The Trashy PD Has To Survive as an Idol - Chapter 29

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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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29

I’d said it countless times before.
The first of the three rules I’d laid out!
Never trust anyone from the Broadcasting Station.

“Brother, the vocalist from Nightmare seems really kind.”
“Why?”
“The moment we met, he said I was the most handsome person here. Seriously, and he even gave me a sandwich. Want some?”
“Hey, you ate food from someone you just met? Didn’t I tell you not to do that?”
“It’s delicious!”

Jung Da-jun, eliminated the moment we arrived at the filming set—distracted by food.

The second rule!
Watch your words.

“Oh, that guy from Refined.”
“What about him?”
“We ran into each other in the waiting room at year-end, and his specialty was talking about grades without using his brain… Hyun-sung really got annoyed.”
“…Didn’t I tell you to watch your words?”
“Oops.”

Kang Yi-chae, eliminated—a mouth that showed no discretion regardless of the situation.

The third rule!
Always trust Seo Ho-yoon unconditionally!

“Seo Ho-yoon.”
“What?”
“I… are we really okay with that reaction? Won’t the response be too negative? If we reconsider now….”
“You don’t trust me?”
“When you put it that way, I have nothing left to say….”

Kim Sung-hyun was eliminated due to excessive anxiety.
I’d thought he’d do well enough, but seeing him like this made me worried.

Knock, knock.

A staff member entered the Waiting Room.

“You can enter now. I’ll have the camera follow you.”

I nodded and glanced around.
There was still some time before the Stage. Going in now was just to film the entrance shot.

As I entered the Studio, Nightmare—a first-year Idol Group since their debut—was already there, seated.

“Hello, we’re The Dun.”

Nightmare’s response was extraordinary, as if they were trying to get more camera time with enthusiastic reactions.
After The Dun members bowed and sat down, the other idols entered in sequence.
Refined, Mars, and finally… Today.
I smiled faintly and turned to watch Today, who was greeting everyone with obvious enthusiasm.

“Hello, we’re Today!”
“Nice to work with you!”
“Oh!”
“Today seniors!”
“You placed first last time… four-time winners.”

The other idols around me began to murmur.
I glanced back at my members.

Expressionless.
No comment.
Ignoring them.

‘Good.’

This was what I was supposed to do when Today appeared. Even Kim Sung-hyun, who had been anxious earlier, stared at Today with a face as rigid as stone.
Right, I was told to trust them, you bastard.
I smiled with satisfaction, and my gaze met Yoo Hyuk’s. A faint smirk played at the corners of his mouth before vanishing.
As Today approached the seat where The Dun was sitting, the rookies and nobodies around us stirred with excitement.
And he lowered his voice, offering a subtle greeting.

“Hey.”

This bastard was trying to imitate Joo Woo-sung.

“Hey guys, so… you’re Ho-yoon, right? How have you been? We haven’t slept a wink, you know~. We’ve just been so busy, there was nothing we could do about it.”
“Yes.”

I rested my chin in my hand and gave a curt reply. The members of The Dun already knew my personality and didn’t pay much attention, but the eyes of the junior members of Nightmare trembled with shock.

‘Can you really talk to a senior like that…?’

You shouldn’t.
But if you measure the space where you’ll lie down, you can stretch your legs as you please.

“…?”

Yoo Hyuk was visibly flustered.

“S-Seo Ho-yoon, you must be very nervous, huh?”
“No.”

A crack appeared in Yoo Hyuk’s smiling face.

“…Oh.”

Kim Hee-young, standing at a distance, seemed interested and gestured to the VJ. The camera followed closely. They were probably getting a close-up shot.

How would this air on broadcast? Probably as someone without manners. There was no way to package this as someone who was just nervous.
So what would the public’s reaction be?

-What’s Seo Ho-yoon’s character?
-The way he treats his senior,, really,, it’s disgusting. Young people these days have no manners,,~!
Hahaha, idol catfights are so damn funny lol

Yoo Hyuk and the members of Today’s eyebrows shot up in unison.
I turned my head, meeting each of their gazes deliberately one by one, until my eyes locked with PD Kim Hee-young’s—and I flashed her a grin.

