episode_0001

# 01

*Sigh… Manager Jeon.*

The president seated at the head of the table kept puffing away at his cigarette. It was already his third one.

I sat beside him, inhaling the smoke as if I were some kind of convict.

*”I know you prepared well for this comeback. I also know how hard you worked, Manager Jeon.”*

*“Yes.”*

*“But with these results… I don’t have a choice. You know how much money we poured into this album.”*

*“Yes. I’m aware.”*

We even brought in established composers and lyricists, and the music video was lavishly produced.

I hadn’t gone over the detailed expenses yet, but I knew it had easily cost upwards of hundreds of millions.

*“What was the peak ranking?”*

*“87th.”*

*“No, no. That was the first week. What about now?”*

It had been three weeks since the release.

*“…They’ve left the charts.”*

*“And music show appearances?”*

*“…None.”*

*“We spent a decent amount on marketing, didn’t we?”*

*“Well, we did put some into YouTube…”*

*“And this is the result?”*

*“……”*

Words failed me.

This album was the culmination of six months of relentless effort—from my team, but most importantly, from *our girls*.

SEPIA’s fourth mini-album.

I knew better than anyone how many sleepless nights the staff had poured into it, how many late-night dance practices the members had endured, how many times they had pushed themselves until they collapsed.

The president ground his third cigarette into the ashtray with a sigh.

*“SEPIA’s time is… probably coming to an end.”*

*“President, they still have loyal fans. There’s always a chance for a reverse—”*

*“How much longer do you expect me to wait on that ‘reverse surge’? A group with fans falls off the charts in just three weeks?”*

*“But the girls are still young. There’s still—”*

*“The youngest—what’s her name again? Se-ah? Even she’s been around the block by idol standards.”*

Se-ah was twenty.

*“That’s hardly—”*

*“She debuted in middle school. In the idol world, that’s seniority. How many groups have debuted since then?”*

He wasn’t wrong.

Se-ah, the youngest, had debuted at sixteen. Back then, the eldest and leader, Harin, was only nineteen. But four years had already passed since then.

A new generation of girl groups had risen, and countless rookies younger than SEPIA had climbed past them.

The leader of the most popular girl group right now was the same age as Se-ah…

At most, these girls were twenty, twenty-three. But unlike other professions, the idol industry was brutal.

For girl groups—where lifespans were short and turnovers merciless—time was the most fatal blow.

*“I know how attached you’ve grown to them since their trainee days. I watched their debut too. But it’s time to let go. They had their moment. Be content with that.”*

The president exhaled deeply while staring at the ceiling.

As he said, SEPIA had soared in popularity with their second mini-album.

Eunchae, the member with the strongest visuals, had gone viral overnight thanks to a single candid photo, becoming an overnight sensation.

It earned them a solid fandom, and at the very least, they weren’t *unknown* anymore.

But nothing lasts forever. Now, apart from a few diehard fans, most had moved on.

In the end, failing to sustain that momentum was entirely my fault—my failure as a producer.

The only reason we could pour so much money into this fourth comeback was *because* of that past success.

Otherwise, they’d have long faded into obscurity like any other nugu group.

*“SEPIA… It’s about time to wrap things up.”*

*“President.”*

*Please.*

I looked at him desperately, knees nearly trembling, but the president didn’t spare me a glance.

From the company’s perspective, they had already suffered massive losses. They’d given more than enough support—anything further would be meaningless.

But still.

Six years—from their trainee days to now.

I had raised SEPIA’s four members from the ground up, overseeing every step of their journey.

From my early days as a manager to my current position—this was **my** girl group.

I couldn’t just walk away.

I knew better than anyone how hard they had practiced.

How much they had sacrificed.

How much they endured.

*“Just… one last chance. That’s all I’m asking.”*

*“Didn’t this fourth album come from you begging for *one last chance*?”*

*“…I know I’m pushing my luck. But please.”*

*“No.”*

His refusal was absolute.

He had already made up his mind before calling me here.

*“Start preparing. Let’s set the date for about a month from now.”*

He was talking about disbandment.

*“President. I’ll do anything. The girls will do anything. Please—”*

He lit a fourth cigarette and stayed silent.

*“……”*

For a long moment, he stared blankly at the ceiling before finally speaking again, cigarette still between his fingers.

