How to Avoid Debut

༺ How To Avoid Debut – 22 ༻

 

  They said the Earth is round. Hence, they told me to live my life in a round way too.

 

  At first, I couldn’t understand it at all. I’m not the actual Earth existing in the universe, so why should I become round just because I have the same name?

 

  But as my head started to grow a little, I understood that saying. I realized that in a life full of curves, it’s easier to get by if you roll along flexibly like a round ball. If you stop to scrutinize each and every thing, and start tackling the facts you can’t understand, it becomes endless.

 

  I always tried to live remembering the deep meaning behind the name my parents had given me. Living in a round way wasn’t so difficult. As I had a naturally quiet and timid personality, I didn’t have major conflicts with others, and was careful with each word I spoke to maintain harmonious relationships.

 

  Most of the kids in the same Team didn’t find me, who was so mundane, very interesting, but I liked that. Having friends to do things together was nice, but I didn’t want to get any closer than that. I found practicing singing alone more enjoyable than going to the PC cafe with friends.

 

  My brother, who is six years older than me, has been training in a moderately famous small-to-midsize agency since I was in elementary school. I knew being a trainee was like having no dreams or hopes, but whether it was because of my hard-working brother, or because I loved music, I decided from a very young age that I wanted to be an idol.

 

  When I was in my first year of middle school, I seriously talked to my parents about it, and they both almost fell over backward. They asked me how I could think of throwing myself into the entertainment world, not just one, but two of us. My mother, who had strange hopes for my not-so-bad academic performance, called for God with a face turned completely pale.

 

  I felt guilty, but I didn’t back down. I said I would live like a round ball, but my stubbornness was resilient like rubber.

 

  “I’ve confirmed my debut.

 

  Congratulations.”

 

  My brother casually tossed the news of his debut at me while he sat on the sofa playing a game, as if he was asking, ‘what’s for dinner tonight?’ and I nonchalantly congratulated him without much thought.

 

  That was the end of the conversation. Seeing that my playful brother didn’t say anything more, I figured he had a lot on his mind, so I just went to my room. Not long after, my brother packed his things. It was because he was debuting and moving into the dorm.

 

  [Is there any chicken left in the fridge?]

 

  [None]

 

  [Okay, I will be there in 10 minutes when practice ends, so order now. Get that new rice dish too. I’ll pay, just tell them to charge it to my card.]

 

  The chats we frequently exchanged as brothers were now remnants of the past. While scrolling through old messages, I found out that the last day we had a conversation was already a month ago.

 

  After his debut, my brother seemed to be quite busy. As a newcomer from a small-to-midsize agency, he was going all over the place to perform at events. The amount of time spent traveling was immense due to performing even at the most miscellaneous local events.

 

  While my brother was struggling with his group members, I found an agency. It was quite a large and famous agency, and I only intended to try out for the audition, but I had no idea I would actually pass. It was all too overwhelming, and since my brother was busy, I didn’t bother to share the news. I barely persuaded my mother to sign the contract, and I still couldn’t forget the overwhelming feeling on my first day visiting the agency.

 

  “…Hello.”

 

  In the midst of trainees desperate for debut, having one more competitor couldn’t be a good thing. The scrutinizing gazes sizing me up and down were a bit uncomfortable, but I thought this level of endurance was expected.

 

  Pathetically enough, I thought I was mature. To be honest, I was even wrapped up in the pride of thinking I was somewhat different from others my age. I believed I would be different from others and I would never give up over trivial matters. That day, as I greeted everyone, I firmly set my mind to debut here.

 

  I tried not to get swayed by their looks and self-hypnotized in silence. Round and round.

 

  “Do you want something to drink, Jigu? Are you thirsty?

 

  Thank you.”

 

  Perhaps the trainees deemed the arrival of a green youngster, who was just fifteen, not worth feeling threatened over, they soon started to show friendly looks. The creed of living in a round way worked well here too. The trainees didn’t dislike a young brother who was unoffensive and diligent.

 

  The practice sessions proceeded smoothly in a somewhat harmonious atmosphere. Honestly, I wasn’t great at dancing, so I poured all my effort into it. I wanted to create softer movements and wanted to have delicate dance lines.

 

  Fortunately, my desire for music worked positively. Winter quickly deepened and when the next year came and I turned sixteen, my skills noticeably improved. Thanks to that, I moved up to the A-3 Team in the third monthly evaluation, and even received high praise from the president, who said, “These days, it’s common to debut at sixteen.”

 

  Feeling the reward of my hard work, I shed tears of joy in private on my way home, which was embarrassing yet delightful. For the first time since joining the agency, I contacted my brother, who was a bit angry, asking why I was only sharing such important news now. Even his scolding felt good, and I don’t know how many times I kicked the innocent couch in delight.

 

  “Min Seo-Jin, you’re screwed for this month’s evaluation.

 

  Take care.

 

  Damn, did you think only I would fail? Jeong Su-Hyuk, quit smoking first before talking. Your voice is clearly getting worse.

 

  You quit not long ago, and you’re talking like a wise man?

