The Trashy Pd Has To Survive As an Idol: 문찐 [139+]

Overseas expansion was a major issue, both for idols and their fandoms.

The Korean Wave (Hallyu), which began in the 1990s, swept across Asia in the 2000s through the export of Korean dramas.

And now...

It had extended its massive influence even to the Western world, spreading the power of Korean culture far and wide.

"Do you know... kimchi?"

"Do you know... BlackCall?"

Some people criticized the excessive nationalism (often called gukppong, or "national pride overdose"), but to The Dawn, none of that really mattered.

"Now's the time to stay humble."

They were a group that had only recently found a bit of popularity in Korea and was just starting to get noticed abroad.

If they were a group like BlackCall, who had already made it to the top or were steadily building global recognition, they could've enjoyed the overseas attention with confidence—but The Dawn wasn't there yet.

"The Dawn flaunting Korean pride? That's ridiculous...at least for now."

Moreover, getting involved in "gukppong" content made them vulnerable to criticism from fans of other groups. It was risky.

If a top-tier group like BlackCall got written up for expressing national pride, that was one thing—but if The Dawn did it, people would react with, "Who even are they?" or "Don't make things up." The reactions would be cold at best.

Some might even accuse them of having an inflated ego.

The fandom was already at MAX fatigue from constant comparisons to Hi5 and worries about a potential overseas tour.

Popularity naturally attracted trolls and haters, but there was no reason to hand them ammunition on a silver platter.

Besides…

"These Noeuls… their instincts are no joke."

They'd instantly sniffed out the signs of an overseas tour.

This Berlin concert was just the beginning—Daepaseong was planning a full-blown overseas tour behind the scenes.

To the agency, this was a perfect and natural transition. But how could the Korean fans not know? Especially the Noeuls, who had been there since the group's rookie days and had weathered every storm?

That's why it was important to give them a sense of pride about their overseas success—but to do it in a restrained way.

"Okay."

Having reached that conclusion, I got up right after the plane took off.

Judging by the way the documentary crew was operating, it was clear they were going to focus on the "Korean Wave sweeping through Europe" narrative. So we had to manage our image carefully.

I scanned the members from head to toe and picked the one most likely to cause a problem.

"Kim Seonghyeon, switch seats with me."

"Huh? Sure."

Even though I asked out of nowhere, Kim Seonghyeon obediently moved. I immediately took the seat he had been in and leaned into the one next to it.

"Jeong Dajun."

"Wah! You scared me—why are you sitting here, hyung?"

Jeong Dajun, who had reclined his seat all the way back, pulled out his earphones and looked at me with wide eyes.

"Because I missed you."

"Why do you talk like that?"

I decided to run a little simulation with our most unpredictable member.

I snatched the "Fall in Love with Europe" travel guidebook from his hands and spoke in a low voice.

"Let's say the documentary team comes up to you and asks, 'There seems to be a huge local response. What are your thoughts?'"

"What are you talking about?"

"Quick—how would you describe your feelings in one word?"

Dajun tilted his head slightly, as if thinking, and then slowly opened his mouth.

"Do you know... The Dawn?"

"Say that again and I'm not speaking to you for a month."

"...!!"

"Okay, second question."

I ignored the stunned Dajun and quickly scanned our surroundings.

Thankfully, no one was paying attention.

"There's a new YouTube video titled, 'Why Foreigners Faint the Moment K-pop Idols Pick Up the Mic.' Why do you think that is?"

"…Because they must be K-pop gods?"

"Wrong. It's just clickbait."

"What? Clickbait?"

Dajun was shocked again.

But now that he'd matured a bit, he was starting to pick up on where I was going with this.

Satisfied that the youngest was getting smarter, I threw one final question.

"Last one. A foreigner suddenly appears and says they're a Noeul. They flew all the way to Germany just to see us. What do you say?"

"That's freaking amazing!!" …Can I say that?"

"…Are you kidding me?"

Nope. Still immature.

I clicked my tongue and pinched his chubby cheek.

"Of course you can. To Noeuls, we always respond with absolute, heartfelt gratitude."

"...!!"

Jeong Dajun realized he'd fallen into a trap and looked at me with betrayed eyes, but I ignored him and pulled up the blanket. He looked much better than when he shouted "Do you know…?" earlier. Since we still had a long flight to Berlin, there was plenty of time to brief Dajun on what to watch out for.

"Hyung, I'll do well!"

"Do as you wish."

But there was one thing I didn't tell Dajun. Those who set their mind to do something will get dragged into it—even if they just breathe, they'll be linked to headlines like "K‑idol overwhelmed by emotional foreign fan" or "Nation‑pride overdose caught on camera." Despite our caution, YouTube clips feeding into "nationalistic pride" would inevitably surface because we were the performers.

The documentary crew relentlessly followed us, asking:

"Mr. Jeong Dajun, the local reaction is intense—what do you think?"

