Seoul. Inside a quiet office.
“I’ll get straight to the point.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Bae Sejin sat across the table as calmly as he could.
‘It’s really... happening.’
It was his first project meeting in years.
He remembered acting in that strange virtual-world production, but despite its recentness, the experience felt distant, like a half-remembered dream.
Maybe that’s why he was so nervous, he thought, taking a quick, deep breath.
The person he’d been waiting for rushed in.
“Sejin’s here!”
“...Hello.”
The director held the documents—he’d been the one to offer the role.
He’d brought another person with him.
“Director, Producer.”
“Wow, Sejin has really grown.”
The producer, with his hearty laugh, sank into the sofa.
‘So it was him...!’
He’d directed the film where Sejin had played the kidnapped child.
His track record: a hit roughly every other project.
‘Good.’
This was worth pursuing.
Bae Sejin bowed his head in greeting, then sat back down.
“He really is the same kid. Still so composed.”
“Right? He still gives off that straight-A student vibe.”
‘Huh.’
Not quite.
Sejin, who thought he’d strayed more than a little since then, now faced the offer he’d been dreading.
With a flutter, the paperwork slid across the table, and the project was briefly explained.
‘Modern mystery horror....’
Based on a webtoon, it unfolded a slightly eerie, cold, contemporary Korean world.
As Sejin skimmed the synopsis, they continued kindly.
“This is a NetPlus original drama.”
“I see.”
So unless the production studio itself was tied to T1, it was independent financing.
That meant...
‘I can do this properly.’
A drama would take longer to shoot than a film, but by the time it wrapped, we could promote the next album.
While Sejin was working through this thought, the producer added hurriedly.
“But actually... we’ve already shot quite a bit.”
“...!”
Wait.
“...While casting me?”
Could it be a serialized season?
Maybe I appear in season two...
“Honestly, we tried out a rookie—he had promise. But that crazy guy filmed a video and made headlines. Said something about the region!”
“...Hmm.”
“Our Sejin’s spotless, right? But that rookie... ugh!”
The producer nearly foamed at the mouth complaining about kids these days only caring about YouTube, InHeart, TikTok.
The director quickly offered a sugar-bomb coffee and steered the conversation.
“So we completely cut his scenes... the schedule freed up, and your timing was perfect for a reunion.”
“Oh... thank you.”
“Nah. I just thought this connection was meant to be!”
“Truly, thank you Director.”
“Ha, Sejin saying yes is why we’re doing this~”
The producer and director grinned. Sejin’s nerves sharpened.
“...So, am I taking the role that rookie was meant to play?”
“...! But it’s a substantial part!”
They rushed to assure him.
“I met so many people, held auditions everywhere, but no one fit the bill.”
So they’d persuaded investors to try this rookie first. NetPlus was generous, but even they asked why not use someone more known.
“It was such a great role!”
“And since the rookie had no promotional clout, no articles ran! No talk of replacements or anything.”
“Ah, understood.”
Sejin nodded, but the producer and director watched anxiously, worried Sejin felt like a stopgap.
But that wasn’t Sejin’s concern.
‘Shorter shoot means the release will come sooner than I thought.’
Seeing the result quickly wasn’t bad.
But one thing vanished.
‘Album promotion becomes awkward.’
NetPlus drops all pre-season episodes at once, at most in two batches.
That editing window delays the premiere slightly.
Meaning this drama will release right at the tail end of our album promotion.
‘In a month or two maybe.’
It wouldn’t help album promotion at all.
“......”
Sejin managed his expression, asking himself:
Could they not have known?
His members knew idol schedules far better than he did.
They’d let him bury uncertain film release timing under “album promotion”...
‘They were just supporting me.’
Regardless of whether it helped the group, they did it for him.
Sejin drew in a steadying breath.
“Well, then I’ll take a look at the role first.”
“Sure, sure!”
“Wow, you sound just like you did when you were tiny.”
Sejin slid the script to the side and picked up the neat new draft beneath it.
He flipped through it with combative focus.
‘I’ll do well.’
No matter the role, he’d master it.
That would repay their support...
“......”
“How does it feel, Sejin?”
Repay.
“Well, idols often start with safe supporting roles... but Sejin—you shouldn’t be treated on that same path with your skills!”
“......”
“Imagine this psycho character—a powerful imprint of your acting image. Wouldn’t that be amazing?”
“Um—”
Cold sweat began to bead on Sejin’s forehead.
Meanwhile, TeSTAR kicked off their first broadcast music show and planned a three-week album promotion.
Fans began sensing a shift.
“They’re not on DingDongDang karaoke? Didn’t they promise to be on the next comeback?”
“Wow so creepy—those variety accounts that were begging to book them suddenly silent lol”
“Their variety... SBC MBS... hmm...”
Everyone reached a similar conclusion.
“T1 is so T1.”
“Ah, damn lol, as expected.”
“Seriously petty—was blocking MusicBomb not enough?”
“They must hate TeSTAR so much they want to kill them and steal fans, now I’m done with their survival show.”
T1’s actions were obviously malicious, and fans filled social media with curses—prime viral content.
