Genius Idol’s Strategy to Conquer the Entertainment Industry

Chapter 25

Trainees of other grades, including the A-grade trainees dancing on the stage over there, craned their necks to see what was going on.

“What’s happening?”

The shooting director and Jo In-soo PD, who came after receiving the radio call, looked up at us from below the stage and asked.

The staff member next to them explained.

“It seems Raon is very exhausted. He has a nosebleed that won’t stop.”

At that moment, I was pressing tissues hurriedly thrown up from below the stage against my nose.

“Look at the blood.”

“Can we keep going like this?”

Trainees glanced at me and whispered.

Anyone would think I was coughing up blood.

I spoke in a muffled voice, my nose stuffed.

“Why are you all so serious?”

“You’re the serious one. You look like a patient on the verge of death.”

Ban Yo-han, frowning, handed me a fresh white tissue, which quickly got soaked with blood.

Now that I saw it, my hand, which I had urgently used to cover my nose initially, was covered with dried blood, and blood drops were scattered at my feet.

I thought the others were overreacting because they wanted a break.

‘…Does it really look that serious from the outside?’

A staff member who had been looking at me sympathetically while handing me tissues asked.

“Raon, can you continue?”

Would they really not make me do it if I said no?

Such thoughts spun around in my head, making me dizzy.

The shooting director scolded me in a dissatisfied tone.

“Raon, if you’re in such bad shape, you should have said so in advance. Don’t you know managing your condition is a skill?”

If we had appropriate rest breaks, this wouldn’t have happened in the first place.

But the words that came out of my mouth were as mild as could be. They were the boss, and I was the subordinate.

“I’m sorry….”

[The effect of the trait ‘Inborn Pitiful’ softens the hearts of many.]

The expressions of the shooting director and Jo In-soo PD visibly softened.

Lately, I’ve been thinking this trait is a bit of a cheat. Compassion is something everyone has, after all.

Seizing the moment, I put on an even more pained and exhausted expression.

Ban Yo-han, who was next to me, looked at me as if to say, ‘What are you doing?’ and this notification appeared.

[Many people are taken in by your performance, where the current situation and your appearance create synergy. Acting +2]

Does this mean my appearance looks pitiful?

Should I be happy about this or not?

Anyway, the shooting director and Jo In-soo PD couldn’t completely ignore this sudden situation.

If the news spread that the trainees were being overworked, it could turn into a scandal.

A journalist looking for a scoop could easily turn a nosebleed into something much more serious.

To avoid leaving a stain on a program where public interest was paramount, it was better to allow a bit of rest.

Indeed, the shooting director gave a directive.

“Take a 20-minute break!”

“Thank you!”

This break was obtained with my sacrifice. Cherish it.

Perhaps realizing that someone might collapse (like me), the shooting director ensured we got breaks from then on.

My fatigue level would build up to just before reaching 100 during rehearsals, then drop slightly, and build up again repeatedly.

Knowing there was a nasty penalty called ‘status effect,’ I checked my fatigue level every chance I got.

I can’t count how many times I panicked seeing my fatigue level hit 95.

“Guys, let’s do the same tomorrow.”

Satisfied that he had pushed the trainees to his liking, the shooting director said.

“Good job, manage your condition well, and see you tomorrow.”

Though he glanced at me briefly, Jo In-soo PD, who didn’t miss capturing the F-grade trainees crying during the early rehearsal, also looked satisfied.

* * *

The next day, the gym where we came for pre-recording was bustling compared to yesterday.

The message we received instructed us to go to the temporary makeup room inside the gym, where trainees who arrived first were busily getting styled.

The group outfits were various styles of school uniforms.

I got a neat navy blazer, while Kim Jun-woo received an old-style uniform called gakuran in Japanese.

Each had a cherry-colored heart badge pierced by a golden arrow on the chest.

The white shirts and beige pants were all the same, but the neckwear varied.

Most were wearing red ties, but there were also bow ties and ribbon ties in the same color.

The stylist tied a thin, long ribbon tie around my neck.

After putting on the outfit, we got our makeup done.

Due to the large number of people and the fact that trainees still needed to look pure, the makeup wasn’t as heavy and flashy as stage makeup, but it was much better than nothing.

[If you draw lines on a pumpkin, it becomes a watermelon. Charm +15 during pre-recording.]

Hey, game system, I’m not a pumpkin, alright? I’m an unripe watermelon.

Curious about the improvement, I looked in the mirror and saw that my previously dull appearance had improved a bit.

The makeup artist also admired how well the makeup suited me.

My charm almost doubled with just one makeup session. Even doubled, I still had a long way to go.

“Those who are ready, please come out and wait!”

