Little Pink Starfish

Album 9: Whack-a-Mole

One week before the broadcast of Coming Up Next episode 10—
Episode 9 had just aired.

It was… unremarkable.

They didn’t spotlight Sedalbaekil, nor did they overly favor TakeScene.

The episode simply showed the contestants preparing for the final Free Song Mission with sincerity.

But there was one part that sparked controversy:

Han Si-on training the other members.

[Again.]
[Again.]
[No, try singing it from farther back.]
[Again.]

Si-on hadn’t expected those scenes to air.

At most, he figured they’d include some quick, harmless clips.
At the time, there was no reason for Coming Up Next to damage his image.

But the situation had changed.

Producer Kang Seokwoo aired Si-on’s training scenes without any filter.

There was no malicious editing to make him seem unlikeable.

And yet—it sparked backlash.

• WTF, I like Han Si-on, but this is a bit much lol
• He’s acting like some cult leader with a superiority complex.
• Are the members just that nice, or is he just that pushy? I’d be pissed.
• Who made him judge and jury?
• Ever since Chris Edwards praised him, the show lost its fairness. The PD should’ve stepped in.

Everyone agreed Han Si-on was a genius.

From Under the Streetlight to Fork in the Road—
He had composed several hit songs during a mere 10-episode run.

But did the public see him as a “once-in-a-generation” genius?

Not really.

That phrase—“once-in-a-generation”—implies someone so rare they won’t come again for a very long time.

And Han Si-on didn’t quite strike people that way.

There had been contestants in other audition programs whose every performance caused a buzz.

A few rappers from Show Me What You Got had topped the charts with every track.

And plenty of contestants had gone viral for their original compositions.

Some were even praised by top industry professionals.

Sure, maybe those “pros” weren’t on Chris Edwards’ level, but still—it wasn’t unheard of.

So the public’s sentiment toward Han Si-on was this:

“Wow, a genius—haven’t seen one of these in a while.”

Which, when you think about it, means they didn’t find him fundamentally different from other geniuses.

Of course, those who’d worked closely with him saw it differently.

Lee Hyunseok, Jo Gijeong, Kang Seokwoo—they thought Han Si-on was beyond comparison.

So did the other members of Sedalbaekil, and some of the judges.

They’d witnessed his raw, unfiltered brilliance firsthand.

But the public only saw what made it onto TV.
And to casual viewers, the difference between a 100-point genius and a 1000-point genius isn’t obvious.

That’s why episode 9 stirred controversy.

And around this time, Chae Taeho—CEO of Lion Entertainment and judge on Coming Up Next—was deep in thought.

“Should I bury him completely?”

Kicking Han Si-on out of the industry would be easier than twisting a child’s arm.

One cough from Chae Taeho could bring a typhoon crashing down on Sedalbaekil.

So in a way, Si-on retreating to the indie scene was both foolish and clever.

Indie means “independent.”
That’s a place Chae Taeho’s influence didn’t reach.

But that also meant it was too small to matter.

Whether Sedalbaekil drew 100 or 1,000 people—
As long as they weren’t part of the mainstream, it was irrelevant.

Still… Chae Taeho felt regret.

He didn’t deeply care about musical brilliance.

Sure, he acknowledged Si-on’s talent, even clapped for it during judging.

But Chae Taeho cared about show business.

No matter how talented someone was—if it didn’t sell, it didn’t matter.

The problem was—Han Si-on would sell.

He had the aura, the face, and the ability to captivate a stage.

He was born to be a star.

If Lion pushed him properly, they could build a group that surpassed Drop Out and even NOP.

So yes, it was a waste—and a dilemma.

Should he crush Si-on completely?

Or bring him back?

Calling it “bringing him back” was self-centered—but that’s how Chae Taeho thought.

When he heard Han Si-on would appear on Ruin Detector, he had Jo Taehoon probe him.

“That’s what he said?”

“Yeah. But… it’s ambiguous, hyung.”

“What’s ambiguous?”

“Could go either way. 50% he genuinely regrets crossing you. 50% he knew I was testing him.”

“He knew?”

“He’s sharp. Real smart kid.”

But people hear what they want to hear.

“So… even Han Si-on has doubts.”

