episode_0139

#139

“Yes. Are you calling about the schedule?”

I set down the coffee I was drinking and tucked my phone between my shoulder and ear. Immediately, I opened the schedule on my tablet.

“Ah, yes. That period might be difficult. We already have a shoot scheduled.”

From mid-July onward, my schedule was completely empty.

“Yes, yes. It’s an important shoot… By any chance, would September work for you? Ah, then…”

It was summer, the vacation season, so unexpectedly, there were many event inquiries pouring in—but I had to turn down every single one.

There was no helping it. The contract stipulated that during this filming period, no external activities were allowed.

About a month had passed since Harin and I broke up.

We returned to a business relationship similar to when we first met.

Though things had gone completely sour between us, and words like “withdrawal” or “disbandment”—painful even to think about—kept circling my mind, thankfully, Harin didn’t react that extremely.

When she returned to the dorm, she was the same diligent leader she always had been.

But behind the scenes… she was probably doing something else.

She started using her phone or taking calls more often and began oversleeping or staying out late—things she never used to do.

What she might be doing during those nights out… was obvious.

There had even been times when I spotted the foreign car Park Dongchul drives near the dorm.

I deliberately pretended not to notice.

When she returned from staying out, I’d just say, “You’re back?” and immediately switch to work talk.

After about a month, it became an unwritten rule not to ask about Harin’s personal life anymore.

She stopped asking about mine, too.

But something had changed.

“Yes~. Please come again. Contact us next time.”

As soon as I hung up, Sarang looked at me while holding her tablet. She wanted to jot down what I’d said instead. When I shook my head, she made a disappointed face and handed the tablet back.

“Again?”

“No choice. They insisted it had to be then, and timing-wise, it’s right in the middle of our shoot.”

I pointed toward late July on the calendar on-screen. The period was even marked with a different background color.

[‘Queen of Idols’ Season 2 Filming Period]

The girls hated it—hated it enough to be deeply hurt by it. But that didn’t mean we could just give up.

‘Queen of Idols’—a show where nugu girl groups from small agencies or washed-up former idols competed in an audition format.

Gathering unpopular idols, putting them through dormitory training, re-training, and competitions, all to ultimately form a new group—that was the goal of ‘Queen of Idols.’

It was an opportunity to transfer to the broadcasting company’s affiliated label and receive full promotional support. Season 1’s results had already proven its worth—even holding its own among the wave of 4th-gen idols.

We had secured a spot for Season 2, and dorm filming was about to begin.

Naturally, external activities would be impossible during that time, so refusal was the only option.

“That’s a shame~. Wasn’t that a pretty good company?”

Sarang wrapped her arms around my shoulders from behind, clinging more than hugging.

“Still, we can’t just break contract and back out.”

“True. You’ve already talked it over with the CEO too.”

“…This is our last chance.”

“……….”

Sarang didn’t respond to the word “last.”

But it was the truth.

If we were eliminated without results, there wouldn’t be much left for to do.

Sure, they could scrape by with small gigs and local festivals—but sustaining activities meant continually releasing albums, which our agency had no intention of supporting.

Without new music, an idol’s career dies.

These kids would be saddled with massive debt and forced back into society—with nothing to their names beyond middle school education.

At least they’d taken the GED, so they’d have a high school diploma. That was something.

As for me? After refusing the CEO’s offer, I’d been treated like an outcast. If disbanded, I’d be clearing out my desk next.

That left ‘Queen of Idols’ as our only shot.

If we passed the auditions and redebuted… sure, we’d have to switch labels and rebrand completely, but at least the girls could keep performing under a new group.

Win or lose, was doomed either way.

The girls knew it, too.

None of them said it outright, but gradually, they all seemed to be preparing in their own ways.

Eunchae seemed interested in modeling.

Seah might’ve been studying for some certification.

And Sarang…

“You’re not preparing anything?”

“Prepare? For what? The shoot?”

“No. Like… Ugh.”