“Senior.”
“What?”
“Do you need a receipt? Why are you even talking to me?”

Yoo Hyuk’s face was worth seeing. His blonde hair contrasted sharply with the crimson flush spreading across his features, making him look like some fresh vegetable.
His trembling hands looked ready to grab me by the collar at any moment, but the cameras kept him in check.

‘That’s what you get for messing with me.’

Ding!

[Your personality really is….]

The world made me this way.

“…Seo Ho-yoon.”
“What?”

As Yoo Hyuk stalked away huffily, Kim Sung-hyun tapped me on the shoulder. My indifferent response earned only a quiet sigh before he turned his gaze forward.
He was following my lead for now, but cold sweat beaded on his skin—anxiety written all over him.

[Junior idol disrespecting a senior in the entertainment industry]—how perfect for a trending YouTube video.

‘Wait, is this actually fine?’

I was genuinely considering it when the MC arrived, and gasps erupted around me.
Long, natural hair that shimmered and swayed with every step—unmistakably a celebrity with that radiant, glamorous face.

“Hello, everyone.”

The nation’s little sister, Yoo Ji-a.

“I’m actress Yoo Ji-a, and I’ll be serving as the MC for Shining Star.”
“Wooow!”
“No way, are you serious? It’s Yoo Ji-a, our senior!”

A person who rose to the rank of the nation’s beloved younger sister with an approachable yet endearing musical image, and later transitioned to acting, steadily building a career as the next generation’s romance-comedy queen.
Since I rarely had occasion to see her, this was my first time laying eyes on Yoo Ji-a.
Refined, sitting beside me, murmured something.

“Wow, she’s really beautiful….”
“But she looks kind of cold.”

‘At least none of The Dun members are the type to say something like that. Thank goodness.’

That kind of comment was exactly the sort that would draw criticism once it aired. Perfect fodder for controversy.
The Dun members applauded in serene silence with gentle smiles. Yes, that was the right approach.
Yoo Ji-a glanced around the venue, then smiled subtly.

“Welcome to Shining Star. Every year, countless idol groups emerge into the industry, but which group will be the one to survive? To determine the very best, we have created this program.”

Yoo Ji-a delivered the opening with gravity. The effect of carefully selected provocative language was evident—several idols tensed visibly, swallowing hard.

“I’ll explain how Shining Star operates. Across six episodes, excluding the initial performance showcase, you will compete in three separate competitions.”

Meanwhile, Today made no effort to hide their bored expression, clearly already familiar with the format.
I clicked my tongue softly and looked away.

“The first and second competitions will be decided through live voting by a small audience, but the final competition will be broadcast live, with the nation voting.”

After finishing her brief explanation, Yoo Ji-a paused deliberately for a moment, then smiled gently.

“But it would be rather cold to start talking about competition right from the beginning, wouldn’t it?”
“….”
“Some of you are meeting for the first time today, and some aren’t. Are you nervous?”
“Yes~!”
“Knowing you would be, I’ve prepared a simple icebreaker to help ease the tension.”
“An icebreaker…?”

As a living tip, whenever broadcasting people offer to do something out of the goodness of their hearts, it’s best to be suspicious first.
Sure enough, Yoo Ji-a began reading from her script calmly.

“We asked each group beforehand to write down their predicted rankings and the reasons behind them… Nightmare’s Lee Han-sung, do you remember?”
“…Oh, yes, yes!”
“Would you mind sharing what you wrote?”
“….”

Lee Han-sung, Nightmare’s youngest member, hesitated. He’d written something when asked, but he seemed worried that once it aired on broadcast, there would be no taking it back.
Maintaining silence was honestly a brilliant response.

“It’s difficult, very difficult indeed… Even I would have struggled to say it.”

If only the other party wasn’t the production staff of an idol competition program.

