Chapter 86

“I’m Park Jonghyeok, the CEO’s secretary.”

Even the person who had come in with Kwon Taeyoung was the management chief of K-Dom’s Division Five.

“I’ve been watching Gowon and Baek Hanje’s performances with great interest. You’re both on the younger side among the audition participants, so I was impressed by how solid your skills are despite that, enough to rank so highly.”

“I see....”

“K-Dom Five is this kind of company.”

Kwon Taeyoung turned the tablet around and showed us the screen.

“.......”

...Since this world was made by roughly copying reality, {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} I guess implementing anything complicated outside of <Debut Chart! 100> was impossible.

The screen was blank. Even Kwon Taeyoung’s additional explanation bounced right out of my head.

Still, I could tell that, according to the setting, he was a fairly successful businessman.

“So, based on the image you showed during the D-Day competition stage, we’d like the two of you to become advertising models for the winter season.”

Sponsorship explanation or whatever, my eyes stayed fixed on Kwon Taeyoung.

Even in a world overflowing with plagiarism and fabrication, the image of a self-made startup CEO who personally ran around getting things done suited Kwon Taeyoung extremely well.

If Kwon Taeyoung had shown up as some third-generation chaebol heir born with a silver spoon, I would’ve called it a continuity error.

“Baek Hanje, do you have a question?”

Noticing my stare, Kwon Taeyoung asked.

“Yes, I do.”

“Go ahead.”

“Who did you vote for?”

“...Excuse me?”

“On Debut Chart. They’re taking votes through the app. Which trainee did you vote for?”

Kwon Taeyoung’s smooth explanation abruptly stopped.

“I haven’t voted....”

“Gasp. You’re an investor and you haven’t even voted? Understanding the market is the most basic thing there is.”

Kwon Taeyoung’s expression turned uncomfortable, as if he were facing an ill-mannered child.

“I’ll do it soon.”

“No. You can vote once a day. You need to start today so you can cast even one more vote.”

“......”

“Hurry up.”

Kwon Taeyoung eventually pulled his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket. Then, apparently getting stuck on something, he frowned.

“Good grief, at this rate you’ll vote next season.”

“......”

Kwon Taeyoung let out a quiet sigh and held the screen out to me.

“Where do I go from here?”

“Ahh. From the main page, tap here, then sign up. And if you buy a package, you can cast more votes.”

“...You can buy votes with money?”

“It’s democracy collapsing before our very eyes.”

“......”

After tapping around the screen and opening the voting page for him, profiles of all one hundred trainees appeared in a long list.

Kwon Taeyoung took the phone back and scrolled through them with an analytical gaze.

“Who are you voting for?”

“No matter how much democracy has collapsed, we should at least uphold the principle of the secret ballot.”

He angled the screen just enough to keep it out of my sight.

“Wow, guess you’re not voting for me. That’s cruel.”

Even as I said it, I was certain.

Every member of Young Ace, including Kwon Taeyoung, loved my songs.

No matter how much this was a world without Young Ace, if it was based on reality, that much should still hold true.

...But seriously, why won’t this guy show me?

Considering he had picked me and Gowon for the sponsorship, his eye for talent seemed identical to Director Kwon’s in reality, at least.

I leaned this way and that, trying to sneak a look at the screen, when an arm tugged me backward.

“Don’t be rude.”

Come on, it’s fine. It’s Kwon Taeyoung. What does it matter?

I ignored him and tried to butt into Kwon Taeyoung’s business again, but the grip holding me became stronger.

“Stop acting like a child and stay still, Baek Hanje.”

“......?”

Did eighteen-year-old baby Gowon just say that to me...?

Was he actually... scolding me right now?

While I stood there stunned, Kwon Taeyoung finished voting and put his phone down.

“Now, let’s discuss the specifics.”

The scattered atmosphere snapped back into order in an instant. The contract Kwon Taeyoung proposed to Gowon and me was straightforward, without any strange clauses.

“Then I’ll leave copies of the contract with you, so take your time reviewing them, and next time—”

“Why bother? It’s fine.”

Even from a quick look, the contract heavily favored the trainees’ convenience.

Besides, Kwon Taeyoung screwing over a couple of seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds?

No matter how fabricated this world was, that was absolutely impossible.

I quickly scribbled my name in the signature box and held it out.

This time, Kwon Taeyoung let out a deep sigh loud enough for the entire conference room to hear. Then he folded the contract with a few sharp motions and slapped it back into my hand.

“Go back, read it at least three times, and discuss it with your guardian too. Then we’ll talk again. Understood?”

Then he placed one more thing on top of the contract.

“If you have any questions, feel free to contact me.”

