Why Kang Yeonhoo?
Of course, since he was also under WH Entertainment, he had every right to appear in the talent show. But Hi-Five was in the middle of active promotions.
It wasn’t like they came to this workshop because they wanted to. With everyone required to attend, they had no choice—but even to go so far as to join the talent show?
‘He couldn’t have had much time to prepare.’
My brows furrowed.
Definitely not an opponent to take lightly.
“Kang Yeonhoo, this way.”
Chae Jungwoo moved Kang Yeonhoo to the center of the stage where everyone’s eyes could focus on him and gave a bright smile.
“I’m thrilled to see Yeonhoo, one of my favorite juniors, here. Come to think of it, you also participated actively during Halloween, didn’t you?”
“...Hahaha.”
Like a hedgehog adoring its baby, Chae Jungwoo looked at him with eyes dripping with affection, as if he himself had raised him.
“Then, Yeonhoo, could you tell us why you came out here today?”
“Of course.”
Kang Yeonhoo smiled gently.
Just from that expression alone, one might be fooled into thinking he was confident and composed.
Though the tips of his ears were still red.
“Our maknae has been interested in composing lately.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and held three ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) fingers straight forward.
“I absolutely want to win 3rd place and get that MIDI controller.”
Immediately, the projector screen behind the stage lit up with an image of the 3rd-place prize: a famous brand’s MIDI controller.
Come to think of it, I had heard there was a composing member in Hi-Five.
And Kang Yeonhoo himself had shown some interest too.
“Ahhh~! A MIDI controller! Truly a great gift for anyone who makes music!”
But really, couldn’t he just buy the damn thing for his member instead of coming here?
While I was unsettled by the unexpected arrival of such a strong competitor, Kim Sunghyun whispered into my ear.
“Doesn’t it feel like Kang Yeonhoo sunbae will be really good? That prize looks amazing... wouldn’t Kang Ichae want it too?”
“Kang Ichae, why?”
That guy already decked out his studio with the latest top-line gear.
I didn’t know much about composing equipment myself, but I was certain. Kang Ichae would want some rare indie band CD you couldn’t buy with money more than some controller like that.
I turned my head away in irritation, only then noticing the others were nowhere in sight.
“Where are the kids?”
“The maknae’s over there getting food, but Sung Jiwon and Kang Ichae—I dunno. Haven’t seen them for a while.”
Shrugging, Kim Sunghyun poured wine into his empty glass, saying they were probably nearby and not to worry. My chest felt tight, so I downed mine in one gulp.
“Are you drinking soju or something?” Sunghyun scolded.
“Then, let’s begin our first talent show! Please welcome Kang Yeonhoo with Ria Purple’s—”
Alright, Yeonhoo. Let’s see just how good you are.
“—‘It’s Hard to Be Pretty!!’”
“Wooooooah!!”
The employees of WH Entertainment roared.
“What the hell is he doing?”
I grimaced in disgust as Sunghyun, halfway through pouring wine, froze and muttered,
“Wow, Yeonhoo sunbae really sharpened his knife for this.”
I’d expected him to pick a fresh and bright Hi-Five track, or maybe a medium-tempo ballad that suited his voice. But instead, he shockingly chose a girl idol group’s song.
Ria Purple’s “It’s Hard to Be Pretty.”
Back when Ria Purple was still obscure, this was the one song that managed to put their name out there. It had been an enormous hit among soldiers.
The lyrics, like the title, claimed being pretty made life exhausting—corny as hell, but...
‘This song is dangerous.’
I’d learned firsthand at the year-end stage.
When a boy idol sang Ria Purple’s song, the reaction was explosive.
As the intro started, Kang Yeonhoo pulled a pair of angel headbands out of his back pocket and shamelessly put them on.
Though of course, his ears and neck were red as ever.
“Wow...”
Realizing belatedly that Yeonhoo was embarrassed, Sunghyun murmured in pity.
“Why would Yeonhoo sunbae... go out there and... dig his own grave....”
“He’s the same type as you.”
“...Me?!”
