How to Avoid Debut

༺ How To Avoid Debut – 12 ༻

 

  -This is the last shot. If we don’t make it here, uncle decided to give up.

 

  Uncle declared giving up with a weary voice. It happened over a call I received in the taxi heading towards the set.

 

  It was sudden, but recalling the posts I had seen surfing the internet, I could accept it. Honestly, it was a response that was hard to believe. Although I received attention for my dancing, I still couldn’t believe that I became the object of someone’s fandom in this way.

 

  -Hahyun-ah, are you listening?

 

  “Ah. Yes.”

 

   -I’m truly sorry but it feels like I’m going to die before I manage to set up your mini convenience store. The number of digits in my bank balance has even changed.

 

  Uncle chuckled heartily as if telling a funny joke he found on the internet, but the sorrow naturally emanating couldn’t be easily hidden. Uncle had definitely given it his all up until now. Yet, the only thing remaining was purely 100% my fault. 

 

  -Honestly, I’m not sure if we can even drop in rank with this compilation. So, Hahyun-ah.- 

 

  “Go ahead. I’m listening.” 

 

  -What about just trying to debut? You’re already good at dancing, just need a bit more singing practice. You said writing is stressful for you and it’s not really suitable as a main job, and you’re going to quit after doing it for a while.

 

  There’s no doubt I said something like that. It probably happened when Uncle and I were drinking alcohol with stir-fried pork belly as an appetizer at home about three months ago. To be honest, it was just a casual start to barely earn pocket money, and I wasn’t writing anything impressive. So, I was planning on quitting soon. 

 

  “I said I was going to quit writing, but I never said anything about becoming an idol.” 

 

  -If you’re going to change jobs anyway, this field doesn’t seem too bad.

 

  “I want to work at a convenience store.” 

 

  -Why do something so uncertain? An idol who receives a lot of love from fans until retirement, doesn’t sound so bad.

 

  Moreover, considering the buzz our program is generating now, we are bound to hit it big if you debut. There’s no way we’ll fail. Uncle brought up a tempting proposition, but it wasn’t a situation where I could just agree. 

 

  Knowing how hard it is to be an idol from my fan’s perspective, and how it’s not something you can easily give up, I also knew that the love received and hate endured are proportional. 

 

  “How am I supposed to do that with my mental state.” 

 

  -What’s wrong with your mental state? You’re strong enough.

 

  “Do you not remember when I stopped eating and drinking for three days?” 

 

  -That was then. It’s not common for someone to drag their swollen ankle to school for practice and live at an academy until dawn. I’ve been watching you for more than just a day or two, I saw you even when you were just a little runt. Ah, we’re here. Let me hang up. 

 

  Uncle ended the call pretending to know better than anyone else. What uncle said was true. Uncle probably knew me better than my father who spent about half of my life abroad, or my mother who prioritized her research above everything else.

 

  I fanned myself a few times, and the driver, noticing I was hot, rolled down the window for me. The wind that blew in from the opened window reminded me of old times. Strangely, it felt like my ankle was aching. I lightly massaged it with my hand and suddenly, it really became hot. 

 

* * * 

 

  When I checked my phone, it was just past 7 in the morning. It was practically dawn. I didn’t know why I kept arriving so early. With this thought, I stopped by the vending machine in the corridor for a moment. 

 

  Since it seemed the director disliked Jetty, I got a cup of brewed coffee. I had a sudden thought that maybe everyone’s taste had improved because uncle was recently going around Starbucks. 

 

  “Hello.” 

 

  For the third day in a row, I gave the same greeting, and handed a different can to the PD (Production Director) than yesterday. “Thank you, I will drink it well.” The PD, who had been guzzling down a Starbucks latte yesterday, also seemed satisfied with the vending machine brewed coffee. 

 

  Today, my uncle had still not arrived. Even though it’s a small position, as a PD, he’s always later than the main PD. From the noise during our phone call earlier, it seemed he wasn’t at home. 

