Chapter 18: Caught Before I Hit the Ground

Three days after the last shoot, I found myself heading back to the broadcasting station.

This time it wasn’t for filming songs, acting, or dancing—the things I could still manage—but for the ordeal known as the production presentation, following right on the heels of the torture that was the self-introduction video shoot.

Working on the main broadcast was fine so far; all I had to do was learn, act, sing, and dance.

But anything like the self-intro or the production presentation made me feel like my mind was being scraped raw.

I’d spent days agonizing over what to even do for the self-introduction, and now I had no idea what expression or pose I was supposed to make in front of all those people and cameras.

To be honest, I still hadn’t found an answer.

After getting my hair and makeup done as usual and changing into the school-uniform-style group outfit, I got on the bus waiting in the broadcasting station parking lot.

I slumped into a seat and let out a long, heavy sigh—several of them, actually—when Chae Hanul, whom I hadn’t seen in a while, trotted over and plopped down in the seat next to me with a thud.

“Hyung!

Long time no see.

Have you been well?”

“Yeah.

You?”

“I’ve been good!

Well, except I missed you, hyung.”

“Did you now.”

“But hyung, is something wrong?

At this rate you’re gonna blow out the bus engine.”

I wondered how he’d noticed—felt like I’d just gotten on the bus.

But the moment I opened my mouth, another sigh slipped out on its own, and I realized the truth.

It wasn’t when I sighed once.

I’d been sighing nonstop, without even realizing it, from the moment Hanul got on the bus and walked all the way over to me.

But really, I was worried enough for it to show.

“You know… do you— no, never mind.”

“Ugh, seriously!

Hyung, don’t you know the two things that make people the most annoyed?

One of them is when someone starts to say something and then stops!”

“And what’s the other one?”

“I dunno, they didn’t tell me.

Isn’t that so irritating?”

Remembering when he first heard it, Chae Hanul grumbled for a moment, then suddenly went “Ah!” with an even more annoyed expression.

“That’s not the point!

Hyung, why are you changing the subject?”

I’m not the one changing the subject.

You are…

The thought crossed my mind, but I didn’t bother saying it out loud.

He was only seventeen—no need to get into a pointless bickering match with a kid.

More than that, I just didn’t have the energy for conversation right now.

“So?

What is it?

Why were you sighing?”

“Uh… I was just wondering if posing in front of cameras and stuff is something you guys get trained for.”

“At the company?

We do tons of camera tests and get constant feedback, so yeah, I’d say we learn it.”

Honestly, I was starting to wonder if there was anything trainees didn’t learn.

One trainee I’d talked to earlier had said he was learning three foreign languages—English, Japanese, and Chinese.

At this point, their title might be ‘trainee,’ but they were learning, studying, and practicing far more than I was as an actual college student.

Anyway, if most trainees were trained and experienced at standing in front of cameras, then it was obvious that I alone would look absolutely miserable by comparison.

From what I saw of last season, not only reporters but also some contestants’ fans came to take photos.

Not that I expected anyone who could be called my fan to show up—but still, the thought of having to show my awkward, pathetic self in front of the very people who would likely become the most dedicated viewers and voters…

It was hard not to dread it.

“Come on, don’t worry too much.

If learning it meant everyone got good at it, we’d all have A grades, right?”

Well… he wasn’t wrong.

I nodded at Chae Hanul’s attempt at comfort, but the anxiety didn’t fade.

When I imagined myself standing stiffly among contestants who could wink, make hearts, or pose effortlessly—just like in the photos from Season 1’s press event—it would’ve been stranger not to worry.

I swallowed a sigh just as the bus jolted and began to move.

It didn’t take long to arrive at a convention center somewhere in Seoul.

Even before the bus came to a stop—when we were still stuck at a red light—I could already see a massive crowd gathered near the large building.

The sheer size of it made the inside of the bus instantly noisy.

“Are all those people here to see us?”

“Dude, look at the cameras.

Are those the so-called ‘cannons’?”

“I hope at least one person out there is my fan.”

“Holy crap, seeing all those people is making me nervous.”

At that last comment, tension rippled through the bus.

Even the ever-cheerful Chae Hanul gulped as he stared out the window, clearly feeling the pressure.

Well, it made sense.

Please Take Care of My Idol Season 2 was a program where debut was determined 100% by viewer votes.

