Chapter 23.1

At first, Choi Hyun Hee got along well with Jang Hye Joon. Both had easygoing personalities, and they were just one year apart in age. Unlike me, who awkwardly brushed off any conversation with a vague smile whenever I ran out of words, Hye Joon spoke clearly, remarkably mature for someone just nineteen.

Of all the nineteen-year-olds at R&M, Jang Hye Joon had the best social skills—I could guarantee that. Even though Tae Rim and I had lived up to age thirty-two in our previous lives, our interpersonal skills were still worse than the actual nineteen-year-old Hye Joon.

So, Hyun Hee—who had started social life early at eighteen—and Hye Joon, who had naturally good social skills at nineteen, naturally clicked.

One had been about to be bundled off to another company with Myeong In Woo, and the other was ready to quit idol life altogether if he failed this debut survival, so they easily bonded over their shared worries.

Without my interference, they quickly became close on their own. They matched so well that for a while I thought they’d completely forgotten I was the one who’d introduced them.

I even overheard them planning to apply together to H University’s music department through special admissions if their idol careers failed. While Jang Hye Joon clearly wanted to debut despite his parents’ opposition, Hyun Hee genuinely seemed serious about considering other paths.

Honestly, if it were up to me, I’d prefer letting Choi Hyun Hee go. If I could’ve drastically reduced the number of members debuting in Reverb, I wouldn’t have personally stepped in to manage him this closely, knowing how badly he broke down in our previous life.

But without Hyun Hee, the group was bound to fall apart. Didn’t Tae Rim and Hyun Hee handle most of Reverb’s important decisions last time? With Tae Rim clearly not on my side now, I needed Hyun Hee stable—not just for my own security, but for the group’s future. Besides, even without my intervention, Hyun Hee’s debut was practically guaranteed.

It was impossible to significantly boost his dancing skills overnight, but I could at least help him get the basics right. If he learned how to keep his movements clean and controlled, he could go from embarrassingly stiff to at least average.

So, I tried to encourage Hyun Hee enough so he wouldn’t give up midway. Even after several days practicing together, his hopeless body showed no meaningful improvement, though he was slightly better than before.

It’s impossible for someone bad at dancing to suddenly become a dancing machine just by practicing for a few years. Talent is simply beyond what hard work alone can overcome.

But reducing how often he’d get criticized as the group’s dancing black hole wasn’t impossible. Even if he had to be quietly hidden during dance breaks, as long as his shortcomings weren’t blatantly obvious, that would be enough.

If he gradually improved, fans would later praise him as a growth-type idol and shield him from criticism. Even starting from rock bottom, he had to show gradual improvement.

If Hyun Hee felt firsthand that he was improving, he’d eventually abandon the idea of quitting idol life to apply to H University’s special admissions. And the frustration and sense of defeat that followed him around every season like a cold would lessen as well.

So, I told him, half-sincerely:

“I think you’re definitely going to debut.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. I think you’ll place high on Pick Your Romeo and debut easily.”

I could speak sincerely because, in our previous life, Choi Hyun Hee really did debut after ranking third on Pick Your Romeo. There’s always demand for men with snake-like features. Koreans especially go wild over monolidded handsome guys.

Besides, Hyun Hee took care of others sincerely, which led to scenes of him helping fellow trainees frequently getting caught on camera. He earned plenty of votes simply by being reliable. His kindness was his greatest strategy.

“You usually don’t say things you don’t mean, but sometimes you say things I really want to hear.”

“I’m not just saying this to make you feel good—I really mean it. After a few days of practicing together, you’re better than when we first started.”

Though, of course, he was still hopeless. He’d progressed from totally awkward to vaguely rhythmic, but he still wasn’t good. I couldn’t lie and say he was talented even if my life depended on it. Yes, he improved, but he’d gone from 0 to 1, not from 99 to 100.

“If you really can’t trust me, let’s make a bet.”

“A bet?”

“I’m betting you’ll debut with me.”

“……”

“If I win, no matter what happens from now on, you’re on my side.”

Those words seemed to touch some strange nerve within Hyun Hee. I hadn’t meant to comfort or encourage him—I genuinely intended it as a bet.

With Myeong In Woo leaving, Hwang Eui Jae joining, and Shin Ji Oh quitting, many things had drastically changed from my previous life. R&M’s twenty-two male trainees had shrunk to twenty, with another trainee following Shin Ji Oh out.

• Author
• Recent Posts

NootNoot

Latest posts by NootNoot (see all)