Chapter 160: End-of-Year Stage (30) |
Familiarity has a curious way of sneaking up on you. Its comfort often lulled you into a false sense of security.
At first, the close proximity and sporadic touches during our rehearsals made us wonder whether this was truly all right. However, those hesitations faded as time passed, and we grew accustomed to the closeness. We found ourselves naturally shortening the distance, diving into practice without reservations.
The footage captured by the cameras left us thoroughly impressed; it was truly spectacular. We had gone all out as if we were bewitched by the ingenuity of our leaders' concepts and the choreographer's inventive routines. We all nodded in awe and agreement.
However, when we showcased our polished choreography to the Chronos and Renewal management team, their reactions leaned more toward concern than sheer admiration, which was somewhat anticipated.
“Hmm…”
Supervisor Kim stroked his chin thoughtfully with a contemplative frown. Then, he eyed us with a serious expression. “Well done, really well done. But I'm wondering if this might be a bit much. Manager Lee, what do you think?"
Our manager was hesitant and shook his head slightly. “I'm not entirely sure. To me, it seems like a fantastic routine."
“Ah, Manager Lee, this is your first time managing an idol group, isn't it? I'm on the fence about this myself." When the representative from MN Entertainment shared a noncommittal response, Eun-Sae quizzically tilted her head.
“What seems to be the issue here? We've toned down the physical contacts as much as possible."
His reaction snapped me back to reality, reminding me that we weren't just rehearsing for a university project or a trainee evaluation. This wasn't about showcasing just any performance. It was dedicated to our fans, so it needed to resonate deeply with the hearts of those watching.
With Renewal barely a year into their debut and Chronos fresh on the scene, we were still grappling with the true significance of dedicating a performance to our fans.
“It might be wise to choose something more aligned with what the fans would appreciate, Eun-Sae," suggested MN Entertainment representatives gently.
“Something the fans would like..." Eun-Sae wondered.
“Such a fantastic performance could be reserved for a concert setting."
Supervisor Kim added, “While it's labeled a collaborative stage, it's not quite about the collaboration. The physical contact might be acceptable, but the mature allure you are aiming for, Eun-Sae, could potentially backfire. Perhaps toning it down a notch would be a wiser choice."
“I understand," Eun-Sae conceded, though both of our groups couldn't hide our disappointment. The exceptional quality of the choreography had elevated our standards, akin to being shown a luxury apartment and then having to consider a studio space.
Even as newcomers, we already understood what elements could make a lasting impact through our performances, which made it challenging to let go of certain aspects. I felt the same way as I recognized the brilliance of the choreography we had just crafted.
Acting as our de facto deputy leader, Joo-Han affirmed our commitment to reworking the routine. “Okay, we will revisit it and make the necessary adjustments.”
Supervisor Kim, our manager, and the representatives from MN Entertainment acknowledged our willingness with nods of approval before leaving the practice room, leaving behind a heavy silence.
A heavy sigh pierced through the quietness.
The clock had pushed past 2 AM, and a unanimous thought hung heavily in the air.
‘How would we find the time to revise and rehearse the choreography?’ This wasn't merely a group assignment but rather a monumental task we had undertaken. We knew we had to make it work at all costs.
“Any thoughts?" Eun-Sae's call for input was met with silence as everyone merely exchanged weary glances. We were too drained from the long hours of practice and the dip in morale to kickstart a brainstorming session.
“Eun-Sae, Joo-Han, and the dance leads from both teams, let's have a word." The choreographer finally stepped forward, taking into account the agency's advice to respect the members' opinions and conserve his input until now.
Joo-Han and Jin-Sung followed suit, ready for a discussion. This unexpected break gave us a moment to breathe.
“Phew. Do you want to grab some drinks, Hyun-Woo?" Yoo-Joon suggested, stretching his limbs.
Following Yoo-Joon, I found myself reflecting on Supervisor Kim's earlier remarks. “This reminds me of the situation with Allure," he had mentioned. Indeed, there had been a similar incident involving Allure. Though I hadn't witnessed it firsthand, I had seen it through a broadcast VTR. As newcomers, Allure had once collaborated with a girl group for a performance. I couldn't say for sure how the fans reacted at the time.
Despite the performance being quite spectacular, Supervisor Kim’s visibly shaken reaction suggested that it hadn't been well-received. How had Allure handled such performances afterward?
I paused, recalling various concert performances by the Allure members, and then it clicked.
“What are you thinking about?" Yoo-Joon asked, handing me a drink from the fridge.
“Just pondering how seniors usually handle joint stages."
“Aren't they all quite similar? We've seen plenty of joint stages, and they seemed to follow a certain pattern."
“That’s true.”
“It's a real bummer. The original choreography is pretty stellar. But if there's even a chance the fans might not vibe with it, we've got to pivot," I mused aloud, the disappointment clear in my voice.
Deep down, I was itching to bring that level of quality to the stage.
“Where did the choreographer and Joo-Han hyung dash off to?"
“They are probably having a meeting with the seniors and Jin-Sung."
“Any idea where?"
“They might be in the meeting room. Why? Do you have an idea?"
“Yeah, I just wanted to run something by them."
Yoo-Joon gave a low whistle of appreciation and playfully thumped my back, maybe a little too enthusiastically. “Classic Suh Hyun-Woo, always cooking up something new. You've got a fresh routine in mind already?"
I shook my head, dismissing the idea. “No, not crafting a new routine."
“Then what's up?"
“Can't quite articulate it yet. I will sort it out as I talk it through with them."
