Because it was something he’d already been mulling over, Kang Seok-woo immediately nodded.
“Yeah. It’d be a waste. A real shame.”
Simple truth:
Even after Coming Up Next ends, MShow doesn’t want to let go of Han Si-on as a free agent.
Right now, Han Si-on is the goose that lays golden eggs.
And while they won’t kill that goose, they’re also not about to send it waddling into someone else’s barn.
“How about we stir things up a bit and try signing him as a network artist?”
“Too risky. Lion covered too much of the production costs. We cross them, we’re dead.”
“Hmm…”
Lion Entertainment may have slipped in revenue rankings, but their name still holds weight.
Meanwhile, MShow only ranks around 3rd or 4th among cable networks—excluding major broadcasters. Add OTTs like Netflix into the mix, and it drops even further.
Going against Lion just to poach Han Si-on? Way too risky.
They already agreed that Lion holds first negotiation rights with all Coming Up Next cast members.
“Plus, we’re sharing TakeScene profits for years. Starting a fight would be awkward.”
“Exactly. So, you must’ve called me up because you’ve got something in mind, right?”
“I do. But I haven’t decided which path is better.”
“Tell me. Let’s figure it out together.”
Tapping the table, the director finally spoke.
“Seok-woo. Worst case for us is if Han Si-on signs on as a trainee with Lion, right?”
“Right.”
If he spends two years training under Lion and then debuts?
MShow loses the chance to say, We launched this guy—cut us in.
Within six months, the impact of Coming Up Next will have faded anyway.
“NT reached out. They’ve got a boy group they’re grooming—LMC.”
“Okay.”
“They want to recruit Han Si-on. In exchange, they’ll give us a five-year cut of his earnings. They want us to push him.”
“Five years?!”
Kang Seok-woo’s eyes widened.
Most revenue shares end in one or two years. Five is insane.
And that must mean the cut they’re offering is massive.
“They must be expecting something huge.”
“They are. They want Han Si-on to play a background role.”
“…Ah.”
Kang Seok-woo immediately understood.
“We’ll push TakeScene front and center, and push Han Si-on to the sidelines. They think we’ve already squeezed all the juice out of him.”
“Then once his value drops, NT can make a move with Lion?”
“Exactly. And the revenue drop from the show will be offset by that five-year cut.”
“What do you think?”
“What do you think?”
“I’m not into it. Let’s be real, that money’s not going into my pocket, is it?”
“They’re offering you 2%. You know how huge that is, right?”
“…Still not worth it. If we stay the course, we could set the highest ratings record in MShow history.”
The current record is 5.6%.
No reason Coming Up Next can’t break that.
“Right? Honestly, I’m not that into it either. I’m the variety director here. But the execs upstairs love this plan. It’s neat, with clear merit.”
The justification: “We’re promoting TakeScene.”
The payoff: “We get revenue from both TakeScene and Han Si-on.”
The execs would eat that up.
A brief silence followed, then Kang Seok-woo asked,
“What’s the other option?”
“This one’s mine. We push Han Si-on. Like, really push him.”
“More than TakeScene?”
“Way more. In a 100-minute broadcast, we spend 60 minutes on him. Go full-on crazy with it.”
The director’s eyes gleamed.
“And make SeDalBaekIl pure background.”
“…”
“Make it so obvious that Han Si-on is the face of the show. But barely show SeDalBaekIl. Build public sentiment—make it feel inevitable that TakeScene has to debut.”
Now Kang Seok-woo saw the full picture.
“People will feel a void, right? The more drawn they are to Han Si-on… and then—”
“We debut Han Si-on. Inside TakeScene.”
“Bingo. And who knows—CEO Choi Tae-ho might actually love the idea.”
Not bad.
It breaks the original mission of promoting TakeScene—but pushing Han Si-on of TakeScene is still a win.
And all profits linked to Han Si-on? Still shared.
“What do you think?”
“I think it’s great. But didn’t you say something similar last time?”
“Me?”
The director tilted his head. So did Kang Seok-woo.
“You said if things went well, you’d negotiate with CEO Choi Tae-ho.”
That much, he remembered clearly.
The director burst out laughing.
“Seok-woo.”
“Yes?”
“When I said ‘negotiate,’ I didn’t mean this. I meant getting his permission to sell off Han Si-on separately.”
“Oh… was that it?”
“You seriously thought I meant debuting him in TakeScene?”
“Yes. I did.”
“Hmm…”
Now they both understood the disconnect.
When they’d had that conversation, they’d seen Han Si-on very differently.
To the director, he was just a money-maker.
To Kang Seok-woo, he was a force capable of reshaping the entire show.
As it turned out—Kang was right.
The director had come around to the same conclusion.
“Director—no, senior. Shouldn’t you talk to CEO Choi Tae-ho first? It’s really his decision.”
“There’s just one thing I need to check first.”
“What is it?”
“If we push Han Si-on—push him insanely hard—but he crashes? If the hype dies down?”
