I Became the Youngest Member of a Top Idol Group

Chapter 33: Concept Shoot (2)

Seo Haim perked up both ears and listened attentively to what I said.

A concept shoot that could immediately connect to the next concept evaluation.

Naturally, it required a choice made with utmost caution.

As a result, I was left with two options.

Cuteness or sexiness.

Seo Haim asked again with a displeased expression at my serious dilemma.

"Uh… those are the two left?"

"Yes."

"Why are you even hesitating?"

"They’re just so evenly matched."

Seo Haim tilted his head with a look that said he couldn't relate at all.

"Evenly matched… has that phrase changed meaning in the dictionary I know?"

Cuteness and sexiness.

The former was a concept I had already tried once, so I was confident in it.

But it felt too predictable.

In the Stardust Project, I would eventually be eliminated in the final round.

Though my current ranking was going smoothly, I judged that I still lacked enough to firmly secure a debut spot.

Until the final results were out, nothing was decided.

In my previous life, my final result had been elimination.

If that outcome was wrong, then I needed to change the process itself.

Because of that, cuteness just… just didn’t appeal to me.

Besides, my inner self was twenty-five years old.

It wasn’t the age to keep pushing that kind of concept.

So, a very rational conclusion was drawn.

"Hyung, I think I should go with sexy."

"You?"

"Yes."

Even after thinking it over carefully, I was certain.

The vibe that came from age—this was something I just couldn’t ignore.

It used to be a concept I couldn’t pull off easily, but now it was different.

I hadn’t lived twenty-five years for nothing. Maybe I could express sexiness better than any of the other trainees here.

Though I took a different approach with the concept, Eloy’s “Dan-O-Mu” that I performed during the level test was originally a sexy song.

Even if it would be difficult to express the entire song in a sexy concept, doing so for just over a minute should be doable, right?

Besides, in these short PR videos, the most important thing was—

Confidence.

Yeah, confidence.

I spoke in a voice full of conviction.

"Even from a kilometer away, I think I look sexy."

"…What am I supposed to do with that."

On the other hand, Seo Haim, standing in front of me, didn’t look so convinced.

Those anxious, trembling eyes.

"You think so too, right, hyung?"

"Uh… kind of…? Even just standing still, you’re sexy… maybe?"

"I’m telling you, I am."

I tried to probe, but he didn’t fall for it.

If it had been Jin Sehyun, he probably would have thrown a scathing truth bomb with a look of contempt.

Maybe because he couldn’t openly oppose me, Seo Haim awkwardly changed the subject.

"Still, wouldn’t it be better to be on the same team as me? You just need to slap on something like a hamster hat and your concept is complete!"

"I want to break away from that image."

"Um… uh…."

Actually, I had another major reason.

In the third evaluation, the concept shoot where I pushed the cuteness theme had definitely received good feedback, but among all the songs, the one that hit big was “Betters.”

A legendary song with powerful choreography that helped nearly half the team reach the final debut lineup.

Lee Junhyeok also got his final boost thanks to “Betters.”

Now that it was gone, there was no more chance to benefit from the song choice.

But that song’s concept was sexy.

A well-loved track from the Stardust Project series that ranked high on real-time charts because the song was just that good.

Especially the fiery choreography that involved stroking the neck—it became a trend even after the program ended.

Considering the song selection, it wasn’t a bad concept to try at least once.

So, I had to aim for “Betters.”

I think props were handed out during the concept shoot.

What kind of prop would make sexiness really stick?

"Isn’t there something hot and flashy…?"

Muttering to myself, I walked off.

* * *

To perfectly pull off the sexy concept, it wasn’t just important to choose a song that matched the sexy mood.

Choosing the right prop was something I absolutely couldn’t neglect.

I spent the entire night thinking about what kind of prop to use.

Then the night had already passed.

"Should I just hold a necktie in my mouth or something…?"

Of course, it wasn’t like I hadn’t tried that.

Last night, I even gave a demo in front of Seo Haim.

‘Seohan, seriously… you look like a hamster grinding its teeth.’

He had almost called me a dog at first, but I knew he was sugarcoating it as much as possible.

So, the necktie idea was dismissed.

Ugh, what should I really do?

"Should I just go with something safe…?"

I was clutching my head in a once-in-a-lifetime dilemma.

And just then—

Murmur murmur.

I heard a phrase that made me doubt my ears.

At first, I thought I was hallucinating from sleepiness, but the voice was surprisingly clear.

"…I took it."

"I said I would take it."

Huh?

"I said I took that part."

"What?"

I frowned and turned to find the source of that nonsense.

Lee Dokyung was standing there with a shameless look, nodding his head.

"Just like I said. That part we talked about—I settled it with Kang Siwoo."

I looked around and checked if there was a camera nearby.

This was Doubles Entertainment's exclusive practice room with no cameras.

Before the morning shoot, we had just dropped by to practice for the second evaluation.

I hadn’t cleared this time just to play politics.

I frowned and chewed over Lee Dokyung’s words.

Settled?

No way.

Unless Kang Siwoo was a complete pushover, there’s no way he’d just hand over his low-importance part.

I asked again with a baffled expression.

"Settled…?"

Lee Dokyung smirked and responded quickly.

"Let’s call it… cooperation."

"Pfft."

I thought I misheard.

