Became The Leader of a Girl Group Destined To Fail - Chapter 16

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 16.

A few days after the mentors were assigned.
The trainees consulted with their assigned mentors and prepared for the competition stage.
The mid-evaluation stage was one where the arrangement hadn’t been finalized.
Though this mission was a “senior idol cover,” it didn’t mean we were supposed to replicate it exactly.
In fact, reproducing it faithfully would be a negative factor.
Could there be a cover that surpassed the original?

“You can’t approach a cover stage thinking you’ll surpass the original artist.”

In the early morning, in one of the few Practice Rooms without cameras installed.
Seo Baek-young lay sprawled on the Practice Room floor as she spoke.
In her hand, she held a carrot sliced into long strips.

“You have to think of it as a different stage that just happens to use the same song. Because no matter what—”
“There’s no way you could surpass the original artist who trained for hundreds of days, or years.”

I nodded in agreement.
It was obvious. If I went in thinking I could surpass the original, I’d only earn the hatred of the original song’s fans.
Rather than such ambition, I needed to approach it with a different kind of charm.
It was a remake, not an attempt to surpass.

“Right. My mentor mentioned that too.”
“Which mentor were you assigned?”
“Jin-hwa sunbae.”

Ah.
I nodded immediately.
Greysh’s main dancer.
Already someone called one of the top dancers among idols.
A perfect fit for Seo Baek-young, whose strength lay in dancing.

“That worked out well. Is she helping you?”
“Yeah. We already knew each other beforehand. And she’s so skilled.”

That’s a relief.
I quickly pushed aside my anxiety about Seo Baek-young.

“But here’s the thing.”
“Yes?”

Seo Baek-young’s expression was complicated, as if she couldn’t understand.

“Why didn’t you take away the mentor?”

I’d been wondering when this question would come up.
I shrugged.

“There’s no need to take them away. I decided to get help from the other trainees instead. Fortunately, they all agreed to help.”

The moment my deal with Oh PD was finalized, he attached a camera to me.
And he even captured the touching scene of me securing cooperation from the other trainees.
…Of course, to be honest, most of them probably didn’t help me out of genuine emotion or friendship.
How could they refuse with a camera right in front of them?
If they’d refused, it would have sparked a controversy about their character.

“Does that… does that even make sense?”

As expected, Seo Baek-young, who had a pragmatic side, couldn’t accept it at all.

“No matter how hard we work, we’re still just trainees in the end. We can’t beat the mentors.”
“I know.”
“Then why? Are you trying to manage your image?”

Ouch.
That was a painful question.

“I can’t say it’s not a factor. Honestly, if I’d taken the mentor there, I would’ve gotten some criticism.”
“Criticism is temporary anyway. Everyone would think it’s unavoidable-”
“I don’t trust the Broadcasting Station, and I don’t trust Oh PD.”

I spoke firmly.

“If you want to debut here too, don’t trust him.”
“…!”

And it wasn’t just any PD—it was Oh PD. Seven years from now, there would be several celebrities retiring because of Oh PD, for crying out loud.

“Wait… so you’re confident then? You only ask the other trainees for advice when the cameras are rolling anyway.”
“Everyone’s busy, so…”
“So from the start, you never intended to accept our help. You were just going to do it all yourself, weren’t you?”

I’d been caught.
To be honest, I was more accustomed to being the producer myself.
Why would I ask fledglings for help?
If anything, I was the one who should be subtly helping them.
I pondered how to respond.

“I’m just not very accustomed to receiving help from others. I apologize for that.”
“What’s there to apologize for? I’m just grateful you didn’t steal our mentor.”
“I appreciate you thinking that way. But others might not see it the same way.”

Kim Ryeo-yu, for instance.
Seo Baek-young didn’t refute me, as if she’d read my thoughts exactly.

“Did you finish the arrangement?”
“Of course. It’ll have quite a different vibe from the original.”

I’d upgraded it even more than the mid-evaluation performance.
I deliberately hadn’t shown the completed stage during the mid-evaluation.
There was no real need to hide it, but where’s the fun in that?

“I didn’t know you could arrange music yourself.”
“No one would have known.”

Because the arrangement ability wasn’t Yun Chung’s—it was mine, Baek Nok-ha’s.
But Seo Baek-young didn’t interpret it that way; her expression showed guilt.
She seemed to remember how dismissively she’d treated Yun Chung not long ago.
That wasn’t what I meant to imply.
Well, I wouldn’t bother correcting her.

“Aren’t you worried?”