“So I’ll announce it instead! And right now, I’ll reveal each group’s predicted ranking for themselves!”

On the monitor behind Yoo Ji-a, who smiled brightly while pointing, enormous text appeared.

[Each Group’s Final Ranking Prediction]

“…Gasp.”

They’re revealing this now, like this?
A hollow laugh escaped me. Everyone seemed to stir—clearly they’d written their answers without much thought.
This wasn’t meant to ease tension; it was designed to amplify it.
Kim Hee-young really did structure this program with a sharp edge.

Lol final ranking prediction lol that’s so shameless
[Who would write themselves as 1st place?? Here?? What are the producers thinking?]

The internet was already ablaze with posts like these.
Especially since these weren’t trainees but established idols—this was essentially stoking conflict outright.

“Ho-yoon.”

Sung Ji-won’s complexion had gone pale. I glanced at him before looking away again.
Five groups had gathered in this place.

“Well then, shall we begin? First, we have Nightmare’s final ranking prediction.”

[Nightmare – 3rd Place]

“No, no, this can’t be right!”
“I should have thought it through before writing!”

The Nightmare members stirred restlessly, their embarrassment evident. So Nightmare placed third….
I fell into thought for a moment before the rankings of the other groups followed.

“Next is Refined.”

[Refined – 2nd Place]
[Mars – 2nd Place]

They had tied.

“Did I score them too low?”

Among the restless members, only The Dun remained silent.
I gazed ahead quietly. I could sense the picture the production team was painting. I noticed Yoo Ji-a glancing toward Today.
Yoo Ji-a must understand it too—that this program was rigged.

“Next, Today. Quite an unexpected result given their popularity, wouldn’t you say?”

[Today – 5th Place]

“Oh no, that’s too harsh!”
“How could you reveal it like this~!”

At Today’s whining, Kim Sung-hyun’s expression hardened visibly. The Today members already knew they’d placed first.
The reason they were still complaining was simply to appear humble on camera.
Today’s fans will praise Today, which is made up of adults with trashy personalities, as if they were babies, saying, ‘ㅠㅠ They’re so good as to use something higher,’ and, ‘They’re humble after all.’
Yoo Ji-a, proving her professionalism, showed no emotion whatsoever and simply followed the script’s directions.

“It’s quite disappointing. We had high hopes for Today. I hope you’ll achieve an even better ranking than 5th place.”

Having delivered the lines smoothly, Yoo Ji-a turned toward Today with a warm smile. It was such convincing acting that even Today, who likely knew the flow in advance, would believe it was genuine.

‘So that’s what true professionalism looks like….’

As I was quietly marveling at this, the next group’s ranking appeared.

[The Dun]

So, well.

[1st Place]

A score written with its own significance. I stared silently at the monitor displaying “1st Place” alongside a crown, while beside me, someone’s breathing grew audibly ragged.

“Are you serious?”
“What kind of audacity is that…?”

Their reactions were understandable. We’d gained some traction recently, but compared to other idol groups, our scores didn’t warrant first place.
The snickers and silence hovering throughout the filming set pricked at my skin like needles.
Whatever.
What could I do about it.

“Wow, that’s quite the bold move. The Dun is the only group that wrote down first place. Would you mind saying a few words?”

At Yoo Ji-a’s refreshing smile, only Sung Ji-won nodded like a madman. The staff handed the microphone to me instead.
I slowly scanned the venue.
The Dun members visibly tense, and Today watching with sneers plastered across their faces.
At the end of my gaze, I met Kim Hee-young’s eyes—her expression unreadable. I opened my mouth.

“I wanted to place first, so I wrote down first place.”
“That’s quite confident. Do you have some hidden strategy?”
“Well…”

I turned away from Kim Hee-young’s gaze, looked toward the camera, and smiled faintly.

“I’ll show you on stage.”
“Wooooow!”

At those words, cheers erupted from every group except Today. Seeing them mimic vuvuzelas or whatever those things were, I sat back down.
The members laughed dryly and shook their heads as if exhausted.

