The Trashy PD Has To Survive as an Idol - Chapter 8

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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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08

[Professor… at this rate, I’ll be buried in the school back mountain before I even graduate. Why do I even need to go to school?]
[And why isn’t Black Call making a comeback? Does the agency hate working or something??]

The graduate student posting on social media cursed out her professor once again today.
They say late-blooming fandom is the scariest kind. Back in school, I’d kept my fandom light and casual, but everything changed three years ago when I met Joo Woo-sung from Black Call.

‘This bastard… he really is handsome….’

I’d shed tears while retweeting a photo of Joo Woo-sung from nearly three months ago on social media.
Black Call was a male idol group launched with great ambition by a major entertainment agency years ago, and they were unquestionably the top-tier idols in South Korea.
Joo Woo-sung was originally known as the “muggle gateway,” but once I fell in, I’d become a genuine hardcore fan.
Posting complaints about the agency with frustration simmering beneath the surface, I suddenly got a star notification from Joo Woo-sung.

“Huh…?”

Insane—was this finally it?
#Ad #The guy who posts nothing but brand names day and night without properly showing his face had been driving me crazy.
But today he’d finally posted a proper photo of himself!
Happily scrolling through, I frowned at the next video that appeared.

“What is this?”

***

[Dae Pa-sung Entertainment]

Only two days had passed, but with so much happening, it felt like I hadn’t been here in ages.
After visiting Joo Woo-sung’s apartment, the company building looked even more dilapidated, and I couldn’t help but sigh. Still, my phone harbored a powerful weapon.
As I stepped into the building, I spotted Jung Da-jun fidgeting nervously in the lobby.

“Hyung?”
“Yeah.”

Jung Da-jun’s eyes went wide, and he rushed toward me, grabbing my arm and tugging urgently.

“Ho-yoon, why haven’t you been answering your calls?”
“Hmm… your diction’s pretty good.”
“Ah, hyung!”

His relentless questioning was making my ears bleed. I gently extracted my arm from his grip and asked.

“You’ve been well?”
“You’ve been well?”

Kang Yi-chae suddenly appeared beside me. He shook his head with a goofy grin plastered across his face.

“It’s been insane these past two days.”
“Sung-hyun hyung went absolutely ballistic… The atmosphere was seriously suffocating. Ji-won hyung tried to smooth things over… but that’s not the important part. So you’ve finally given up?”
“Given up on what?”
“Huh? Didn’t you come because you couldn’t get the song?”

These guys really don’t have much faith in me, do they?
I pressed down firmly on the back of Jung Da-jun’s head as he gazed up at me innocently. The moment he yelped in pain and couldn’t dodge, my eyes met Kang Yi-chae’s. A flicker of suspicion crossed his gaze.
Kang Yi-chae—I’d thought it before, but he’s got that crazy streak while somehow being perceptive as hell.
Kang Yi-chae asked.

“For real?”
“For real.”

I answered flatly. Kang Yi-chae still harbored doubts about me, but he obediently headed toward the practice room.
Inside, Kim Sung-hyun and Sung Ji-won were having a serious conversation. The moment they saw my face, they both shot to their feet.

“You’re here?”
….

Kim Sung-hyun glanced sideways at me. I could feel Sung Ji-won’s awkward gaze as well.
Why did their expressions look so dark?

“Ho-yoon.”

Sung Ji-won hesitated before approaching me.

“You’ve been through a lot.”

Huh?

“Composer Lim Hyun-sung, I heard she has a rough personality and a sharp tongue…. Did she say anything too harsh to you?”

This was an unexpected turn of events.
Sung Ji-won was apparently offering me consolation under the assumption that I’d failed.

“I heard plenty.”
“W-what did she say?”
“Crazy bastard, lunatic, son of a bitch… I heard every insult in the book.”

Lim Hyun-sung’s tongue was indeed as sharp as advertised.
As I objectively listed out the things I’d heard, the practice room—already tense as a bomb about to detonate—grew even heavier with silence.

“Hyung….”
“Oh no….”

Jung Da-jun’s face looked as though the world itself had come to an end. I thought Kim Sung-hyun would mock me, but he surprisingly held his tongue, gauging my mood instead.