Sarang seemed clueless as usual. Still, I had to ask.

“If gets cut from ‘Queen of Idols’… what then?”

“Huh? Then we keep going. Even if we fail, won’t disappear.”

“…Yeah, but it’s not like we’ll last forever.”

“Pfft—I never thought we’d last a thousand years anyway. What group does?”

“……”

“Once I retire… I’ll marry Oppa.”

She pulled me into a tight hug.

This girl, honestly—always saying stuff like that…

But I didn’t exactly hate it.

After that day, Sarang and I started dating.

I’d been dumped by Harin.

She’d cut ties with Han Myungsoo.

She outright deleted and blocked his number right in front of me—showing just how determined she was to move on.

She updated me on every little thing, annoying almost, and texted me nonstop.

Still, part of me felt awkward. After all, she’d once been in Han Myungsoo’s arms. Not that I could blame her—I wasn’t innocent either—but I didn’t bring it up.

Sarang, sharp as ever, seemed to sense my hesitation and worked hard to regain my trust.

And for a whole month, nothing happened.

No calls from Han Myungsoo to either of us. No contact at all.

A clean break.

As time passed, my confidence in Sarang’s sincerity grew. After a month, it almost felt like we’d always been together.

Part of me wished things could stay like this forever. But reality, as always, had other plans.

*Ring—*

“Mhmhm… Mr. Jeon Hogoosil?”

I answered my phone—CEO Nohvia.

Sarang tensed up seeing his caller ID.

“Yes, CEO.”

“How’s broadcast prep going?”

“…Going well. The girls are ready for dorm training, and filming starts soon.”

“PD Park contacted me. He wants to film practicing at the company tomorrow, so head there.”

“……….”

Since CEO Nohvia took over, we’d been banned from company practice rooms—effectively kicked out.

His request was a thinly veiled order—fake it for the cameras.

“Understood.”

“Glad you catch on quick. Oh, and… *Eugh*. Hold on.”

I heard the phone being set down.

From a distance, strange wet noises echoed.

*Schllrp… Schlllckt… Sluuurp…*

*Huff… Huff… Gkk—!*

*BLORP! BLORT! BLORRRP!*

“……….”

I knew exactly what was happening on the other end—but stayed silent.

He probably summoned some trainee from his new girl group for “volunteer work.”

CEO Nohvia’s perversions were an open secret at this point—but no one dared call him out.

The girls “volunteered,” after all.

That’s the sickening power play of men in charge.

“*Phew*… Refreshing. Ah, sorry for the wait, Mr. Jeon.”

“…It’s fine.”

“We’re all counting on for ‘Queen of Idols.’ Good ratings mean better recognition. Succeed, and you might even redebut.”

So he could legally transfer ’s ownership.

…I saw right through him. But saying it aloud wouldn’t help.

“Mhmhm… If you do well, maybe I’ll introduce you to our upcoming ‘Nohvia Girls’ trainees… Ah, but that’s irrelevant to you. *Ahem*. Forget I said that.”

“…Sure.”

Now I understood why he pushed us into ‘Queen of Idols.’

“Oh, one more thing, Mr. Jeon.”

I wanted to hang up—but he stopped me.

“Yes, CEO?”

“PD Park asked me to pass this along.”

“Which is…?”

“VIPs are taking a keen interest in . *Heh*…”

“……….”

Bad news.

I knew exactly what kind of show this was.

What lurked behind it.

But we had no other options.

Hanging up, I looked at Sarang.

Her face was tinged with worry—yet she forced a smile, trying to reassure me.

Would I have to send her back into that hellhole now?

If I told her to go, she’d say, “Oppa asked, so I will.” But… I didn’t want to ask anymore.

What should I do?

“…Hogo Oppa.”

“Mm?”

“We’ve got time today, right?”

“All schedules are done.”

“…Let’s take a break for a bit.”

In the rearview mirror, Sarang’s face was flushed red.