With stakes that high, the more desperate they were, the more nervous they’d be.

Still, I was just as desperate as the others.

The meaning behind it was completely different, of course, but the fact remained: my life was on the line too.

Just as they desperately wanted to become idols—maybe even full-fledged celebrities someday—I was just as desperate not to end up a grad student, an adult film actor, a rich wife’s affair partner, a host, or any of the other futures the game tried to saddle me with.

And since it wasn’t just the in-game “Sim Jaeseo” but my original life at stake, it was practically two lives hanging in the balance.

…So yes, I was nervous in my own way.

While the contestants—including me—were too tense to talk, the bus began moving again.

Soon, it passed through the convention center entrance and parked along one side of the building.

As we pulled in, people immediately flocked toward the area.

Once staff members finished controlling the press and fans behind the barricades, the bus door finally opened—and countless giant camera lenses lifted in unison, all aimed in our direction.

As contestants stepped out one by one, the sound of camera shutters exploded in rapid bursts.

At that alone, someone went pale, someone else gagged “urgh” like they were about to throw up, and another stumbled off the bus shaking their arm and leg on the same side at the same time.

Clearly, being from an agency and having trained didn’t mean everyone was naturally comfortable in front of cameras.

The thought was a bit petty, but it actually calmed me down.

I mean, it’s not like any of us have debuted yet, and no amount of camera tests would make trainees that comfortable in front of a crowd like this.

Thinking about it rationally, it was obvious—but I’d been so nervous my brain had temporarily shut down.

“Aaahk!

Jaeseo-ya!”

Feeling oddly grounded now that the pressure had eased, I stepped off the bus—only for someone beyond the barricade to scream my name at the top of their lungs.

Startled, I whipped my head around.

A single hand shot up above the forest of cameras, as if claiming responsibility for the shout.

Wondering if I’d misheard, I pointed at myself.

In response, the raised arm waved wildly, as if yelling Yes, you!

Someone… actually came to see me?

A little while ago at school, someone had asked me for an autograph or a photo, but that was probably not because it was me—it was simply because I was a contestant on the famous show My Idol Neighbor.

It made sense.

On the “Me and I” stage, I only had one solo cut, and even that flashed by so quickly you’d miss it if you blinked.

Even the profile photo they released afterward wasn’t anything special.

But that person… is really my fan?

I honestly couldn’t believe it, so I kept turning my head to check.

I met the gaze of the camera lens that had been following me the whole time—only for my foot to suddenly feel the edge of a protruding paving stone.

I tried to avoid tripping, but in the next moment, it felt like something straight out of a horror movie—like someone grabbed my leg from below.

My leg jerked on its own, and my foot caught the bump in the ground.

I tried to steady myself, but it was as if someone shoved me hard; my attempt completely failed, and I pitched forward.

Even the arm I threw out to catch myself wouldn’t move, held down by some unknown force.

The absurdity of the whole thing happened so fast that I couldn’t even scream before I was about to hit the ground face-first—

“…Huh?”

An arm shot out from behind and wrapped around my waist.

Just before my face and body could crash onto the asphalt and get shredded to pieces, that danger barely slipped past me, and the breath I’d been holding burst out all at once.

Hanging in the strong arm gripping my waist, I gasped for air until my mind finally cleared.

After calming my frantic heartbeat, I straightened up and turned around—and a feeling I couldn’t even describe washed over me.

“You okay?”

Once Yeo Hyun-tae confirmed I was standing properly, he let go of my waist.

Seo Jun-jae looked at me with worry filling his eyes and asked if I was alright.

I nodded, still dazed, and thanked them.

Yeo Hyun-tae simply shook his head, as if it was nothing at all.

The frantic clicking of camera shutters that had been exploding nonstop suddenly died out, as if everyone had been stunned by my embarrassing display.

In its place, murmurs spread all around us, filling the area with noise.

Voices asking what happened, whether I was okay, and people shouting my name along with others’ echoed chaotically.

While I just stood there, speechless and dumbfounded, Seo Jun-jae stepped in and told the reporters and fans that I was fine.

And afterward, as we headed into the building where the press conference was going to be held, the two of them stayed on either side of me like they were escorting me.

Yeo Hyun-tae even kept his arm subtly poised near my waist, as if ready to catch me in case I tripped again.

…Once again, it was a feeling I didn’t even know how to put into words.