[TeSTAR suffers economic retaliation from their original broadcaster]
[TeSTAR seems to be cut off by T1]
The stories neatly assembled fan reactions and TeSTAR’s released schedule boiled down to one fact:
‘TeSTAR is marked by T1! It’s not just a line in the sand—they’re completely split!’
From the moment news of T1 executives’ arrests broke, what Park Mundae had sensed spread to the public as rumor.
“Whoa....”
“Insane lol”
A group’s image could be damaged if a celebrity is “dropped” by a platform—loss of hype, fewer appearances, a fading aura.
But it didn’t go that far.
“They must be sharpening their claws watching T1’s album and digital chart performance lol”
“Free life for TeSTAR congrats congrats”
“Oh, not T-Net’s serfs anymore”
“Is this speculation? Maybe TeSTAR’s just tired of them and refuses to appear”
TeSTAR’s results were strong.
In entertainment, status attacks are defended by numbers and buzz, and Park Mundae trusted that logic.
No special defense was needed here.
“Pff big company drops them... won’t last long either”
“That’s pathetic clickbait”
“Dude TeSTAR’s first-week sales already hit 1.7 million career-high, what do you think lol”
“Lmao”
“Seems like being dropped was a huge gain!”
“Maybe the big company being dropped by TeSTAR is what won’t last, huh? 🤔”
Netizens immersed more in TeSTAR’s story—it was more fun!
What could be more satisfying than leaving your job and succeeding even more?
But not every fan enjoyed that reaction.
“They’re only acting for their own chart points... it’s pure numbers game... 😢”
“The reality is they have half the usual appearances. Imagine how stressed they are... ugh.”
Being cut off by a platform isn’t trivial.
“I wondered why they included a game on the album... it’s because they can’t appear much on TV, so they filled content this way 😭”
“😭😭😭”
“I’ll buy another copy, damn, tears.”
When individual member schedules began to be announced, most fans understood.
“Yeah guys, good job...”
“It’s the first time TeSTAR appear so much solo... but other groups do this too.”
“I’ll watch them all, fighting!”
They even openly posted on W-App:
“This time we want to show ourselves across more schedules... we each filmed solo segments.”
“Right.”
“We’re working hard this promotion~ everyone!”
They danced around it softly, but everyone knew it meant “we wanted solo activities this time.”
They filled the airtime they couldn’t use as a group.
“See? Let’s enjoy it—and watching them hanging out solo will be great 😭”
Group fans felt hurt; solo fans cried victory.
Then news broke about Bae Sejin himself:
[TeSTAR’s Bae Sejin Returns in NetPlus’s ‘Doll Hunter,’ the Comeback of a Child Actor with Ten Million Views]
“????”
Sejin, who hadn’t done any solo variety or events, finally revealed a schedule.
“Insane.”
“It’s time for him to act lol”
“I’m so excited bbb”
“I’ve been waiting years for this adaptation—how’s his acting?”
“Crazy good.”
“He was an actor first anyway.”
Public reaction was favorable—no acting controversies for a good-looking performer.
Thanks to the groundwork, TeSTAR fans were cautiously supportive.
“Sejin’s better at acting than variety anyway.”
“Aww I wanted to see our hamster awkwardly on variety shows too lol”
“😭😭 Go TeSTAR!”
Acting was a proper solo activity.
Predatory fans ready to pounce at any slip in group activities would be watching.
“Sejin, even if you’re tired today, watch this.”
“Got it.”
So TeSTAR supported each other closely in live shows and schedules, giving their all.
But one member had another worry.
‘The time is almost here.’
Park Mundae’s debut anniversary was days away—late June already.
Summer weather was closing in.
And he knew something peculiar about “this summer.”
Sure enough, one day he checked the news repeatedly.
[T-Holic Junior Group Arrives... WonderHall Debuts Boy Group ĭter]
An article had appeared.
‘As expected.’
Park Mundae immediately brought up his status window to confirm his “hint.”
[WonderHall’s Newcomer (B)]
– 202X. This summer, WonderHall will finally debut a new boy group.
A large-scale, 20-billion-won, three-year project whose bold concept drew internal excitement.
The hint was correct.
‘Worth using.’
And note—this hint was gold-level B. Very high.
More detail usually means a higher grade, but that wasn’t all.
It was that useful.
Park Mundae thought,
‘This rookie’s bound to blow up.’
Community comment heat was already strong.
“Wow finally T-Holic juniors.”
“WonderHall picks only friendly faces from tofu to chill guys. Love it—hope they keep that vibe.”
“Curious if they’ll be as big as T-Holic.”
“But the game’s ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) changed—might be tough.”
“Still, it’s WonderHall so it could work lol”
Fans still longed for T-Holic’s easygoing, cool senior vibe.
No matter how popular TeSTAR’s individual members were, that was built on variety and songs, not a concept.
Park Mundae judged coolly.
‘I need to monitor this consistently.’
But the next week...
When their debut teaser dropped:
“??????”
“Insane.”
“This is T-Holic juniors...?”
“lolololol I never imagined.”
Even Park Mundae hadn’t foreseen this reaction.
“...!”
The juniors of the nation’s idol, T-Holic, had chosen a fully conceptual route—just like TeSTAR.