“We’d look like clowns.”
“Exactly. Everyone goes down with him. MShow. Lion. TakeScene. SeDalBaekIl. Total wipeout.”
So the director wanted a guarantee from Kang, the showrunner, about Han Si-on’s true potential.
Sure, Chris Edwards had vouched for him—but that’s just a musical opinion.
What about from a broadcast perspective?
“What do you think?”
This time, Kang Seok-woo chuckled.
“Senior. I think you’ve got the wrong idea—I don’t know music.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I’m sure he won’t crash.”
“Why?”
“Because even if Coming Up Next was a documentary, the outcome would’ve been the same.”
That’s how raw and unedited Han Si-on’s talent is.
Kang never even tried to direct it.
“Or better yet, how about this?”
“What?”
“Give me three days. If what I do reaches your ears, then trust me. And trust Han Si-on.”
He’s saying he’ll set off a Han Si-on explosion that’ll rock the industry.
“Okay. Deal.”
“I’ll head out now. Not much time left.”
“But Seok-woo—what you’re about to do… was this always part of the plan?”
“Hm…”
Kang Seok-woo grinned.
“I always wanted to do it. I just held back—didn’t want to screw over TakeScene.”
With that, he gave a slight bow and left the director’s office.
The decision was made.
Han Si-on was now the true protagonist of Coming Up Next.
Choi Se-hee, who had first discovered Han Si-on by chance at a Coming Up Next taping, was now openly claiming him.
Drop Out was her main fandom—but Han Si-on? Her solid second pick.
Not unusual these days.
Han Si-on was everywhere in the idol scene. More and more people were “second-stanning” him.
Every skill-focused fan had already flocked to him.
Of course…
“That means he’s got plenty of haters too.”
Probably Webple fans.
Chris Edwards may have nuked their arguments, but they still couldn’t stand Han Si-on.
“Ugh, isn’t anything new going up?”
Choi Se-hee grumbled, refreshing MShow’s YouTube channel yet again.
She’d just done it a minute ago—but where else was she gonna get her fangirl fix?
All the members’ socials had been wiped clean before the broadcast.
Han Si-on didn’t even have one to begin with.
“If I were the PD, I’d have opened an SNS for SeDalBaekIl and posted their daily pics and stories…”
“So clueless…”
She knew it wasn’t realistic.
No survival show lets contestants run social accounts.
Then—
“Oh?”
She refreshed again. And there it was: brand-new videos, still at zero views.
“They posted something!”
She’d been watching the channel because she was sure the full karaoke mission videos would drop soon.
The broadcast had skimmed over it, but the actual on-site atmosphere was intense.
Ten contestants gave it their all, and winners were decided.
Even the audience had tilted physically toward whoever sounded better—it was that real.
So the clips had to be coming.
[C.U.N/EP3] “At the End of Dawn” – Han Si-on | Karaoke Mission / VS FADE
Choi Se-hee rushed to her SNS and posted it with a touch of fangirlish flair.
Then hit play.
Three minutes of song.
It was… good.
Unbelievably good.
Not just “I like him” good—objectively good. A song everyone would love.
“Jeez, I’ve got no ear for music, huh.”
Looking back, she felt a little ashamed. She’d underestimated his talent.
She just thought he sang nice, easy old songs. That’s why she once posted this:
Skill: Sang an easy old song, so it didn’t really show his range. But it was pleasant. Hard to score… maybe 8~8.5?
But now she knew.
Even if you gave Han Si-on 85 out of 100, it wouldn’t be enough.
As penance, she left a loving comment:
“From now on, all city pop shall be known as Si-on pop. Society has agreed.”
Other comments were flooding in too. She wasn’t the only one waiting.
- Holy crap! This is amazing lol
- Kang Seok-woo has no taste. He chopped this up like that for the episode?
- What year is this song even from?
- If I were a 70s–80s singer, I’d beg Si-on to remake it. He’d be booked nonstop.
- Look how clean he sings without overdoing the technique.
- Right? You can tell he’s skilled because he doesn’t flex.
- Is this going to be released as a digital track?
All the comments were positive. It felt good.
Until she saw one strange one at the bottom.
- lol what’s going on? Is it Han Si-on’s birthday? How many vids are dropping today?
Curious, she went to the video list—
Her eyes widened.
“…!”
Five new videos had dropped:
- [C.U.N] “Under the Streetlight” Recording Studio | Unreleased
- [C.U.N] “Falling Blossoms” Recording Studio | Unreleased
- [C.U.N] Is this really an impromptu jam? Feat. Lee Hyun-seok, Jo Ki-jung | Unreleased
- [C.U.N] “Under the Streetlight” Remake Recording | Unreleased
- [C.U.N] Chris Edwards X Han Si-on Piano Duet | Unreleased
Every thumbnail—Han Si-on.
Looks like MShow… finally came to its senses.
Little Pink Starfish 
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