I became the leader of a damned girl group

Chapter 3
Even though it was a different body, the day still came without fail.

7 a.m.

I was heading to the practice room.

In Cheong’s memories, Cheong always went to the practice room at this hour.

As if it were the most natural thing, she would open the practice room door, clean up, and practice.

Most of the other trainees usually arrived not long after.

And today was no different.

Only, the atmosphere was different than usual.

Because starting today, filming for Make a New Color was beginning.

Currently, there were 50 female trainees under Colors.

However, only twelve of them were candidates for the debut team.

Out of these, only five would debut.

The other seven would have to return to the starting line and challenge for debut once again.

And I knew seven of these twelve.

Because only seven ended up debuting.

The five who debuted with Still Blue, and two who debuted afterward.

The other five never debuted and walked a different path.

And among the seven who debuted, only two lasted for ten years.

Three of the Still Blue members vanished after just one year, and another disappeared from the entertainment industry within five years.

That’s just how this world was.

So many people disappeared that it was hard to even keep track of who had disappeared.

The biggest problem was that this happened so often, everyone thought it was just natural.

Even though it wasn’t really natural.

Well, anyway.

“The atmosphere’s no joke today.”

Maybe because it was the first day of filming, everyone was stiff as a board.

It made sense.

It felt like the day of the college entrance exam for a high school senior.

By the way, not a single person was greeting me.

Actually, until a few months ago, Cheong had been a trainee at another agency.

But after she failed to make it into that agency’s debut team, she transferred to Colors, which had been looking for a main vocal trainee.

Because of that, she wasn’t very familiar with the trainees here.

Just because we were under the same agency didn’t mean we had to be close.

I casually sat right in front of the mirror and started stretching.

Gotta warm up my body first… huh?

…Why is everyone staring at me?

“Hey.”

At that moment, someone called out to me.

Not by my name—just “hey.” Either they didn’t know my name because I was that insignificant, or they hated me that much.

Neither option was particularly welcome.

“That’s Baekyoung unnie’s spot.”

…There are assigned seats in the practice room?

Without much resistance, I scooted over to the side.

There was no need to start conflicts from the beginning.

Especially not with Seo Baekyoung.

Thud.

“Baekyoung unnie!”

“You’re here, unnie?”

“Hello!”

They say even tigers come when spoken of.

It was Seo Baekyoung.

Seo Baekyoung was the trainee who had been at Colors the longest, playing the so-called “leader” role everyone relied on.

She had survived here for nine years.

Everyone believed she would surely debut.

Maybe that’s why Seo Baekyoung, unlike Yoon Cheong, received greetings from everyone.

Seo Baekyoung casually accepted each greeting and walked over to me.

Well, it was her seat after all.

Seo Baekyoung stared at me for a moment.

“Unexpected.”

“…What is?”

“You were always sitting in the corner.”

Seo Baekyoung plopped down beside me and started stretching too, just like me.

“Decided to suddenly act all proactive because of the filming?”

Ah, it was clear now.

“That’s fine, but don’t drag others down. Like last time.”

She really hated me.

No, actually—everyone in this practice room…

They all hated Yoon Cheong.

I’m screwed.

Actually, even though I had seen Yoon Cheong’s memories, they were mostly vague.

To summarize Yoon Cheong’s life—she was utterly alone.

For some reason, she chose to live without a single friend or colleague.

From what I could guess, it was because she was afraid of people.

It was a vicious cycle.

Afraid of people, she kept her distance from them; because she kept her distance, she became even more afraid of people.

And being afraid of people meant becoming afraid of the stage, and afraid of cameras too.

Yoon Cheong always practiced alone.

In places where no one else was.

So nobody ever knew that Yoon Cheong was working hard.

They only saw her results.

…And those results were always her freezing up stiffly the moment a camera turned on.

During individual evaluations, it was manageable.

But in group evaluations, it became a major problem.

‘Are you kidding us? You think singing well by yourself is enough? The choreography is all wrong!’

Group evaluations required everyone to practice together.

You had to coordinate the choreography and match the vocal harmonies.

But Yoon Cheong only practiced alone, except during the minimum required group sessions.

Even if it was because she was scared of people, of course the other trainees didn’t see it in a good light.

‘So selfish. She thinks she can just debut as the main vocalist by herself.’

And it would’ve been somewhat excusable if her solo practices produced good results… but the results were disastrous.

“That’s fine, but don’t drag others down. Like last time.”

So Seo Baekyoung’s reaction wasn’t too much.

Especially since she had just recently been on the same team as Yoon Cheong for evaluations.

But the thing is—

“That won’t happen anymore.”

“!”

Things would be a bit different from now on.

“Then that’s a relief.”

Seo Baekyoung seemed quite surprised but replied calmly after a moment.

She wasn’t the only one surprised.

The trainees around us, who could hear our conversation, all seemed shocked too.

‘…Did she take some drugs just because we’re on camera?’

‘Leave her be. Those quiet types are the scariest when they snap.’