That meant—maybe, just maybe, Han Si-on would return to Lion.

Chae Taeho knew the kid was clever.

But clever enough to sniff out the test and give the perfect answer?

He doubted it.

And so, Chae Taeho made a decision:

He wouldn’t bury Han Si-on.

But he would humble him.

“A year should be enough.”

Make him completely powerless.

Then extend a hand through someone like Blue, who’d stayed friendly with the contestants.

With that stance settled, Chae Taeho coordinated with M Show.

Episode 10 would focus on TakeScene—but wouldn’t sink Sedalbaekil.

And so, one week later—
Episode 10 aired.

---

“Huh… pretty mild, actually.”

Choi Jaesung’s reaction matched mine after watching episode 10.

It was exactly as expected.

TakeScene got more screentime.
Their stage took center edit.
Meanwhile, our performance got chopped up with judge commentary.
I-on’s pre-chorus was overlaid with a giant caption.
Even scenes that could’ve looked cool with close-ups were limited to mid-shots.

Still, the editing didn’t ruin Sedalbaekil’s stage.

There are a hundred ways to turn a great performance into a disaster via post-production.

They didn’t go that far.

So you could call it a moderate edit.

Final verdict: TakeScene were the stars.
We were the competent supporting cast.

Afterward, scores were tallied and TakeScene was declared the winner.

Their debut date was announced: August 26, 2017.

Just two months away.

Checking the news online, the entire internet was ablaze with TakeScene coverage.

[Coming Up Next Finale: TakeScene Wins!]
[K-pop’s New Big Thing—TakeScene to Debut August 26]
[Flawless from start to finish: TakeScene’s Well-Deserved Win]
[Episode 10 Ratings: 11.8%]
[The Grateful Debut: M Show rewards TakeScene’s loyalty with stage]

Sedalbaekil?
Not mentioned.

Sure, our name popped up inside some articles—
Phrases like “Sedalbaekil: strong as individuals, TakeScene: strong as a team.”

But not in titles.

Even more telling—

Many of Sedalbaekil’s videos disappeared from M Show’s YouTube channel.

Official mission clips stayed up, but everything else was made temporarily private.

Clear proof that Lion and M Show had come to an agreement.

“Hmm…”

“That’s… a bit much.”

The others must’ve seen the internet too—they looked surprised.

“Don’t we have a ton of smaller press outlets in Korea? How come no one’s writing about us?”

“Those outlets usually copy from major ones.”

When big press writes something, low-tier clickbait outlets rewrite it with spicy headlines to generate ad revenue.

Sometimes humans do it, sometimes AI.

It’s how trashy copy-paste journalism thrives here.

There’s a word for it in Korea—urakai, right?

Anyway, if the original articles don’t mention us, neither will the copies.

At this point, the business game we’re in resembles whack-a-mole.

Whenever Sedalbaekil sticks its head out—
Lion Entertainment brings down the mallet.

Anyone who tries to work with us?
Whack.

On Saemiro turned to me.

“So what do we do?”

“You know who the saddest character is in whack-a-mole?”

“Sad? Who?”

“The first mole. It always gets smacked.”

Chae Taeho isn’t God or a king—he can’t control everything.

There are companies who’d want to work with us.

Some might not even care if they piss him off.

But none of them want to be the first mole.

No one wants to take the hit.
They’re waiting for someone else to go first.

“So our goal… is to flood the board with moles.”

“How?”

“For starters… this.”

I opened YouTube and played a freshly uploaded teaser.

[(Official Teaser) Are You Sure You’re in the Right Place? This Is Ruin Detector!]

My name wasn’t in the title.

But my face? Front and center in the thumbnail.

The video opened with footage of me singing Under the Streetlight on Coming Up Next.

Then rapid-fire clips of every charting song I’d released.

[How do you feel?]
[I’m happy.]
[Why?]
[Because I’m a huge fan of this show.]

Cut to me, strapped into the lie detector.

[Fanboy or not—do you even know where you are right now?!]

A few flashy captions.

Then Jo Taehoon’s voice:

[I care more about money than fans’ love!]

Close-up of me, speechless.

And finally—the show’s logo appeared on screen.

It had only been up 20 minutes.

But the comment section?

Already on fire.