

With a mix of malicious curiosity, the participant took the microphone from the staff.

Soon, the intro music began.

And everyone was taken aback.

This song here?