After a while, all 100 trainees were ready and headed to their designated spots on and around the heart stage.

The positions were determined during yesterday’s rehearsal.

The mentors, including Jena, also arrived.

They chatted among themselves with soft expressions while watching us on stage, and the camera captured the scene.

“We’re starting the recording!”

Ear-piercing music echoed in the spacious gym.

Under the slightly lighter rose-colored lighting than yesterday, we danced and lip-synced a song we must have danced to at least three hundred times since the program started.

When I meet your eyes

When you call my name

I aim at your heart

Heart a-ttae-ttae-tack!

As the dance ended and I lifted my head, countless petals gently fell towards us, and a small, vivid sense of joy surged from my toes.

I won’t let you regret it

Your choice will be perfect

Hold my hand before it’s too late

I couldn’t help but smile as I withdrew my outstretched hand.

Was it the sense of achievement from clearing a stage?

At the same time, a very slight, really tiny sadness crept in, knowing this was just a game, which made my smile fade.

Realizing this, I quickly adjusted my expression.

With many cameras moving around, filming the trainees, I couldn’t let my guard down.

“You did well! This is how you should have done it from the beginning.”

Hearing the shooting director’s generous words, the trainees, recognizing today wouldn’t be as hard as yesterday, caught their breath and smiled.

Thankfully, the recording ended after about ten takes.

Even though it was the main broadcast, we put in our best effort for each take, so our energy drain felt similar to yesterday’s.

After confirming the end of the stage shoot, the mentors approached with microphones and began speaking one by one.

I didn’t expect you to do this well. You’ve worked hard. This is just the beginning. You look like idols. Keep doing better. Don’t think this is the end. A-grade shouldn’t get complacent.

Then, Jena, holding the mic, said something completely unexpected.

“I heard someone had a nosebleed from exhaustion yesterday.”

“It was On Raon!”

The trainees from Team Hyesung responded particularly loudly. You don’t need to answer that, guys….

“Raon? Oh my, you’ve worked hard. But make sure to manage your stamina, okay?”

This is why behaving well is important. When Jena said it, it sounded like meaningful advice, unlike when the shooting director said it.

I answered politely to Bright Jena, and she smiled and encouraged the other trainees as well.

The trainees listened to her words with moved expressions.

“Don’t forget that you’re only standing at the starting line now. But you all did very well. I’m really proud of you. You’ve all worked hard.”

“Thank you for your hard work!”

The first task was over.

* * *

The very next day, the trainees gathered in front of the Sangam ALT Center, the headquarters of the Music Box channel that broadcasts Pick Heart.

It was for a mini fan meeting, the first event where 100 trainees would officially appear in front of the public.

The trainees dressed in the same uniforms as yesterday.

Today, we also received name tags to pin on our chests along with the heart badges, so people could know the names of the trainees they were seeing for the first time.

Except for a few who had already debuted once, most trainees didn’t have fans yet, but it was only proper to give something to the fans who came to the event.

To prepare for this, we wrote handwritten letters on palm-sized cards.

These cards, along with some simple souvenirs prepared by the production team, were to be placed in paper bags and given to the fans.

Since there weren’t enough desks, trainees were writing letters wherever there was a flat surface.

Some were even lying on the bare floor to write. There wasn’t enough space to worry about getting clothes dirty.

Foreign trainees who didn’t know Korean had their phones open to translation apps, slowly drawing the characters.

I wondered if they could write two pages like that, but that would show their sincerity.

After a while, the staff started walking around, shouting that we needed to wrap up and move within five minutes.

The trainees, including me, worked even faster.

I finished my third letter just as time

was up.

The staff began distributing paper bags with the Pick Heart logo, matching the number of letters each trainee wrote.

Holding the paper bags, we toured the headquarters building, greeting the employees.

The sight of 100 trainees swarming together was really chaotic.

What am I doing here? I felt a moment of reality check, but thinking of it as a school field trip to a broadcasting station made me feel a bit better.

“We are the Pick Your Heart 3 trainees! Please take care of us!”

Finally, after greeting everyone on the last floor, we could go outside.

Even before we stepped out, we heard a buzzing sound.

The staff, facing the naturally distracted trainees, raised their voices, giving instructions on what to do and how to do it.

The trainees responded loudly with “Yes!” trying to hide their nervousness.

Their eyes were fixed beyond the closed glass doors.

Through the glass doors, we saw fences set up around a central space and people crowded outside them.

Of course, most of the people gathered were young women.

Many held expensive-looking cameras.

There were even people standing on ladders, trying to get a head above the rest.

As soon as the people outside spotted the trainees, they started calling out names, making the scene even more chaotic.