Little Pink Starfish

The leader of Drop Out, Shido, looked around at the members and opened his mouth.

“What should we do?”

Honestly, if it weren’t for NOP, it was a song they wouldn’t have even listened to.

There was a long backstory, but in short, BVB’s A&R team leader was hoping that Drop Out would reject the song.

The composer had insisted on playing it but asked them to pass on it because he wanted it to be NOP’s title track.

It was a cunning move by Team Leader Seo Seung-hyun, aimed at exploiting the classic “if your cousin buys land, you get jealous” mentality.

And Drop Out, caught in that trap, fell into deep conflict.

“ — if we don’t take it, NOP will, right? NOP’s been on fire lately…”

“More than that, don’t you just want to sing it?”

“What if we make it a double title?”

“Worth considering.”

“The composer didn’t want it as a B-side, right?”

“Confident guy.”

“Let’s be real. The song’s good. Way too good to just be a B-side.”

Drop Out had talked about Selfish multiple times, but at some point, they had no choice but to admit it:

They couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Which meant one thing — Selfish was just a better song.

No matter how much extra points they gave their self-produced tracks due to superstition, it still didn’t outweigh Selfish.

Eventually, the leader made the call.

“Let’s take Selfish as our sole title track.”

“Seriously?”

“When you think about it, the reason we insist on self-producing is… because we want to succeed, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then if there’s a better song out there, we should go with it. We shouldn’t mess up our priorities.”

The members slowly nodded at Shido’s words — the one with the biggest stake in their self-produced music.

Once the decision was made, their heads cleared, and they could look at the song more objectively.

It was a really good song.

With the right arrangement, it could even chart on Billboard.

“By the way, what was the composer’s name again?”

“Zion.”

“If it’s Z, I, O, N, isn’t that pronounced ‘Zion’?”

“Doesn’t matter, does it? Let’s ask the company for a meeting. We need to decide whether to keep the guide vocals or just take the instrumental.”

“Audio quality aside, the guide was amazing though.”

Maybe because the song was so good, Drop Out’s comeback was now happening faster than it had originally.

---

During break time, I looked up PD Kang Seok-woo.

I was worried I wouldn’t understand even after looking it up since I don’t know much about the Korean broadcast scene…

But what do you know?

He’s a bigger deal than I thought.

[Kang Seok-woo, the ratings maker of MBN, to M Show?]

[What’s Kang Seok-woo’s next project after teaming up with M Show?]

I dug into his career. Honestly, “ratings maker” is a bit of a stretch.

He directed a massively successful show about four years ago and got a lot of screen time from it.

Thanks to that, he ended up being seen as MBN’s signature PD — even though that didn’t match his actual body of work.

So when someone like that moved to a cable network, it made headlines.

I also checked if he burned bridges with MBN when he left — but that wasn’t the case.

M Show and MBN had worked together on training programs for aspiring variety show PDs, and he had participated as an instructor.

Which meant… he had a pretty wide network in the variety show world.

At that point, I thought:

“Rather than squeezing things out, I should just use good connections.”

While I was thinking that, I noticed PD Kang Seok-woo pacing around like a nervous puppy.

Ever since I said I’d think about the single release, he’s been like that.

At first, I wondered why someone as high-ranking as a main director was acting like this, but after looking into him, I understood.

“Coming Up Next” is the first show he’s been in charge of at M Show.

He wants to prove himself.

After all, this idol survival show is niche — only people already interested will watch.

As long as it hits a certain rating, the ads targeting teens and twenty-somethings will sell out.

But to truly prove his ability, he’ll need to show strong digital sales too.

I don’t know much about Korean broadcasting, but that’s probably not too different from the U.S.

While I was still processing all that, my eyes met his, and he gave me a meek smile.

“Hmph.”

After repeating this regression so many times, I’ve gotten pretty good at reading people.

That smile? An act.

No way the main PD is actually that timid.

He’s trying to tug on the heartstrings of someone new to society.

If I really were a 20-year-old kid, seeing a PD act like that would’ve made me uncomfortable.

But honestly, I didn’t feel “How dare he try to manipulate me” or anything.

It’s normal. Everyone puts on some kind of act to get what they want.

So after sorting out my stance, I approached PD Kang Seok-woo before break ended.

“Hello, PD-nim.”

“Oh, hi. Have you thought it over?”

It hadn’t even been 30 minutes since I said I’d think about it.

“Earlier, I was a bit rude because I got nervous. I apologize.”

“No, not at all. But… nervous? Why?”

Playing dumb, huh?

I glanced around as if I had something secret to say.

Participants were either resting, practicing, or chatting with writers.

