Idol Hides His Military Service

“Perfect packing.”

After the dramatic conclusion of my labor negotiations with Aunt, I had to go home.

They said we’d be living in together for two weeks—of course I needed to pack clothes to change into and daily necessities.

‘My daughter, fighting!’

Maybe Mom had already heard the inside story through Aunt; even though I walked into the house on my own two feet, instead of a beating or nagging she proposed a truce to settle our conflict so far—by setting a warm table of food.

Truly a Year-of-the-Snake-1965-level about-face.

For now, I had no way to withstand Madam Sukja’s two-pronged hard-and-soft tactics.

‘But this doesn’t just happen unconditionally...’

‘Don’t worry! You take after me—at least you’ve got the face! You’re finally cashing in on your looks!’

Mom was as happy as if I’d already become an idol, but in truth this was just part-time work to buy Bitcoin, so I worried she might be disappointed if I got eliminated.

‘Madam Kim, aren’t you worried when your daughter’s going to be on TV? What if her face goes nationwide and something huge happens to me!’

‘Wouldn’t that still be better than her being holed up at home every day gaming or lying on the sofa watching TV?’

Hmph...

I discovered another thing Aunt and Mom have in common.

Sometimes both of them present me with objective facts that are hard to rebut.

You’d think family could overlook a few faults.

Only Dad, who came home from work in the evening, was on my side.

‘Hey, if our daughter goes on that and then gets dropped, she’ll be hurt...’

I wanted to be moved by those warm words, but under Mom’s sharp glare—don’t say some useless thing and drain the kid’s spirits—I had no choice but to eat quietly.

‘Is that roughly everything packed?’

After dinner, normally I would {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} have gone to my room and explored the rift, but since I had to leave at dawn tomorrow, I needed to pack.

Luckily, there was a fake suitcase Mom had bought last year when she was going to Hong Kong with her friends that looked like a luxury brand, so I started loading what I needed into it one by one.

‘Underwear and clothes—this much should be enough, right?’

They said we’d be doing live-in training, so I figured there’d be a washing machine inside and packed roughly five sets.

If not, well, I could just keep wearing them.

Back in the army during guerrilla training, I endured about five days with a single pair of underwear, so this was plenty.

‘Shampoo and foam cleanser are in. Looks like I’ve pretty much got everything.’

Food would be provided there anyway, and according to Aunt the moment we entered the dorm all electronic devices would be confiscated, so I didn’t think I needed a charger.

Packing again for the first time in a while brought back old memories of stuffing a rucksack.

‘It’s been a while, and the old memories really...’

The first sergeant who roamed the company barracks every day calling the kids over to get some tasks done.

Our assistant platoon leader who hid behind the warehouse during work hours and played foot volleyball with the kids.

The platoon leader punk who took work I said I’d handle, then shredded classified documents and got me disciplined.

They were all people I miss, and people I wonder how they’re living now—but—

‘Being a woman is the best.’

One tour in the army was enough.

Memories are meant to be beautified, so I shouldn’t let myself get swayed by them.

A soldier’s life isn’t bad, but the goal of this life is a comfortable, easy, wealthy life.

‘Exactly two weeks. If I just hold out two weeks, one million won comes in.’

I set the fully packed suitcase reverently in a corner of the room, then lay straight down on the bed to get ready to sleep.

Even if I was going with the goal of dropping out, doing the job I’m given well makes even a part-timer look good.

As soon as my head hit the pillow, drowsiness poured in; I closed my eyes.

***

“Contestant number 100, Lee Sion, right?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll hand out number tags first, so please stick it on the belly area of the clothes you’re wearing.”

I attached the number tag the staffer gave me to my clothes as instructed.

Then they said I needed to put on a mic and handed me a microphone.

When I clipped the mic to my waist as told from the side, the very awkward feeling coexisted with the sense that I’d become a real celebrity.

‘So idol trainees don’t just happen for nothing.’

After finishing prep for filming and moving to the waiting area, I could see several people who’d arrived before me.

At a glance there were dozens, and each and every one was so pretty that if you ran into them on the street they’d grab people’s eyes in an instant.

“You must get your makeup done at the shop I told you!”

Before coming to the set, Aunt had half-forced me to get my makeup done at the shop she’d booked.

‘So she had a sliver of conscience.’

Maybe because I’m her niece, she was worried that if I came bare-faced I’d get compared to the other trainees.

‘But everyone’s clustered up?’

Seeing that most of the trainees who’d arrived before me were gathered in small groups, I felt a little puzzled.

Could they have already become friendly in that short time?

Feeling awkward being alone, I looked casually around a circle.

‘Ah, the trainees from the same agency are grouped together.’

Only then could I see why there were clusters.

Because the number tags had the agency name written along with the name.

In my case, since I didn’t have an agency it said “unaffiliated trainee,” but for the trainees gathered here, their respective agency names were listed.

Among them were the names of famous agencies even I, who don’t know idols well, had heard of—TSP, Logic, Animus, and so on.

‘Why did those kids even come to a survival? Wouldn’t just staying inside the agency be a smooth road?’

Because I’d heard this program was a survival among trainees, I thought only trainees from not-so-famous agencies would come out.

Contrary to my expectations, when I ran into trainees from famous agencies, it felt strangely like seeing real celebrities.

Counting both current and previous life, the only celebrity I’d ever actually seen was the trot singer Taenamgwan, who came to perform for the troops.

Why a military consolation performance sent Taenamgwan-sir instead of a girl group is still a mystery, though.

‘Hm?’

While I was scanning the other trainees one by one like that, I met eyes with one person.

Judging by the number tag, she was a trainee from the big agency Logic.

‘Number 72, name is... Seo Ryujin.’