 

  “Does Uncle always come this late?” 

 

  “Seokho is busy these days, running around here and there. He must be at his wit’s end. But, his nephew arrived early again today.” 

 

  The PD poured the last bit of the brewed coffee into his mouth and spoke, and I momentarily lost my words at the strange term of address, “nephew”. 

 

  “I just woke up early.” 

 

  I gave a rather dull response and ran off towards the yellow door. 

 

  Practicing alone was about warming up my voice, singing a few lines of lyrics, taking a sip of water, and then picking up the sheet music again. 

 

  Singing was definitely hard. It wasn’t like dancing where you just had to move your limbs, it was difficult from the fact that I had to expel the air inside me. There was no need to do well, but this wasn’t a solo stage. It was a precious stage for the other kids, receiving their first song, and I couldn’t mess it up. 

  

  “You’re here early.” 

 

  Just as I was about to take a deep breath to work on my breathing, the door swung open. Jigu, who was out of the camera angle focused on me, stepped in with big strides. Jigu, who had put his quite heavy-looking bag on the floor, took out the sheet music and walked over. 

 

  “Are you practicing?” 

 

  “I was about to start with breath control.” 

 

  “Could I see the sheet music for a moment?” 

 

  Jigu, who had lightly taken the sheet music from my hand, examined it closely and pointed out various parts with his finger. 

 

  “You can take a breath here, and here. It will be hard to get it right immediately, so you can take it slow, one note at a time.” 

 

  I quietly listened to Jigu, who was virtually dissecting the sheet music and giving me various tips. Jigu didn’t stop there and offered to teach me how to breathe diaphragmatically. 

 

  “Think of it as storing air on this side.” 

 

  Thanks to his dedicated one-on-one guidance right behind me, I had the theory down pat. I just couldn’t execute it properly yet. I understood the feeling I was supposed to have, but it was difficult to breathe like that. 

 

  “Everyone is like that at first, it took me a while to get my breathing right.” 

 

  Jigu, who took a peek at me inhaling awkwardly, lay down on the floor and covered his face with the sheet music. 

 

  “Weren’t you here early to practice?” 

 

  “Yes. But I’m a bit tired.” 

 

  “Thanks for teaching me. I think I’ll get it as I keep doing it.” 

 

  “I’m glad if it helped.” 

 

  Jigu, who finished replying in a gentle voice, remained silent for a while. As I looked down at his still body lying on the floor, a thought came to me and I threw out a question. 

 

  “Do you like dancing?” 

 

  “I don’t really like my dancing.” 

 

  An answer came as if he had been waiting. I asked if he liked dancing and a pessimistic answer came back. 

 

  “No, I just meant, do you like dancing?” 

 

  When I asked again, he sat up. Then, the sheet music that had been covering his face fell down. 

 

  “I like all kinds of music. Whether it’s singing or dancing.”

 

  “You’re good at both.” 

 

  “Dance is quite lacking. I need to learn a lot more.” 

 

  Seeing his serious eyes, I ran out of things to say. This kid was really sincere. 

 

  “I envy people who dance well.” 

 

  “Me too.” 

 

  The reason I started to like NOBLE was also due to admiration. The fact that they could show off their fabulous skills more than any other group on a big stage, and the fact that they focused on music activities rather than variety shows, was all cool. I never expected to go see a performance alone though. 

 

  “That’s why I like your dancing, senior.” 

 

  “How many times have you seen it that you say so, it’s embarrassing.” 

 

  “I saw someone dance like you for the first time in 17 years.” 

 

  So you’re saying you’ve seen it when you were two? I decided to hold back from teasing him, as his expression while speaking was again serious. It felt strange to hear someone who was so passionate about doing music on stage say that he liked my dancing. 

 

  “Thanks for saying that.” 

 

  “So please don’t quit dancing, keep going. No matter what.” 