Leaving him sputtering, I turned back to the stage.
Yeonhoo, who’d bitten his lip in solemn determination, suddenly sparkled with a wink under the spotlight.
【Ah, I looked in the mirror and wow, I’m so pretty, surprise
You already know I’m pretty (pretty)
Your eyes keep meeting mine again and again
On purpose, I walk past you just once more (woo)】
Tsk. My tongue clicked on its own.
He mixed a faint nasal tone into his already soft and distinct timbre, amplifying the charm of the song, while skillfully showing just enough of the point choreography to build up the performance.
As expected of a strong competitor.
【You say you don’t like me
I don’t care, it’s exhausting to keep pretending
So come just a little closer】
‘Hmm.’
Still, to judge coldly, he was below our team—specifically, below Joo Woosung.
Since my aim was 2nd place, I considered whether I should hold back or adjust depending on the later contestants, sipping my wine as I thought.
【It’s hard to be pretty (pretty)
Ugh, it’s so exhausting (tired)】
“Kang! Yeon! Hoo!”
“Kang! Yeon! Hoo!”
...But as time passed, the atmosphere in the hall grew strange.
‘...Wait!’
It wasn’t just Chae Jungwoo. All the WH Entertainment employees were beaming warmly, clapping enthusiastically as if they were at their grandchild’s first birthday party.
“Yeonhoo sunbae’s really popular. Maybe because he trained so long?” Sunghyun added between bites of canapé.
And he was right.
If Joo Woosung or Chae Jungwoo were WH’s proud sons, Kang Yeonhoo was their adorable, precious first grandson.
Among idols who’d debuted under WH, he’d spent the longest time as a trainee. He maintained himself diligently without anyone telling him to. Naturally, most people here knew him.
Even Jung Seonui—who’d been radiating “Why the fuck are we having a workshop when we’re so busy” all day long—now wore a proud smile as she watched Yeonhoo.
【It’s tiring to be pretty (pretty)
So, so exhausting (tired)】
Cold sweat trickled down my back.
A new variable was being added to my plan in real time.
“Kang! Yeon! Hoo!”
Shit.
How much would audience evaluation matter here?
I still didn’t think his stage was 1st-place material, but it was hard to judge how much to adjust my own performance.
Pressing my temples as my mind raced, I watched Yeonhoo fill the 4 minutes, ending by tossing candy into the crowd.
“Waaah! Candy!”
I wanted to sneer, “What is this, middle school camp?”—but when I saw our maknae Jung Dajun gleefully snatch the first piece of candy in the front row, I shut my mouth.
Wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, Yeonhoo bowed deeply.
“Thank you! Please let me win 3rd place! Please see me kindly!”
Forget 3rd place. At this rate, he might take 1st.
As he descended the stairs, his eyes met mine. Realizing how well he’d been received, his expression was strangely triumphant.
“Yeonhoo sunbae really seems like a good person, don’t you think—holy shit!”
“......”
“Hey, Seo Hoyun, relax your face.”
Still cheering, Sunghyun covered my face with one hand and shoved a wine glass into the other.
But when the next talent show song selection appeared, his eyes widened.
“Next up, ‘Manager Jang spelled the same backwards,’ our planning team’s Manager Jang, with Joo Woosung’s ‘Myth’!”
“Woooooooah!!”
Manager Jang from planning stepped out to perform Joo Woosung’s solo “Myth.”
【Can I stare your eyes】
“J-Joo Woosung s-sunbae’s song?”
Beside me, Sunghyun coughed repeatedly in shock.
【I just want to act simple in front of you
Can I hold you tight...】
If Joo Woosung himself had been here, he would’ve thrown a fit about witnessing such a disgrace.
‘This is insane.’
“Of! Course! Our! Planning! Team! Manager! Is! Handsome!r! Than! Joo! Woo! Sung!! ...Or maybe not!!”
“I just want to act simple!!”
In my head, I pictured Joo Woosung’s smirking face, his mocking laugh.
As he’d said—this competition was fiercer than I’d expected.