*“Say those girls of yours…”*

*“Yes?”*

*“Are they really prepared to **do anything**?”*

What would the girls say if asked that?

The answer was obvious.

*“Yes. They are.”*

*“And you?”*

*“Yes.”*

*“…Alright.”*

He crushed his cigarette into the ashtray and finally looked at me.

*“…Then there’s *one* thing you can do.”*

—

*

*

*“Ah! Oppa!” “Manager-nim.”*

The moment I stepped into the practice room, the members of SEPIA rushed toward me.

They had been in the middle of practicing their new song, but they stopped the music immediately.

*“What… did the president say?”*

Harin, the leader, asked cautiously.

Damn it. I hadn’t told them I was meeting the president.

Guess word had already spread.

*“Yeah, well… It’s nothing serious. He just said we need to push harder with promotions. Got a bit of a scolding, that’s all.”*

The girls knew the situation—weak lies wouldn’t fool them.

Shadows flickered across their faces.

*“I… see.”* *“If only they’d support us with promotions… The song is really good.”*

*“I did bring it up.”*

*“And?”*

*“He said he’ll think about it. It’s not like they can just hand out freebies.”*

*“So he hasn’t completely given up on us yet.”* *“Right. For a second, I got scared because I overheard those new trainees saying they’re already forming a new group…”*

*“……”*

*“Don’t worry too much. If we push harder with promotions, we can still turn this around.”*

*“Music shows… are impossible, right?”*

Eunchae, who had been listening quietly from the back, suddenly spoke up.

*“……”*

I froze.

Music show appearances—especially on broadcast networks—were never easy.

They prioritized the top-tier groups, and even then, it wasn’t just girl groups competing.

For small agencies like ours—the so-called *‘hacco’* groups—getting even **one** slot required endless groveling to the PDs. And even that wasn’t guaranteed.

SEPIA’s fourth album hadn’t landed a single music show appearance. PDs were too busy recruiting trending rookies—they had no reason to cater to a five-year-old mid-tier girl group.

My networking hadn’t been strong enough either.

But.

This time, ‘business’ might take a different turn.

*“No. I think we can get *one* slot.”*

*“Really?”* *“Where? Music Core? Inkigayo?”* *“If we could just get on *one*…”*

*“I’m working on both. So you girls prepare like it’s happening, okay?”*

*“Yes!”* *“Got it, Oppa.”*

Their moods lifting, they hurried back to the mirrors to resume practice.

There was still hope.

But now, we had to **make** that hope ourselves.

*“Ah, Harin.”*

*“Yes?”*

I gestured for her to follow me outside.

Only when the music in the practice room started again did I speak carefully.

*“…There’s something important.”*

*“…What is it?”*

Sensing the gravity in my tone, Harin straightened up attentively.

*“There’s a music show slot opening up next week.”*

*“…Seriously?”*

*“Yeah. The problem is… We’re not the only ones gunning for it.”*

Obviously, countless groups and soloists were desperate for just **one** appearance.

*“So… I’ll need to ask the PD for a favor.”*

*“…?”*

I trailed off, unable to continue.

But it had to be said.

And **Harin**, as the leader, would understand.

She was the most responsible. The most diligent.

Above all—she was SEPIA’s **leader**.

*“When we ask… You’ll need to greet him.”*

*“All of us? That shouldn’t be too hard—”*

*“No. Wait— Uh… *You*, Harin. Just you.”*

*“…Just me?”*

*“It’s just… He’s… uh… He’s always had a favorable impression of you. So…”*

The words wouldn’t come easily.

*“Ah, okay… Good. I don’t mind. If he’s a fan, I should greet him properly.”*

*“No, that’s not— Ugh…”*

I glanced at Harin’s expression.

She was still staring at me blankly.

But Harin wasn’t foolish enough to not grasp the implication.

*“He wants to meet you. Alone. The PD.”*

*“…Ah.”*

Harin’s lips parted slightly before sealing shut.

Her fists clenched so tightly they trembled.

I couldn’t bear to look at her face and turned away.

Gradually, her shaking subsided.

Her voice was quieter than the music leaking from the practice room, but I heard it clearly.

*“…Okay. …I’ll meet him.”*