…I can hear everything, you know.

Anyway.

Now, the real beginning.

Make a New Color.

A rookie girl group debut survival program by Colors, a top-five major agency famous for producing successful girl groups.

Out of twelve trainees, only five would debut.

Four would be selected purely by viewers’ votes, and one would be chosen by the judges.

Voting would happen once every two weeks, but only the final voting would actually matter for the debut.

Meaning—even if you ranked first early on, it was meaningless unless you placed in the top four during the final vote.

However, there was still a way to debut without making the top four.

You just had to catch the judges’ attention.

There were four judges in total.

Kim Mokyung, a director and producer at the agency.

Do Heeyoung, a 12-year senior and member of Colors’ flagship girl group, Grayish.

Kang Soonhwa, Colors’ main vocal trainer.

Jo Wonho, Colors’ main dance trainer and choreographer.

All people I knew from my past life.

…Not that I meant I knew them in a good way.

There were no eliminations, but every two weeks, popularity rankings would be announced.

And each mission’s MVP, chosen by the judges, would be announced too.

The popularity No. 1 and the MVP would receive benefits for the next mission.

Meanwhile, the lowest-ranked 12th place trainee would get a handicap.

And Yoon Cheong had stayed in 12th place the entire time, only debuting because of the judges’ selection.

That’s how it was supposed to be.

But not anymore.

Soon after, cameras and other broadcasting equipment started lining up on one side of the practice room.

A man who seemed to be the PD stood at the front of the room.

“Okay, for today, just do what you usually do when practicing. Act as you normally would.”

…If we all acted as usual, there wouldn’t even be twelve of us sharing a practice room to begin with.

I looked up at the PD.

A familiar face.

PD Oh Baekkyung.

The problem was—he wasn’t a good familiar face.

“Please chat among yourselves too, okay? Just go with the flow.”

If he was directing this, it was dangerous.

“Don’t act all fake and boring.”

This guy was famous for evil editing.

…Although he was famous for something else too, but that wasn’t important right now.

Of course, for the broadcasting side, the more dramatic the scenes, the better.

In a competitive survival show like this, even a single fight between contestants would be a jackpot.

They’d probably milk a five-minute fight for three whole episodes.

The real problem was the contestants’ image.

Trainees had no fans or established image yet.

Meaning, whatever image was set early on would stick for a long time.

So in the beginning, the safest strategy was to stay quiet.

“Cheong-ah.”

But why was she so clueless, striking up a conversation now?

“Did we finish the first group choreography practice?”

Seo Baekyoung, who had already finished warming up, asked me loudly enough for everyone to hear.

One hundred percent, she was trying to get some screen time.

“Our group choreography isn’t exactly easy, right? I’m a little worried.”

The first stage of this program was a group dance performance.

It wasn’t a mission but a performance to introduce the trainees.

About a four-minute stage to make a first impression.

The problem was—the choreography was quite hard for an introductory stage.

The original Yoon Cheong couldn’t pull it off at all.

And I had only seen the choreography for the first time 12 hours ago.

“Ah, I’ve been practicing, but it’s not easy.”

Be humble. Always humble.

“Really? Which part is hard? I’ll help you.”

…I can see the role you’re aiming for.

The cool, kind leader role, huh.

“Ah, could you maybe watch just the chorus part with me?”

Still, I decided to play along.

“Of course, I can watch it for you.”

Seo Baekyoung readily agreed and stood up.

“Then why don’t you show it once? I’ll point out the parts you could improve.”

Here we go.

Instantly, all the trainees’ gazes turned toward us.

“I’ll play the song now. Just dance the chorus part.”

Singing? Good.

Dancing? A complete disaster for Yoon Cheong.

At this rate, she would embarrass herself terribly in front of the camera.

Probably ending up in the teaser with captions like “A trainee in danger from the very first stage…?”

Meaning, she’d be stuck with a “black hole” image right from the start.

“Ah, I’m a little worried about disturbing everyone who’s practicing…”

“No way!”

“Not at all. We’re fine, don’t worry.”

The other trainees hurriedly waved their hands.

Of course you guys are fine.

The problem is me, or rather, Yoon Cheong.

Most of the trainees were looking at Yoon Cheong with slightly pitying eyes.

Seo Baekyoung, however, was looking with pure coldness.

And as for PD Oh—

“Oh, good, good. Let’s go.”

He looked absolutely thrilled.

I was sure PD Oh had been briefed beforehand about all the trainees’ profiles.

Strengths, weaknesses, positions, personalities—everything.

Meaning, he knew Yoon Cheong was weak at dancing.

Yet he was still pushing this situation.

Because for the broadcast, Yoon Cheong’s struggle was a bonus.

“Ah… I’m still lacking in skills…”

“It’s okay. We’re all lacking.”

“Then, unnie…”

I turned to Seo Baekyoung and smiled sweetly.

“Could you maybe dance next to me too? Since you’re so good, if you dance with me, I think I’ll find the rhythm faster and feel more reassured…”