*I ended up featuring on Cheongryeo’s stage on the broadcast program Nice to Meet You, and the episode was scheduled without delay.
And then, the day of the live broadcast.
Naturally, they aired not the stage itself at first, but the part introducing the singers preparing for it.
[RomJ: “I’ve been interested in pansori for a long time, so....”]
[MC: “Oh! It’s the first time someone interested in pansori appears on this show. Let’s see if the master of pansori actually showed up!”]
They had us introduce ourselves, chat about our genre interests, and then form the collaboration team. I sat through almost all of that segment.
Finally, at the end, the other performer who would join me on stage appeared.
[Who is this Inyeong stepping out of the car...?]
[Cheongryeo: “Hello.”]
They added artificial cheering in the background and put glowing lightstick effects all around. Then they slapped on massive captions:
[“This man... is handsome!”]
“.......”
I’d believe the caption creator came in from a time machine ten years ago. ‘If this stage was bad, the show would have tanked already,’ I thought with a sour face.
I got up from my seat.
“MoonDae, where are you going?”
“I’m grabbing something to drink.”
By the way, I wasn’t the only one monitoring. It just so happened to be our group’s weekly training camp day—perfect timing during our tour while preparing the new album. We’d rented a suite and gathered everyone there. I was watching the show on my phone.
So through that process, everyone sat down to watch this old-fashioned program together.
[KPOP’s King, VTIC!]
[Leader Cheongryeo]
“...They’re really hyping each other up.”
“Right.”
If you’re going to watch with such unhappy expressions, why even turn on the TV? ‘Well, I thought similarly myself,’ I admitted internally. No one protested as the show went on. Cheongryeo’s dazzling career was introduced, and finally she spoke about her “desired collaboration genre.”
Of course, normally it’s all scripted—producers line up masters by popularity and experience, then match them. This time, however, she truly chose a person from the genre she wanted. She personally requested this collaboration on the show.
[Cheongryeo: {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} “I’d like to collaborate... with an idol.”]
[!!!!]
[MC: “Cheongryeo, remember that you yourself are an idol...?”]
[Cheongryeo: “Of course. (laughs) But I’ve had plenty of chances to perform with artists from other fields, yet I’ve almost never done it with another idol.”]
The MC pretended to be flustered:
[MC: “Then... a female idol?”]
[Cheongryeo: “No, of course not. I’d like to do it with a male idol in the same position as me.”]
Cheongryeo brushed off the question with a smile and shifted the focus.
[Cheongryeo: “Also, since the members aren’t here right now, doing the stage completely alone feels a bit lonely. That’s why.”]
You could hear VTIC fans cheering. ‘Her image-making is top-notch. She’s got the experience.’ I peeled my gaze away from the captions and headed back to the suite entrance’s mini-fridge.
Inside, I spotted a can of dark beer.
“.......”
I realized I hadn’t touched alcohol in years.
“.......”
Besides, there’s no concert tomorrow. ‘Maybe one can won’t hurt....’
“Park Mundae.”
“Yes?”
As expected, Bae Sejin had followed me to the entrance. Does he have some alcohol-sensing ability? I averted my eyes from the beer and grabbed a bottle of water.
‘Might as well drink cold water while monitoring the show,’ I thought. Then suddenly Sejin asked:
“Are you feeling bad or restless right now?”
“...? No.”
He wasn’t suggesting my condition tanked because I was prevented from drinking, right?
“Well... if it’s not that, then maybe having a can occasionally is... okay.”
“...?!”
Wait. ‘Is he serious?’ The guy who confiscated every drop of alcohol from our lodging?
Sejin continued, looking a bit embarrassed.
“I knew it was strange of me to meddle so much. I just thought alcohol’s a bad habit. But if you no longer have that habit, then my interference would be pointless.”
“......”
“Of course! Only if you’re sure you don’t drink for stress relief.”
I paused, bottle in hand, recalling...
‘Indeed... I haven’t had the urge to drink to relieve stress in a long time.’ I remembered how he’d kept me from the fridge so many times. And now I really didn’t want it for stress.
I chuckled and nodded.
“Yes.”
“All right.” Sejin nodded crisply, as if acknowledging a win. I felt oddly certified, like I’d completed some addiction-treatment program. ‘Thanks to him, I broke the cheap stress-relief crutch of alcohol.’
I admitted it to myself.
“You didn’t meddle for nothing. It helped.”
“Hmm, right.” He couldn’t hide his pride.
I reached into the fridge, grabbed a can of the familiar dark beer brand I used to drink years ago, and popped it open.
‘I see they changed the design.’
I took a swig. The carbonation stung. A cold barley beer slid down my throat. Refreshing.