“I was afraid people would look down on me if I released a single alone…”

It wouldn’t bother the contestants, but if the audience saw it that way, it’d be bad.

Being seen as selfish or opportunistic sticks for a long time.

“Nah, don’t worry. In their interviews, they all said they wanted to hear the full chorus.”

“Really?”

To a regressor, “network” means being able to accurately predict how someone will act.

So what kind of person is PD Kang Seok-woo?

Let’s test him — just a little.

Not enough to rub him the wrong way.

“In that case, may I ask one favor?”

“A condition for the release?”

“Not exactly. Even if you say no, I’ll still go through with the release.”

“Alright. Go ahead.”

“Could you include a scene in the show where I’m debating whether or not to release the song?”

At that, Kang Seok-woo gave me a strange look and asked again.

“You want to influence the edit?”

“No, nothing like that. Just that one scene.”

“So you’re more worried about the viewers than the contestants, huh?”

“Uh, more like… the contestants will see the show too, after all…”

He chuckled softly and nodded.

“Sure, let’s do that. Then can we do a few more interviews? About the release?”

“Of course.”

“But you’ll follow our lead on the recording and release schedule, right?”

“Of course.”

Nodding, he gave me a few encouraging words and walked away.

But he quickly came back.

“Han Si-on. You said earlier it was just one favor, right?”

“Yes, I did.”

“That didn’t feel like just one favor to me. You think it was?”

Was he curious? Or trying to confirm something?

Whatever it was, Kang Seok-woo clearly isn’t the type to walk away with loose ends.

So I played along.

I smiled and answered casually.

“Maybe three, give or take?”

“…You’re interesting.”

He stared at me for a beat before walking away with what seemed like a genuine final word.

“Let’s do good work together.”

---

After instructing the main writer to set up a follow-up interview with Han Si-on, Kang Seok-woo scratched his head.

“What kind of kid is that?”

There’s a famous saying among aspiring variety show PDs:

“Genius direction exists, but genius shows don’t.”

It’s not some deep insight.

Kang Seok-woo heard it was adapted from something else.

Maybe the original was, “There are genius sentences, but no genius novels.”

Anyway, that part doesn’t matter.

The meaning is simple.

A genius can, with talent alone, create a great scene.

But you can’t string those scenes together into a masterpiece without deeper insight into human nature.

And insight doesn’t come from talent.

It comes from time and experience.

Kang Seok-woo mostly agreed with that idea.

Not totally — because there are some true prodigies out there.

But they’re rare.

“Could you include a scene in the show where I’m debating the release?”

From a director’s standpoint, that’s not “just one” favor.

There’s a flow to the broadcast.

Mission segments, then Han Si-on’s stage — and then suddenly, a scene like that?

Sure, he could force it in, but the rhythm of the show would suffer.

Plus, this is episode one — the most important.

If we show his internal debate about releasing a song, we need some kind of conflict around the release.

And conflict means we need a villain.

“Who’s the sneakiest contestant again?”

And with a villain, you need a hero.

And for the hero to shine, we have to build them up from the start.

Meaning they become the centerpiece of the whole program.

With one sentence, Han Si-on had set up all the groundwork to make that happen naturally.

At first, Kang didn’t think it was intentional.

Just a lucky coincidence born from his own anxiety.

That’s what he thought… until Si-on said:

“Maybe three, give or take?”

That answer was totally unexpected.

Honestly, Kang Seok-woo hadn’t planned to frame Han Si-on as a “good guy.”

He was leaning more toward casting him as a genius with a chip on his shoulder — not exactly unlikeable, but not endearing either.

A focal point of drama.

But now…

He had no choice but to go with Han Si-on’s plan.

Not because of any heavy moral obligation.

Just because…

It felt like the right move for ratings.

If someone that clever is the central figure, the program will be stable.

And maybe, with the right timing and luck, they could even spin off another viral hit like Under the Streetlamp.

“Damn…”

To think he’d just had that kind of conversation with a 20-year-old aspiring idol.

It’s true, but no one would believe it.

Though, one question remained.

Did Han Si-on say all that because he could see the whole picture clearly?

Or was he just intuitively responding to a blurry image?

Kang Seok-woo approached the head writer, still curious.

“Writer Choi. That kid earlier — what’s his name?”

“How am I supposed to know with just ‘that kid’?”

“You know, the one going around asking about everyone’s song choices.”

“Oh, Kim Sung-woo?”

“Yeah, that’s him. Poke him a bit. Ask what he thinks about Han Si-on releasing the song alone. You know what I mean.”

Writer Choi smirked and nodded.

---

Break time ended.

Well, it was only a break in name. In reality, it was just non-stop interviews.

Probably all centered around me.

Because of that, the way the other contestants looked at me had definitely changed.