“…Right, you worked hard. Don’t be too discouraged about not getting the song….”
“What are you talking about? When did I say I didn’t get it?”
“Huh?”
“Of course I got it. I said I’d bring it back, didn’t I?”

They all stared blankly, unable to process reality.
I walked past them toward the speaker, connecting my phone to it. The speaker was pretty shabby. I’d have to buy a new one once I got paid.
Then I played the audio file I’d received on my phone earlier. I remembered the call when Lim Hyun-sung had sent me the file.

[Hey, I’m serious… inspiration just struck me like a thunderbolt. Am I insanely talented or what?]
“Yeah….”
[Are you even listening, you bastard?]

At first, it was just muffled noise—as if underwater.
Then, after a moment, a sharp crackling sound cut through, and the audio suddenly became clear, as if awakening from a daze. An intense electronic beat kicked in.

[Got so into it that I just threw in everything. There are still parts I’m not happy with, so I’m planning to change them.]

In any case, a perfectionist. I’d thought she wouldn’t do it, but Lim Hyun-sung actually recorded the guide vocal herself. The temporary lyrics had been fitted to match the concept I’d conveyed.
Her voice was husky and distinctly feminine, but there was no problem transposing it down to a male key.

[Say it once more—this is where we start
I will come back everytime
This strange déjà vu, don’t let it frighten you
No, there’s nothing to fear]

‘The lyrics fit surprisingly well too.’

You didn’t even need to mention it was a Blue Tiger track—it was unmistakably hers.
The beat she loved, the melody, the concept, the style.
After all that complaining, she’d actually pulled out a beat and melody that were absolutely exquisite.

‘You’re good, Lim Hyun-sung. Really good.’

Three minutes and forty seconds later, the song ended.
It was genuinely well-crafted. With more detailed planning and narrative layered on top, and once I had Lim Hyun-sung revise the lyrics, it would be ready to go.

“What do you think?”

I turned to the members with a subtly satisfied expression. I’d expected them to jump up excitedly, but instead they all just….

“….”
“….”

Silence.

“What’s wrong? Still skeptical?”

I was genuinely considering whether I needed to call Lim Hyun-sung on video to prove it wasn’t Blue Tiger, when Sung Ji-won shook his head. He understood, apparently.

“I believe you.”

Then what’s with this silence? What is this?

“How you got it, how you know her… setting that aside for now.”
“….”

In the midst of it all, Kim Sung-hyun opened his mouth. He seemed hesitant.

“This is ours, right?”
“Of course.”

I didn’t bother mentioning that I’d received it through a talent donation.
Kang Yi-chae remained silent for a long moment before finally speaking.

“…The song is incredible.”

But then, at those words, Jung Da-jun suddenly sniffled. Everyone was taken aback. I was the most bewildered.

“Are you crying?”
“No, I’m not crying…. Ugh, how embarrassing.”
“Why are you crying?”

Usually, when you ask someone who’s crying why they’re crying, there’s no answer. But I couldn’t help asking out of sheer confusion.
Instead of Jung Da-jun, who was too busy pretending not to cry while sniffling, Sung Ji-won patted his shoulder and explained on his behalf.

“I think it’s because the song is so good. We actually received a track like what you’d only expect from a major entertainment agency. It’s just hard to believe.”
“Hic….”
“Da-jun has been through a lot emotionally this past year.”

Ah, at least he wasn’t saying he disliked it.
Jung Da-jun continued sniffling, unable to compose himself at Sung Ji-won’s kind words.
That’s when Kang Yi-chae suddenly jumped up and started clapping.

“Let’s all give ourselves a round of applause. Applause for us, freed from Pineapple’s curse. And another round for that bastard Seo Ho-yoon!”

At least the mood shifted. I was grateful that Kang Yi-chae seemed mentally resilient.
No one said anything, but they all seemed grateful to me. Even Kim Sung-hyun.

“…You worked hard.”

He never directly said thank you, though.

‘Phew….’

I quickly revised my image.

‘These idiots might end up co-signing something they’ll regret….’

They were all so naive. I waited with a lukewarm expression for this suddenly warm atmosphere to settle down. And just as Jung Da-jun stopped sniffling, I clapped my hands sharply.

“Alright, everyone. Let’s talk about this.”