Seo Baek-young looked at me with worried eyes.
Here she was, concerned for others when she had her own troubles to worry about.
You’re a natural-born leader.
I blinked at the unfamiliar sensation.

“This stage is important, you know that, right? Of course, every stage is important… but this is our first mission.”
“Yes, it is.”

I was an idol, but I’d never been part of an idol group.
I debuted as a solo artist from the start.
Considering how many solo idols emerge after group activities, my path was far from common.
Perhaps that’s why I didn’t fully understand what group activities entailed.
Everything I knew came indirectly through friends who’d been in idol groups.
I couldn’t claim I’d never envied them.
Being alone was always lonely, and it was always unsettling.
The relationship of “member” in an idol group seemed truly special.
Comrades, allies, friends, colleagues.
Something that encompassed all of those.
That bond was certainly enviable. After all, even a single sheet of paper becomes stronger when held together.
Of course, I’d also witnessed how a single member’s mistake could collapse an entire group.
So I had no regrets about being solo.
But—

“I won’t let you down.”

Having someone worry about me like this wasn’t so bad after all.

***

The day of the competition drew steadily closer.
As always, I practiced until 2 AM before preparing to leave.
The moment I finished cleaning the Practice Room, locked the door, and stepped out—

“Hello.”

A soft voice reached my ears.
A voice with excellent resonance and beautiful timbre.
This was….

“Hi.”

It was Ryu Bora.
A voice perfectly suited for acting—powerful yet steady.
Not the kind of voice you’d describe as songbird-like, but something with real depth to it.

“Heading out now?”
“Yeah, you too?”
“Yes, me as well.”

Still here at this hour.
She’s quite dedicated. I nodded in acknowledgment.

“Your mentor was Sayoon, right?”
“Yes. I’m covering Sayoon’s solo track.”

Sayoon from White Noise.
An all-rounder without a specific main position, yet her charm was among the most distinctive in the group.
And she was the only member to release a solo album.
That album was a massive success. Doesn’t seem to weigh on her at all.
She must be bolder than she appears.
Though her delicate features make her look like a fawn that might collapse at any moment.

“Good work. See you next time.”

Just as I was turning to leave with a casual farewell,

“Unnie.”

Ryu Bora stopped me.

“Hmm?”
“Geum said she wanted to get closer to you.”

Geum… she must mean Kim Geum, right?
Kim Geum, out of nowhere?
I couldn’t respond to such an unexpected topic.

“Word’s already spreading about how well you arrange songs. The producer said he didn’t need to make any further edits to your arrangements.”

Well, that’s just….
I shrugged my shoulders.

“Thanks for the compliment.”
“That’s why Kim Geum seems to have her eye on something.”
“Her eye on something?”
“She thinks if she debuts with you, you two could make songs together. Two people are easier than one, after all.”

Kim Geum and Ryu Bora.
Both were strong candidates I wanted to debut with.
There was no need to speak of Kim Geum’s abilities. Even after StillBlue collapsed, her talent kept her from falling with it.
If anything, she thrived even more.
Not just “good for an idol,” but genuinely, undeniably talented.
But Ryu Bora….

“What about you?”

She didn’t debut as an idol.
Nor did she return to acting.
Ryu Bora simply vanished—she’d retired from the entertainment industry entirely.

“Sorry?”

Ryu Bora’s eyes wavered slightly.

“Do you want to debut with me?”
“…Of course. Naturally.”

Ryu Bora’s face shifted instantly, as if a mask had been fastened in place, and she offered that familiar warm smile.

“Debuting with someone as talented as you—that’s something anyone would welcome.”

It sounded utterly sincere, but I could feel it wasn’t.
The flawless acting of a true actress.
Damn, she’s really beautiful. I muttered to myself.
How did she manage to live as an ordinary person with that face?

“Anyway, next time Kim Geum is practicing, take a look at her. She might not look like much, but the girl has a good heart.”
“I will.”

Well, there was nothing bad about getting closer to Kim Geum.
Though it was surprising that Kim Geum and Ryu Bora were close.
Come to think of it, they were the same age. Eighteen.

“Yes, then please go in.”

Ryu Bora said that and bowed her head.
So polite and courteous.
…Though I could feel an incredibly thick wall between us.
Ryu Bora didn’t particularly wait for my greeting and immediately turned away.

“Bora.”

I called out to stop her.

“Besides Geum, do you not need help with practice?”

Ryu Bora stood still without turning around.
Then she answered.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”

Hmm.
I could definitely feel that wall.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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