I returned to my seat, beer in hand.
“If I think you’re overdoing it, I’ll stop you again.”
“Okay.”
I downed more beer. Sejin looked like he wanted to say something else, but he held his tongue.
‘Smart move.' I settled in as the show continued. On TV, RomJ was speaking:
[RomJ: “Choosing someone in the same genre... I respect your dedication to the idol path.”]
[Cheongryeo: “Haha, thank you. I’ve poured my life into being an idol.”]
[An idol who takes idols seriously: VTIC Cheongryeo! Who will collaborate with her?]
“....”
They laughed. I admired her knack for showmanship. I quietly drank my beer.
“Popcorn?”
Sure. Cha Yujin offered popcorn as a snack.
“Thanks.” I munched some.
“Eat more! It’s fine.”
It wasn’t fine—popcorn is sweet. How does he stay fresh eating that?
But Yujin, eyeing my bicep, exclaimed:
“Oh! You’ve got muscle.”
“Really?”
“What’d you do?”
“Nothing.”
The only variable is the training for the show.
I pointed at the screen.
“I guess it’s from practicing.”
“Oh.” Perfect timing—my intro was next.
[VTIC Cheongryeo’s Collaboration Artist!]
[???: “Hello.”]
My apprehensive face, annoyed voice and all, appeared on screen.
[Park Mundae: The main vocalist of TeSTAR, Park Mundae.]
[TeSTAR!]
They added flashy effects and introduced my career. Then Cheongryeo and I pretended surprise, shook hands, and began stage prep.
[Cheongryeo: “Nice to see you like this. I’ve been looking forward to it.”]
[Park Mundae: “Yes, senior. Please treat me well.”]
[Cheongryeo: “Haha, let’s just be comfortable. Right?”]
[Park Mundae: “Please speak informally.”]
[A friendship already existed...?]
It looked cheesy, but warm. Netizens, meanwhile, were screaming in the comments: “Epic”, “Unreal”, “Can’t wait till these kids get back from the military...” I shrugged.
It was part of the show’s emotional playbook targeting the older audience. Everyone uses it. But our contrasting color on that canvas made us stand out.
The 2000s pop aesthetic given a modern KPOP twist by Cheongryeo and me—it popped.
If it bombed, it’d clash, but her masterful production carried it. She needed someone who’d work insanely hard at her direction—and someone from outside the military status quo.
Plus it boosted her agency’s PR, as admitted before. I noticed LeTi’s viral hype starting already:
I knew tomorrow there’d be articles proclaiming “TeSTAR joins LeTi,” easing fans into seeing our future platform moves. A long-term plan to boost the label’s standing.
‘I got some benefit, too.’ I told myself.
“Hey, was it fun for you...?” Sun Ahyun asked.
I shrugged.
“It was worth it.”
“It’s good experience, yeah.”
Sun Ahyun smiled.
“Oh! If you want to learn more of that choreography... I can teach you.”
I hesitated.
“Thanks. Maybe someday.”
For now, I’d take the offer on faith. Improving dance stats now was low-efficiency—other dancers outshine me there. Better to max out my core vocal stats.
Maybe someday, if I ever hit an EX level on vocals... like Yujin’s charisma stat back in the Waterbomb days.
I remembered Yujin tearing up the stage then. He munched popcorn, watching Waterbomb performances on his phone at night in the dorm’s lounge.
“You okay?” I’d scowled when I caught him.
‘He’s good on his own.’ I thought.
Back to the show:
[Cheongryeo: “He picked up the choreography fast—it’s going smoothly.”]
“Is that really why?” I asked.
“Don’t be fooled. He practiced seven hours a day.”
“Whoa.”
[Park Mundae: “Please anticipate... the stage.”]
[Instinctive idol charm??]
“Hah!”
They even kept my flub for natural effect. As the performance began:
[Now presenting!]
“Wait, is he coming out now?”
“Yeah.”
We watched intently. But when the stage ended:
“......”
Comments:
Everyone was stunned.
“Park Mundae, that’s why you practiced so hard...”
“Yeah.”
I realized Cheongryeo’s tactic: the refined elegance stood out.
They targeted mature viewers with that classic formula, but our bold color burst amid the usual gray—unstoppable.
And she chose me because I’d grind for her vision, plus boost her agency’s narrative.
Sipping my beer, I thought I could pop another can in celebration—but something came first:
Setting the stage.
The rookie group After employing TeSTAR as a benchmark—they needed outshining TeSTAR. Strengthening the company’s finances also.
I switched my phone app and smirked at this morning’s message:
[Spacer Kwon Heeseung: “Hyung, our practice is over lol”]
Spacer’s comeback prep was done.
The proxy war begins.