At the mention of having a discussion, the other members clamped their mouths shut, awkwardly staring at each other’s faces as they wondered what I’d say next.
Knowing they’d be this defenseless and unprepared, I nodded and tossed them a printout I’d prepared. Kang Yi-chae, sitting closest, caught it deftly.

“What’s this?”
“Materials.”
“What kind of materials…?”
“Getting a song isn’t the end of it, is it? Choreography, lyrics, concept—I’ve pulled together every trend that matters right now.”
“So…?”

The moment Jung Da-jun looked bewildered, Kang Yi-chae and Kim Sung-hyun were already scanning the materials, catching on.
Right—idols need sharp instincts.

“Come back with a concept tailored to the song.”
“Huh?”
“We can’t just apply Pineapple’s concept here. I’ll tell the CEO we need to completely overhaul it.”

Normally, you’d nail down the concept first, then move to composition and lyrics, and finally choreography. But we only had a month left.
Better to approach it like we’re already dead.
Everyone’s energy sharpened—they nodded their heads like they’d lost their minds.

“We’ll work hard.”
“Yeah! Let’s do this!”
“It’s two o’clock right now, right?”
“Yeah!”

I checked my phone.

“Get it done by three. Then we’re going into the concept meeting.”

Time for you all to earn your keep.

“This is insane….”
“No. We can do it.”

The Manager and Jung Da-jun stood frozen with their mouths agape as Sung Ji-won shot to his feet, his eyes blazing with intensity.
I’ll handle this one.
I gestured toward the Manager.

“Come with me.”
“Me? Why me?”
“Huh? Where’s Seo Ho-yoon going? Aren’t we supposed to do this together?”

No. Of course, having been a PD, I could sketch out concepts with my eyes closed, but right now there was something far more pressing.
I pointed upward in response to Kang Yi-chae’s question.

“Meeting with the CEO.”

Everyone’s jaws dropped.

“A, a direct confrontation?”
“So we’re scrapping everything and starting over.”
“Ho-yoon, I’m sorry for putting this burden on you.”
“….”

Ding!

[…Hmm…. Uh….]

Even the System Window, which had been needling me relentlessly, fell silent and let out a sigh at these hopelessly naive members.

“That’s enough.”

I turned away and grabbed the Manager, striding purposefully toward the CEO’s Office.
The Manager fidgeted nervously, but business had to be handled.

“You said you finished revising the contract?”
“Y-yes, but there’s no need to involve the CEO….”
“We need to consult with him about the complete overhaul of the concept anyway.”

That was just an excuse, though.
I needed to have a one-on-one showdown with the CEO.
When I arrived at the CEO’s Office, the same CEO I’d seen before was still frowning at his documents.

“What?”
“Hello. I’m Seo Ho-yoon.”
“Ah….”
“Are you here about the contract?”

The CEO’s face scrunched up sharply.

“Yes. Thought I’d handle both matters at once.”
“For crying out loud. Next time, at least call ahead. You keep just showing up out of nowhere….”

I couldn’t trust him—that was the real issue.
With less than a month until my comeback, and nothing—absolutely nothing—prepared at this godforsaken entertainment company, I simply couldn’t trust him.
When I said nothing, the CEO sighed and gestured to the Manager.

“The contract.”
“Yes, sir!”

The Manager rushed over with it. I sat down and quickly scanned through the document.
Most people in their early twenties—especially those who’d been grinding away in practice rooms as idols—wouldn’t even know what this was and would just stamp it without thinking.

“Turns out there wasn’t a proper contract on file. So I redrafted it to meet standard industry terms.”

The Manager launched into a detailed explanation. I flipped through the roughly ten-page document with indifference before asking.

“Did you tell the CEO that I’m scrapping the original concept?”
“Huh? Oh, well… I mentioned it in passing….”

Clearly, he’d glossed right over it.

“You’re scrapping the concept? Why?”
“It’s a waste of time.”

I watched the CEO’s brow furrow. He probably thought I was just being reckless.
That’s when the Manager suddenly jumped in from the side.

“No, no—Ho-yoon isn’t just talking! He actually got a song from Blue Tiger!”

‘Damn it.’

I’d been saving those words for a decisive moment. They were meant to be encouraging, but I’d lacked the sensitivity to read the room.
I cast a cold glance at the Manager before turning my attention to the CEO. His expression was intrigued.

“From Blue Tiger?”

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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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