If you look away the moment you make eye contact, it can come off like you’re snubbing them.

So I gave a slight smile and a small nod in greeting.

I’d be going home soon, but that kid might debut and become a famous celebrity.

Leaving a good impression can’t hurt.

***

“The person who just came in—she’s her, right?”

“Yeah. I thought they touched up the video a bit, but she’s actually better in person?”

Ryujin deliberately ignored the whispers of fellow agency trainees beside her.

‘Pre-interview view rankings aren’t the real rankings.’

She was a trainee at Logic, which isn’t one of Korea’s big three agencies but is evaluated just a rung below.

And among those, she had a decent level of recognition.

No wonder—she’d been steadily appearing as a backup dancer on her senior idols’ stages since two years ago, enough that posts like “When on earth is she debuting?” often went up on communities.

—Given the current situation, debut might take about two more years. So, a program sent us an offer this time... Ryujin, want to try it?

At first, she didn’t want to go.

Idol Ground 100. Even the name rubbed her the wrong way.

But she couldn’t refuse.

Ryujin was nineteen now.

If she debuted now, she’d be on the young side as an idol, but if she debuted two years later, she wouldn’t be young at all.

She was already in her fourth year as a trainee.

Repeating a life of waiting without any promise again was terrifying.

So in the end, she entered Idol Ground 100.

Having entered, she had to make top seven.

No—if possible, she wanted to take first and prove her skill.

However—

‘Who on earth is that?’

‘She’s ranked higher than Ryujin unni!’

‘Someone like that isn’t even from a big agency, just an unaffiliated trainee?’

She recalled what had happened a few days ago.

The contestant pre-interview videos.

The broadcast side had explained that, since there were a full 100 contestants, it would be hard to introduce everyone with the show alone, so they would film interviews in advance and upload them to a portal site’s clip board.

And, cruelly, those videos were sorted by view count.

The one that drew the most buzz among them was none other than the video of TSP trainee Ryu Ayeon.

‘You can’t not acknowledge Ryu Ayeon.’

Ryujin felt she had no choice but to accept Ryu Ayeon being number one.

TSP is one of the big three agencies, and among TSP’s trainees, Ryu Ayeon is evaluated as having the best skill.

Among trainees, she was already no different from an idol.

Ryu Ayeon being number one was a kind of natural-disaster situation everyone accepted.

But number two was different.

—Unaffiliated trainee Lee Sion.

An unbelievable reality where the pre-interview video of an unaffiliated trainee—forget a famous agency, not even attached to any agency—had taken second in views.

‘Who is she?’

In fact, idol trainees often change agencies, and they audition together a lot, so in most cases everyone knows everyone with just one degree of separation.

But when the name Lee Sion—whose existence none of those trainees even knew—took second in pre-interview views, confusion was inevitable.

Of course, the reason she’d taken second was obvious.

‘Pretty... she’s really insanely pretty.’

Seeing the face embedded in the video thumbnail, even Ryujin had clicked without realizing.

Not only that, watching her set a concept with four-dimensional, offbeat answers as if she’d prepared a script in advance, Ryujin honestly felt a bit impressed.

‘I’m still lacking. If you dream of being an idol, you should start crafting your image precisely from pre-interview videos like that...’

Ryujin was convinced Sion had purposely prepared an offbeat interview to construct a friendly image that contrasted with her pretty face.

Perhaps because of that—

At last, on the first shooting day of Idol Ground 100.

Ryujin had arrived early in the morning to steel herself and was waiting for Lee Sion.

In her eyes, Sion was definitely a skilled one hiding her claws.

Maybe she was a trainee someone had been raising in secret at a particular agency who, for some reason, had settled her contract and come out as an unaffiliated trainee.

Otherwise, the way she completed her image to a high degree from the pre-interview video alone couldn’t be explained.

Step.

At last, the figure Ryujin had waited for so much entered the waiting area.

‘Huh... she doesn’t even get nervous?’

For a trainee who hadn’t even debuted yet to enter the waiting room right before the first shoot, she was astonishingly at ease.

A gait that looked slightly splayed, almost out-toed.

If she’d also clasped her hands behind her back, this would’ve been a judge walking in, not a contestant.

‘What is this... she’s prettier than in the video?’

Often, someone who looked pretty in a video dulls a bit in person, but Lee Sion was different.

If anything, the video hadn’t captured all her charm.

Ryujin had always thought she’d never lose on looks anywhere, but right now she even felt she wanted to avoid standing next to Sion.

Grin.

As if she were out on a little outing, Sion leisurely looked around the waiting room.

At that moment, her eyes met Ryujin’s.

‘You want a battle of wills?’

Originally, Ryujin had intended to turn her head, embarrassed at being caught staring.

But when Sion didn’t avoid her gaze and instead looked straight at her as if observing, Ryujin’s stubbornness flared.

If I back down here, won’t I be looked down on?

That thought flashed through her head, and Ryujin didn’t avert her eyes, facing her head-on.

The staring match continued for a moment like that.

But the first to look away, in the end, was Ryujin.

And she had no choice.

Because Sion, meeting Ryujin’s eyes, slightly curled the corner of her mouth as if to say how ridiculous, wearing a sneer.

The instant she faced that subtly raised smile, Ryujin no longer had the courage to look at that face.

‘How confident do you have to be... to look at someone with such a contemptuous gaze...’

Ryujin couldn’t imagine it.

How an undebuted trainee could have eyes that arrogant.

Confidence? Skill? Or is she really a monster...

Before she knew it, the song and dance Ryujin had prepared to show at today’s entrance ceremony had vanished from her head, and only the look in Lee Sion’s eyes remained, vivid and circling.