  

  Isn’t it time you start taking care of your throat? Do you want to go to Team B? The president seems to have noticed your smoking.”

 

  Ah, this sucks. Su-Hyuk, who was messing up his hair, laid back. Watching Seo-Jin kick him as he laughed at Su-Hyuk’s lack of energy, I kept drinking water endlessly.

 

  The seniors from Team A, who showed outstanding skills at each monthly evaluation, had worse behavior than I expected. They worked hard during practice hours, but as soon as the music was turned off, they transformed completely, spreading low-grade stories. If I was practicing alone, they would turn off the music, drag me away, and tell me to stop.

 

  “Jigu, you’re really working hard.

 

  To debut, I have to work hard.

 

  These days, in the idol scene, it’s all about looks rather than skills. You’re handsome, so you could slack off.”

 

  Hey, is that something to say to a sixteen-year-old? Don’t destroy the innocence. Even though sixteen is not an age to have innocence destroyed by such words, the seniors from Team 3 treated me like a kid. Even though there is not a huge difference between middle school and high school, they did so peculiarly. Every time they said something, it always came with a disclaimer, “Because you’re young,” and my age was always brought up.

 

  At first, I thought they were taking care of me because I was the youngest, but as time passed, I could feel a strange barrier being built. The people who were already tightly formed like well-made clay sculptures didn’t seem to care much about my existence.

 

  “Jigu, come here.

 

  Yes.

 

  Sing this part once.”

 

  “Hey, you’re good. Let me teach you a bit before I go.” Seongwon, who was a leader-like figure in Team 3, wasn’t exactly a nice person, but at least when he talked to me, he seemed to want to be a jovial senior. He often messed with my hair and called me here and there whenever he had a chance.

 

  He had a bad habit of pushing me to the point of being troublesome sometimes, and he would also exchange cheap and crude jokes when hanging out with other seniors. Seongwon always referred to himself as a bastard. Even though I knew his parents were married, he said that. Those people would be happy if I died quietly in the room.

 

  “This is Yejun. He’s two years older than me.

 

  Hello.

 

  So you’re the youngest of the talked-about Team 3. Hi, I’m the cool rapping bro.”

 

  Seongwon introduced me to Yejun, and he also easily explained the choreography that I sometimes couldn’t follow. In the world of competition I entered at a young age, the only ones I could hold on to while being relentlessly shaken were the seniors from Team 3, and I had no choice but to become close to them.

 

  I knew they weren’t good people, but there was nothing I could do. They were people in the same group after all, and there was nothing to gain from being on bad terms with them. There was no need to clash unnecessarily, it was best to get along smoothly.

 

  Seongwon took care of me, who was not very eloquent, even during the V-app among trainees, and my heart softened at his small, meaningless favors. At some point, I got used to the unjust treatment and criticism I received as if it was natural, and I just let it be.

 

  “The group name is SPACE.

 

  Who on earth came up with that?

 

  Wait. The meaning of SPACE is room and openness. It’s Universe.

 

  What’s openness?”

 

  I belatedly learned that Team A-3 consisted of people who would be assigned to a large group project being prepared by the company. It was a story unrelated to me, who was a latecomer.

 

  The debut group seniors threw humorless and unimpressive jokes, saying, “It’s a shame that there’s no Earth in the Universe.” I ignored them and focused on practicing.

 

  As time passed while struggling in Team A, another year came around. I enrolled in Korea Arts High School, and NOBLE hit the jackpot.

 

  The album was successful, and finally, the money came in, so the senior even took the time to call me. From my perspective, the success of their group was almost like winning the lottery. The number of fans increased exponentially at once, and album sales increased in an instant. NOBLE quickly rose to become a trending idol.

 

-“The president was really surprised. The song was good, whose voice is it? Right?”

 

  “Congratulations.”

 

-“Thank you. You’re working hard, aren’t you?”

 

  “Yep. Of course.”

 

  I could feel his lips curl up into a smile, even though it wasn’t a video call. As I was congratulating him and the atmosphere at home was almost party-like, an incident happened at the company.

 

  “Are you crazy? You’re trying to become a celebrity and you smoked and fought friends in high school?

 

  It was before I joined here.

 

  You shit, you call that an excuse?”

 

  The president, seemingly very angry, walked into the practice room and threw a heavy looking binder. Unfortunately, he didn’t hit my head, but the binder hit my shoulder and fell, sadly colliding with the floor.

 

  The binder fell with a thud, revealing a crumpled paper as it spread out. It was a poor-quality screenshot of a post on some website.

 

  “You know how relentless our netizens are. Even if we cover it up well with your father’s influence now, it will all explode later. Why would we use someone who can be criticized, when we have so many replacements?”

 

  The president, after venting his anger for a while longer, ended up stomping on the binder and walking out. Seongwon roughed his hair and spat out all kinds of curses. His eyes were so fierce that it seemed he could kill a person. The seniors who debuted with him hesitantly approached, and I backed off. I just closed the door to the practice room pretending I didn’t know anything and ran out of the building.

 

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TL/N: Jigu’s name means “Earth”

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