 

  I was sure of the oddity I felt every time he spoke, from his comment earlier. So, I asked him directly. 

 

  “Where have you seen me?”

 

  “At school. I saw you at the school festival and during morning assembly.” 

 

  “Ah, the club performance.” 

 

  No wonder he always spoke as if he knew me. Thinking about it, it was obvious that he would have seen me at least once, since we were in the same school. Somehow feeling embarrassed, I quickly turned my gaze to the sheet music. 

 

  “I thought you were the first, but there are two.” 

 

  Not long after, Gaon entered the room, opening the door, and the rest of the members, excluding Seongwon, gradually entered. 

 

  Seeing the practice room, which had been awkward, fill with people and the atmosphere lightening, I immediately went outside. I went to the empty bathroom, washed my face, and hastily wiped it with my sleeve.

 

  Thinking back to high school, I remembered my family, who lived an hour’s drive away, and I opened my phone’s contact list. I thought I’d give them a call before heading in. 

 

  I searched for ‘hyung’ in my contacts and immediately pressed the call button. Although it was almost 9 o’clock, I knew my brother would still be before his work time. 

 

  -What’s up? What brings you to call first? 

 

  His voice, and the sound of him starting the car, came at the same time. My brother, who worked at a company only a 10-minute walk away, always drove to work. Despite the long absence of a call from me, he was unfazed. 

 

  “I just thought of you, hyung.” 

 

  -Did you run out of money already? 

 

  “How can you say that so bluntly? 

 

  -Ah, right. Are you on TV these days? I saw your picture as the wallpaper on one of my co-worker’s phones. When I asked, they said ‘who doesn’t know about this program these days?’ Where are you appearing? Did you decide to dance again? 

 

  It was just like him. My brother was a typical sports fanatic. He had a huge TV in his apartment, and he always sat on the sofa, watching soccer and drinking beer. 

 

  He was a typical homebody who didn’t really go anywhere except work, home, and company dinners. His endless love for sports and beer even resulted in quite a few breakups with girlfriends. Naturally, there’s no way my brother would know about something like an idol survival program. 

 

  “Don’t you usually call immediately when you find out something you didn’t know about your younger brother?” 

 

  -It’s a hassle. That’s why I’m asking now. 

 

  “It’s a program where if you work hard at dancing, you can debut as an idol.”

 

  -I didn’t know you were interested in idols. Should I buy a few albums when you debut? 

 

  “I said I was participating, not that I’m debuting.” 

 

  -Okay. Then call me again when you debut. I’ll listen to music on my way. 

 

  Despite the long-awaited call with his only younger brother, my brother acted as if listening to pop songs while going to work was more important. It’s not like it takes him a long time to get there. He seemed to half-listen to what people were saying, so I thought I should clear up the misunderstanding and hang up. 

 

  “I’m doing this because uncle asked me to.” 

 

  -You should work hard and debut while you’re at it. You like dancing, don’t you? 

 

“Do you think becoming an idol is all about dancing?”“아이돌이 춤만 춰서 되는 줄 알아?”

 

  -Then practice singing. Being an idol is also about dancing. You like dancing. You always struggled with writing. I approve of you doing what you love. I’ll look for the rerun after work 

 

  My brother quickly finished what he had to say and really hung up. He seemed in such a hurry to do so. I erased the call time, which hadn’t even been a few minutes, by pressing the back button and banged my head on the mirror in front of the sink. 

 

  I thought he’d nag at me for being on an idol debut program. Instead, he just keeps saying he approves of me doing what I love. 

 

  “Ah, Park Sanghyun, really.” 

 

  He had no interest in his younger brother, and then he suddenly says that and hangs up. As I recalled what my brother had said, my face suddenly became hot again. 

 

  You like dancing. My brother’s voice was firm, even when I recalled it. Then something occurred to me. 

 

  ‘He won’t see me even if he watches the rerun.’‘

 

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