The more I listened, the more absurd it sounded.

We’ve decided to call that kind of thing ‘blackmail’.

I didn’t know what he used to strike a deal, but there was something super shady about it.

Actually, it was just openly shady.

What did he use to pressure him?

That question didn’t last long. Instead of staying quiet, Lee Dokyung just started spilling everything.

"You know Taewoon Group, right?"

At that one line, I instinctively took a deep breath.

Taewoon Group.

If you were to list the top 10 conglomerates in South Korea, it would definitely be one of them—a name every citizen would recognize.

Their influence in the food industry alone was strong enough to say they had it in a chokehold.

I even had a few Taewoon meal kits in my apartment right now.

Wait, hold on.

If that name came up here, that means…

"That guy’s a third-generation chaebol."

"What?"

I knew he always wore expensive clothes, but…

Taewoon Group?

I thought at most he was the son of some mid-sized entertainment company CEO.

Even I couldn’t keep a straight face at this.

This was basically a birth secret straight out of a morning drama—how could I not be shocked?

"Is it really Taewoon Group?"

"I wouldn’t lie about something like this. Ask Kang Siwoo directly if you want."

"……."

Just as Lee Dokyung said, I’d know for sure just by asking Kang Siwoo.

If he really was a third-generation heir to Taewoon Group, it explained why the production crew had been so desperate to highlight him.

However, I still had one lingering doubt.

Kang Siwoo’s presence in the Stardust Project.

If he were truly a chaebol heir, the uproar would’ve started even before the show began—no way he’d be able to hide it.

They should’ve already been linking his profile under the name of Taewoon Group’s chairman—‘Grandson: Kang Siwoo’.

There’s no way Korean internet sleuths would let that slide.

But the fact that something that should’ve caused a stir had remained quiet…

"Guess the backstory isn’t all that pleasant."

He’s probably an illegitimate child or hiding it for some other reason.

Either way, if that were revealed, Kang Siwoo’s position would become very awkward.

It seemed my guess had hit the mark, as Lee Dokyung’s face lit up.

“Wow, Do Seohan. You’re sharp.”

Lee Dokyung chuckled and gave a thumbs up.

I had no desire to be praised by Lee Dokyung of all people, so I frowned and took a step back.

Yet Lee Dokyung, still satisfied, kept talking.

“I really like you, Do Seohan. If I had known you were this type of person, I would’ve teamed up with you instead of Lee Junhyeok during the first evaluation.”

Shouldn’t you consider whether the other party wants to be caught?

At my cold stare, Lee Dokyung added with an awkward laugh.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Oh. Is it because of Lee Junhyeok?”

“Seems like you stabbed me in the back too.”

“Let’s say we cleared up that misunderstanding.”

“How amusing.”

So Lee Dokyung was the one who introduced Lee Junhyeok to the trainees from KJ Entertainment.

I’d suspected it, but hearing it straight from his mouth didn’t feel great.

He wasn’t even trying to hide it, shamelessly looking me in the eye.

Lee Dokyung shrugged and said,

“I’m pretty quick when it comes to information. Got a wide network too.”

“So, you’re saying if I don’t ‘cooperate,’ you’ll start blackmailing me now?”

“Oh, no way. I dug into you, but nothing really came up.”

Of course.

I wasn’t a third-generation chaebol, and unlike Lee Junhyeok, I hadn’t caused any scandals.

Still, I had no intention of bowing to someone who used another person’s family affairs like this.

I straightened my posture and looked back at Lee Dokyung.

“I’m also pretty quick when it comes to information. Got a wide network.”

“Oh… that’s unexpected?”

More accurately, I was very quick.

I’m ahead of my time, after all.

I watched Lee Dokyung’s mocking expression with a smirk.

Though he managed to debut safely and become one of Stardust’s main members, not all the rumors about him were clean.

Fans might have plugged their ears and eyes, calling them baseless gossip, but within the industry, stories had already circulated by the end of the show.

So.

Around this time, it should apply.

“Lee Dokyung-ssi.”

“Yes?”

“I’m saying this because I also need your ‘cooperation’...”

Whether it was ‘cooperation’ or ‘blackmail,’ I had no interest in bringing this up.

I disliked making enemies, and exploiting others’ weaknesses wasn’t my style.

But Lee Dokyung had already crossed the line.

If you’re going to stab someone in the back, you should know that the knife might hit you one day too.

With a smile, I began.

“You’ve got a lot of girlfriends, don’t you?”

“…What?”

As if wondering if I was trying to blackmail him about dating, Lee Dokyung’s face turned cold.

Whether an idol is dating.

On an as-yet-unaired survival show, it’s definitely a potential issue, but it’s rare to bury a fellow contestant over a relationship.

It’s not a crime, and it’s not a social scandal either.

It might be enough to damage someone’s image, but the one who exposed it wouldn’t come off looking good either.

So that look on his face—like asking if I had no morals—wasn’t entirely wrong.

But,

Think carefully.

That subtle difference in one word.

Lee Dokyung’s brows furrowed as he picked up on that slight discomfort—and then paused.

Because he realized that I hadn’t asked if he “had” a girlfriend.

I had asked if he had “many.”

The corners of my lips curled up again as I asked once more.

“How many?”

Lee Dokyung’s expression quickly soured.