It was his business card.

Kwon Taeyoung gave Gowon one as well.

After the meeting ended, Gowon and I slowly headed back toward the auditorium where the trainees were gathered.

“Hey, Baek Hanje.”

“Yeah?”

“...You....”

What? Why does he look like that?

“Ha. Right. You really are only seventeen....”

Huh?

“No matter what, you need to be a little more careful with how you act. I know you’re good too, but... skill aside, you’re still young.”

What the hell, you punk?

Even after you become an adult, I’m still going to call you a baby, you little shit.

I was so dumbfounded I couldn’t even speak, while Gowon rummaged through the pocket of his coat.

“Take these.”

“......?”

What he dumped into my hands was a whole pile of chocolate and individually wrapped snacks.

“You don’t need to diet at all, so don’t starve yourself until you collapse. Make sure you eat.”

“Uh, uh...?”

While I opened and closed my mouth with nothing to say, we reached the gathered trainees.

“Where’d you go?”

Our team, sitting near the entrance, turned toward me.

“A staff member said they had something to tell me.”

“Come on, hey. You can tell me. We’re stuck living in the same dorm anyway. I’m not going to go spreading it around.”

Looking around, I saw that, as expected, everyone’s attention was focused on the trainees who had been called away.

But it feels a little weird to tell them that we were separately discussing an advertising contract....

“Huh? I asked where you went. What, you can’t even tell your own teammates?”

Give it a rest, asshole.

I’d just come back from seeing Kwon Taeyoung. If you act like this right now, you’re only forcing me to make even more unfair comparisons.

“Hanje and I signed nondisclosure agreements.”

Suddenly, Gowon spoke from behind me.

“If you’re willing to pay the penalty fee for us, keep asking.”

With that, Gowon lightly patted my back and headed toward his own team.

...What was that? Was he trying to protect me just now?

It felt like watching a palm-sized kitten step in front of me and puff its fur up as much as possible.

Apparently impressed by the kitten’s spectacular attitude, the leader muttered something about what a fucking awful personality he had, but didn’t pry any further.

Still, thanks to Gowon, I managed to sit down without incident.

“Oh, Hanje. While you were gone, we had a meeting and divided up the parts.”

“......?”

The moment I heard that bullshit, something inside me went cold.

The results of the discussion held in my absence were as follows.

First, the one trainee in the dance position and the one trainee in the rap position each received appropriate parts.

The problem was the vocalists, who made up the majority of the team.

First, the twenty-three-year-old leader took the first chorus.

Then the twenty-one-year-old sycophant beside him took the second chorus.

My junior Nam Jeongho, who was now looking at me anxiously, got the bridge.

And thus, I ended up with the final chorus.

The interesting part was this.

“This should be fine as it is, right?”

During the final chorus, a powerful ad-lib ran underneath it.

Meaning that while I stood in the center, there would be someone screaming high notes behind me and cutting into the spotlight.

And that role belonged to the leader.

“This is a little....”

Wasn’t this going too far?

I hardened my expression and was about to protest when the leader spoke first.

“Hanje, since you’re in first place, you might think it’s only natural for you to get a lot of parts. But we’re desperate too....”

Huh?

“Still, we took you into consideration. We divided the time as fairly as possible among the vocalists, exactly twenty seconds each, and then gave you the ending on top of that.”

“......”

“So in practice, you’ll be standing in the center for twenty-three seconds.”

Sure.

Five of those seconds would be a lyricless outro, though.

The ending was nice.

But everyone knows that, given the nature of this program, they film individual ending shots for everyone anyway, don’t they?

Other than that, they had tossed me a few scattered, impactless sections and called them parts.

“......”

And they had decided all of this while I wasn’t there.

One camera was pointed stubbornly in my direction, clearly waiting to capture my reaction.

If I protested after they had already laid the groundwork by saying the distribution was fair, they would get a pretty entertaining scene out of it.

Of course, those guys could also face criticism for deciding everything however they pleased while leaving one person out.

But that kind of backlash was nothing compared to being branded as someone who had already developed celebrity disease and center obsession.

“What do you think? If you’re unhappy with anything, tell us now so we can work it out and get into practice.”

“......”

More importantly, by coincidence, I was by far the youngest person here.

Well, damn.

I never thought I’d end up missing the round and adorable Squirrel Class.

“Hmm... honestly, I’m not sure whether the parts were distributed well.”

“......! Ah, is there something you don’t like—”

“But I was absent during the meeting... and since you’re explaining it this thoroughly, I think you must’ve taken good care of me. I’ll trust you and go with it.”

Yeah. Let’s see how this goes, you bastard.