Sweat ran not just down my back but across my palms too.
From a mere company workshop, I felt a sharper tension than when my very first show as a rookie PD went on air.
“...I’ll go grab more wine.”
“Yeah...”
Staring blankly at Manager Jang’s performance, Sunghyun shook the empty bottle and got up to fetch another.
More contenders followed, all formidable.
As I waited for Sunghyun and the wine, I was about to move myself when—
“Why are you shaking your leg so much?”
A voice I didn’t want to hear cut in.
First came a fresh citrus scent, then a sweet whiff of coconut as someone sat in Sunghyun’s seat.
“Hiya.”
It was Min Jiheon.
He was holding a fresh bottle of wine and grinning.
“What the hell?”
“Ah... I rushed here, it was tough. Luckily filming ended earlier than expected.”
I’d heard he was busy shooting the fantasy sageuk drama When Daffodils Bloom.
There, he played Jeonghwon, a fictional royal bastard of the Joseon era, breaking ratings records week after week.
There was no way he should have had time to attend WH’s workshop.
“Why are you here?”
Flapping his T-shirt to cool himself, he poured wine into a random glass.
“I’m still with Daepaseong, technically. Or should I say WH now?”
Even with all the titles—Hallyu star, King of K-drama—he never stopped working. He kept filming dramas, movies, commercials without pause.
He gulped the wine like water, then wiped his mouth.
“Well, I also wanted to see Seo Hoyun.”
As he said it with a playful tone, his eyes swept over me.
No—precisely, they carefully scanned just past me.
“...But.”
His expression soured, and he set his glass down, propping his chin on one hand.
“Don’t you think something’s different lately?”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
What was he talking about?
The system? Quest frequency? Or Kang Ichae?
I cut off the thoughts sprouting up and answered firmly.
“No.”
“Then have you been sick recently?”
“You saw me faint in front of you.”
“No, I mean besides that. Recently.”
“I’m healthy.”
“Oh... yeah?”
He tilted his head, tapping the table with his finger like something was bothering him.
“Weird.”
But moments later, he scratched his head and brushed it off.
“Maybe I misread something.”
“...That’s it?”
“I’m not sure enough to say...”
“Let me be the judge. Tell me.”
Whenever Min Jiheon acted like this, something always ended up happening.
Better to hear it out.
“Seo Hoyun, do you remember last year—”
“Now let’s take a short break! But we still have to keep having fun, right?! Even if you didn’t sign up, anyone can join! Volunteers?! ...Oh, none? Then, Lighting Director, please choose someone from the audience!”
Just as Jiheon began, the spotlight landed on him.
“—Ah.”
His awkward face flashed onto the projector screen.
“Min Jiheon has been chosen!! Please come up to the stage!”
“Haha.”
Running a hand through his hair, he stood, bending slightly to whisper to me.
“I’ll tell you later. It’s nothing serious... probably.”
Then, raising his head, he met the gaze of each cheering employee one by one as he walked to the stage.
“Hello, I’m Min Jiheon.”
He took the mic from Chae Jungwoo.
“As a fan myself, I’d personally love to see a talent show performance. Would you be alright with that?”
“Hmm, then would it be okay if I sing?”
Gone was his usual slow, dopey tone. Like when he acted, his pronunciation was crisp and clear.
Chae Jungwoo beamed with delight.
“Of course! Which song?”
“I’ll sing the OST from my current drama, When Daffodils Bloom.”
At once, the entire hall erupted, arms waving in the air.
“Gyaaaa! Su.Pi.Nal forever in my heart!!”
“Min Jiheon! Min Jiheon!”
Naturally, our maknae was part of the frenzy too.
Seeing him, Jiheon rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand, putting on an exaggerated bashful act.
“But it feels a little embarrassing to do it alone.”
“Oh, sure!”
“So I’d like to invite someone I worked with in my past drama, Bring Me the Camera—my rude PD—”
He curved his lips into a sly smile.
“—Seo Hoyun, would you join me?”
Fuck no.
But the camera and spotlight had already swung my way.