“That kind of confidence is wonderful. We’re looking forward to what comes next.”

I bowed slightly toward Yoo Ji-a, and Kang Yi-chae chuckled while patting my shoulder.
As the studio quieted somewhat, Yoo Ji-a’s expression turned mischievous, her lips curling upward.

“Then we’ll proceed with the talent showcase in this order!”
“…?”
“We asked you to prepare a talent showcase in advance. Each group will have one member perform. The Dun, as first place, will be given two special talent showcase opportunities. The team that receives the most votes in the talent showcase will receive a benefit.”
“A benefit?”

Everyone sat there dumbfounded. Yoo Ji-a steadied her breathing.

“Specifically, exclusive special airtime. We’re planning to broadcast this as a fifteen-minute exclusive segment.”
“What?!”

Was she joking?
If I were a fan watching Shining Star right now, I would’ve hurled the remote at the screen.
The fact that something like this was being decided by a single talent showcase was absurd.
I glanced at the Today members and saw nothing but bewilderment on their faces. They clearly hadn’t been informed about any of this.

“Haha!”

Kim Hee-young was bursting into laughter behind the camera. She was clearly trying to give us a bitter pill to swallow, unwilling to let us have it easy.

‘She really hasn’t changed.’

“You were told to prepare, weren’t you? Each of you will show us what you’ve got.”
“Ah, yes, yes.”
“However… we’ll be excluding dance and singing. You can showcase those later on stage.”
“What?! If we exclude dancing and singing, what’s left?”
“Idols are defined by their charm. Beyond good vocals and dance skills, you must be memorable to viewers through something special and vibrant. That’s what we consider true charm.”

Yoo Ji-a had cut right to the point.
…This was going to bring complaints from fans.
Kim Hee-young seemed determined to stir up controversy and set the internet ablaze, ready to sacrifice anyone as a scapegoat regardless of whether this was rigged or not.
Well, I’d expected as much.
After all, The Dun had prepared their talent showcase to match the softer image they wanted to cultivate following their first-place win.

‘I guess I can make do with this…’
‘I’m planning to cook.’
‘…For the talent showcase?’
‘What do you want to eat?’

My true intention was to build a softer image, but Jung Da-jun looked at me as if I were a strange person.
Jung Da-jun fidgeted nervously beside me, fussing with his guitar case, while I found myself thinking about the ingredients I’d brought.
Maybe I should make some hand rolls and pass them around to the cast and crew….

“The talent showcase will be a three-minute time attack.”
“…!”
“Wow, brother.”

Ding!

[So Ho-yoon’s rice isn’t something you want to eat?]

You’re all going to regret this.
You have no idea how delicious my rice is.

I ignored the System Window as Yoo Ji-a gestured toward The Dun. The stage was already set, and the talent showcase had begun. Cold sweat trickled down my back.

“Then, The Dun, please come up.”

‘Damn it, what kind of talent can I pull off in three minutes?’

I nodded at Jung Da-jun, who had been staring blankly.

“Huh, me? I’m going out?”
“Go.”
“Are we really doing this? Wow, but what about you, brother….”
“…Sorry, but I’m counting on you. I trust you.”

Truth be told, he wasn’t particularly trustworthy, but I needed time to figure something out, so I deliberately lowered my eyebrows—and whatever he saw in that expression, Jung Da-jun’s face suddenly filled with emotion.

“Just trust me!!”

Ding!

[Trash!]

Yeah, I’m trash….
Jung Da-jun hesitated for a moment, then seemed to make a firm decision—he squeezed his eyes shut, nodded once, grabbed his guitar case, and jumped to his feet.
Once Jung Da-jun committed to going, he grew so nervous that I could audibly hear him swallow hard.

“Oh… you can play the guitar.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“We said you couldn’t sing, right?”
“Just a guitar might be a bit boring though…. Ah, I really want that fifteen-minute broadcast slot.”