Yoo-Joon shrugged and scanned the area, pointing toward a distant murmur. “Hear that? That's gotta be them. Catch you in a bit."
I grabbed the sports drink he offered, and I nodded with gratitude before making my way to the meeting room. I wasn't entirely sure, but I felt there might be a way to tweak just a few details and keep most of the routine while dialing down any potential backlash.
***
“Dancers?"
I nodded in response to the choreographer's question. “Yes."
I wasn't in the mood to overcomplicate things. Frankly, I didn’t have the energy or the spirit for another round of intense brainstorming. Therefore, why not keep it straightforward? We just had to avoid doing what was advised against, and that would be more than enough.
We needed to find a strategy to soften any potential fan backlash, and that seemed simple enough. If the faces of our dance partners were hidden, that would mitigate any concerns.
Reflecting on how AllIure managed their mixed-gender stages and recalling similar instances, I realized interactions with professional dancers tend to be perceived in a more business-like manner. Thus, it was less likely to stir up negative feelings.
“Let's cover the dancers' faces, leaving just the eyes visible."
“That sounds feasible. So, we are just swapping songs without actually performing as dancers on each other's stages, right?"
“That seems like the best approach." Eun-Sae agreed, nodding thoughtfully.
By the time I entered the meeting room, they had made a few adjustments. It appeared both Eun-Sae and Joo-Han were inclined to err on the side of caution to stave off any controversy.
The choreographer summed up everyone's input. “So, we are keeping most of the choreography with just minor tweaks. And instead of sharing the stage, we will just swap songs and perform alongside the dancers, correct?"
“Yes."
“I will speak to the manager about disguising the dancers' identities."
This was our compromise, as we were unable to present the performance we had envisioned. As we regrouped and headed back to the rehearsal space, the choreographer stepped out briefly to consult with the agency staff and returned with affirmative feedback. The practice finally resumed.
***
It was 3 PM. Yoo-Joon and I briefly excused ourselves from the practice room to head over to the KEW broadcasting station for the Graduating show meeting. With our casting already confirmed, this preliminary gathering felt somewhat less daunting.
On our way to the station, Yoo-Joon and I continuously hummed the tunes of the song and kept our practice momentum going. "Red Sun" by Renewal was a coupling track from their debut album, and it had become an anthem among K-pop fans for its catchy melody and compelling high notes.
The song's charm wasn't just in its choreography but in its vibe and the thrilling high notes that defined it.
It was a beloved hit, especially one so cherished by Renewal's fans and the seniors themselves, so it demanded our full dedication to ensure a performance that would live up to its fame. As a result, humming the lyrics of "Red Sun" and practicing its moves became our constant routine, whether before sleeping, upon waking, during meals, or in transit.
Soon enough, our car rolled into KEW's underground parking lot. As we made our way, our manager briefed us on the essentials as always. “The director of Graduating is quite approachable, so just relax and answer any questions with sincerity. And remember, politeness goes a long way."
“Got it."
“There will be a small camera set up on the table for footage purposes. Please be mindful of your words and actions."
As we approached the meeting room, the manager knocked on the door.
“Come in."
“Excuse us," our manager announced as he pushed the door open, revealing the director and the writer greeting us.
“Ah, welcome! Manager, it must be a busy period for you, isn't it?"
“Not at all, thank you for having us." As our manager chatted, the director's gaze shifted toward us.
Yoo-Joon belted out energetically, “On the count of three!"
“Hello, we are Chronos. Thank you for having us!"
“Oh, wow! Such a polite greeting from newcomers. Please, have a seat." We only sat down after our manager signaled us to do so.
“How have you been, Manager Lee? Is Yeong-Yee doing well?"
“She is doing well, thank you. Let's have a meal together after the program, director."
“That sounds great. You are always welcome, Manager Lee."
As we took our seats, the director exchanged pleasantries with our manager before starting the meeting. The camera sitting next to the writer made me slightly nervous, but I remembered our manager's advice and tried not to focus on it too much.
The writer handed us a document. “This is the plan for Graduating: Boys’ High School Edition. You must have heard the gist of it from Manager Lee. It gathers twenty-year-olds who missed out on their school life for a one-month school experience, culminating in graduation."
“Yes, we've been briefed."
The writer unfolded the document as we talked.
“There will be twelve regular cast members. It's an observational reality show filmed by installed cameras, mostly featuring non-celebrities."
“Ah, I see."
“It turns out there will be three celebrities in total. The two of you from Chronos and an actor who has just made his debut—On Ki-Hoon. While the show aims to distribute screen time evenly among the twelve participants, thanks to Manager Lee's request and our need for ratings, we will ensure Chronos gets a bit more focus."
We bowed respectfully in response to the writer's words. “Thank you!"
The director then laughed heartily and teased us like one might scare a child. “You might not want to thank me just yet. I will try to look out for you, but if you are not entertaining, I can't promise anything."
“Ah..."
“I've heard Chronos can be quite shy. Just put in as much effort as in Flying Man. Honestly, you were cast to help boost our ratings." His voice carried warmth, but his serious gaze conveyed a different message. It was as if he was indicating that the grace period for being awkward and unskilled—affectionately known as the newbie phase—had passed.
I exchanged glances with Yoo-Joon, and we both exclaimed in unison, “Yes! We will do our best!" We were determined to fulfill their expectations.
The director and the writer nodded, seemingly pleased with our enthusiastic response. After that, they suggested. "Shall we start chatting then? Knowing more about you will help us highlight your charms better."