Comments drifted over from those around us.
The broadcast buildup was naturally stacking up on its own.
Jung Da-jun stepped onto the stage with trembling footsteps, gripping the microphone tightly with shaking hands.

“Ah, hello. I’m Jung Da-jun, a backup dancer for The Dun.”
“Yes, Jung Da-jun. I see you’ve prepared quite a lot based on what’s behind you.”
“Yes, yes.”

Jung Da-jun nodded carefully. Yoo Ji-a eased his tension with an encouraging smile.

“Then let’s see it.”

Jung Da-jun’s palms grew sweaty as he repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fists before unzipping the guitar case.

“…?”

The guitar case was completely empty.
Well, actually… there was one thing.

“Huh?”

He pulled out a recorder sitting alone in the empty case. Gripping it firmly with both hands, Jung Da-jun declared confidently.

“I’ll perform ‘Badogi’s Bells.'”

That’s right.
We had chosen the entertainment route.

‘No matter what, the beginning has to be entertainment.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Even if you’re skilled, if the broadcast doesn’t catch it, you’re done for. So the beginning has to be entertainment, no matter what.’

The members who had dismissed it as nonsense gradually fell under the spell of my words. Even Kim Sung-hyun, who had been most reluctant, eventually muttered, “Should we try adding some flair?” That was truly nonsense.

“Hahaha, ahahaha!”

Whether Yoo Ji-a’s comedic timing was naturally like this or if she’d simply lost her composure, genuine laughter burst out.
Jung Da-jun brought the recorder to his lips.

[Do-mi-mi-mi mi re pa-pa-pa-pa pa pa]

It was a beautiful melody.

[Mi-sol-sol sol mi re-pa-mi-re-do~]

“Is this a concours? A concours?”
“What’s with that expression~.”

Regardless of the surrounding reactions,
Jung Da-jun remained utterly serious.
After finishing the entire recorder piece, he wore a satisfied expression as though he’d just performed on the Billboard stage. Even the meticulous way he wiped away a single bead of sweat from his forehead was a perfect finale.

“Thank you. It’s an honor.”
“Haha, that’s adorable, really.”

Yoo Ji-a clenched her teeth to suppress her laughter.
Satisfied with his own performance, Jung Da-jun left the stage cleanly without hesitation.
I was next.

‘Alright, decision made.’

I intercepted Jung Da-jun, who was excitedly trying to give me a high-five, grabbed a chair, and headed up to the stage. Jung Da-jun’s expression turned bewildered.

“Hyung, why?”
“Lend me you for a moment, Jung Da-jun.”
“We never agreed to that!”
“Life’s only fun when you can’t predict what comes next.”
“Huh??”

Jung Da-jun grabbed at me urgently, but I ignored him.
While Jung Da-jun prepared his talent, my mind raced. Something with maximum impact that I could pull off in three minutes—something other than singing or dancing.
A skit? I had no sense of comedy.
A feat of strength? Worn down and exhausted as I was, I lacked the power.
A drinking trick? Honestly, I could pull it off impressively, but it was more of a party gimmick.

“Seo Ho-yoon, are you ready? What will you be showing us?”

I looked at the restless audience and slowly raised the microphone.
That left me with exactly one option.
Entertainment PDs practice their personal talents relentlessly to fulfill their professional duties and survive in this fiercely competitive society. One such technique, desperately deployed at company dinners to carve out a moment of recognition, was—

“I’ll be doing a voice impression.”
“Pardon?”

A classic voice impression.

“I’ve been a fan of Super Singer since the beginning. There’s someone I’ve always been grateful for and admired….”

Super Singer—the program I’d watched diligently back in school and during military service, the one where I’d participated as the youngest in Season 3 and spent all my time editing.
Within that show, there was naturally one judge known to everyone, one whose voice had already been imitated countless times by comedians and celebrities alike.
A voice I’d heard dozens, no, hundreds of times while editing footage.

“I’ll be doing a voice impression of Blue Tiger, composer Lim Hyun-sung.”

Our composer.

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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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