"Dajun, how do you feel seeing the concert poster just now?"

"What's it like to sing in Korean abroad?"

I respect their professionalism, but we had to look out for ourselves first. Dajun deflected each question like a parrot:

"I'll work really hard!"

"Yes, I feel I need to perform more passionately!"

"I'll burn with effort!"

As for Kang Ichae, he kept his composure, not showing interest in the documentary. Seong Ji‑won, with his veteran trainee instincts, knew the drill and stayed in line. Kim Seonghyeon even took on the leader's role, subtly covering my intention to dodge the trap—and he handled it well.

"Hmph, the interviews are tougher than I thought."

"If they don't get what they want, they'll soon move on."

True enough, the documentary crew gave up and left for another group once they sensed it wasn't working.

I was pleased—they could focus elsewhere. Now, it was my turn to take the stage.

The venue was packed beyond expectation, which sent a jolt of excitement up my spine.

We performed four songs: Falling Down, Kismet, Ocean Train, and Stardust, in a roughly 20‑minute set. The crowd joined in, singing along in Korean.

I chuckled: Looks like the documentary team will have enough "national‑pride" content after all.

Then I saw hi5 act Kang Yeonhu on the big screen—smiling in the center. He had clearly improved since the survival show. WH Entertainment's training must be working.

Seong Ji‑won watched intently, soaking in every move from hi‑five and LiaPurple's performances.

"Hey, Hyung, want to practice more back at the dorm?" he asked excitedly.

"Why are you joking?"

"…Lately I've been feeling sharp."

Seong Ji‑won pouted playfully, but I didn't react—knowing he wouldn't actually be upset. He quickly moved on and laughed as he went off to find the next target of his "practice hell."

What a force.

Phase one, "Avoid National‑Pride Overload," needed a strong finish.

After the concert we rented an entire restaurant for a celebration. I scanned the crowd for a target.

"Ah… Mr. Seo Hoyun," someone said.

"PD-nim," I greeted, spotting the documentary's main producer, PD Choi, nearby. He looked a bit reluctant—perhaps disappointed our group hadn't given them the dramatic scenes they hoped for.

"Thank you for your hard work. Must've been tough coming abroad."

"Ah, not really. Just a shame we couldn't get stronger interviews."

"Nonsense—it was filmed masterfully. You've clearly got international experience."

"Eh?"

PD Choi's expression shifted when I replied:

"I watched your German Pilgrimage documentary from the year before last."

"What—You did??"

The cigarette dropped from his hand.

"That one bombed, didn't it??"

"Not at all! The techniques you used earned awards and landed you other projects. It was only possible because of that doc. I loved it—really inspiring, PD-nim."

"What?!"

That's the nature of obsessives—we can't help talking about what we love. PD Choi lit up, describing his film techniques and storyboarding for over half an hour.

"Man, you're passionate, articulate, even during dry rehearsals you gave it your all. That's idol dedication!"

"You actually included that?"

"Of course! That scene is unforgettable. Editing's gonna shine."

PD Choi left smiling, humming a tune and giving a thumbs-up.

Great.

I returned, feeling satisfied with the answer.

But outside the restaurant, Kang Yeon‑hu was crouched at the corner, shaking his head.

"Trickster…"

"Ah, sorry, startled me."

"Senior, I've been looking everywhere for you."

"The cameras aren't rolling, junior."

Kang Yeonhu, having seen my true colors more than once, dismissed my businesslike tone without hesitation.

"You really amaze me. Did you memorize a script or something? I'm shocked every time by how smooth your talk is."

"I'm amazed too. How someone who knows that still falls for it every time."

"..."

I ignored his muttering and tried to walk past, but then I noticed a line of empty beer cans next to him.

In the end, I couldn't help but comment on how pathetic he looked.

"What are you doing out here drinking alone like some loser?"

"Cameras might not be rolling, but can't you speak a little nicer?"

He added that he was just enjoying the exotic atmosphere of being abroad. Then, out of the blue, he asked,

"How did you do it? The quality of your performance was on another level."

That was something I should've asked him.

"Well, the kids worked hard, so…"

"No, I mean you, Seo Hoyun. You were amazing."

"...Huh?"

Me? The klutz?

I raised one eyebrow and looked at him, and Yeonhu clicked his tongue.

"Your skills have improved since Shining Star, sure, but more than that… there's something about you that draws people in. Honestly, it makes sense that senior Joo Woosung praised you."

"Joo Woosung said what now?"

"…So you're not even calling him senior anymore?"

What kind of bullshit was this?

That guy always started by chewing me out, saying things like, "Why are you even an idol if you're going to dance like that?"

I'd heard "Hoyun, do you even want to be a singer?" from him so many times, it could've been tattooed on my eardrums.

What the hell? Was he saying nice things behind my back?

With a hint of pride, I waited for Yeonhu to continue.

"Yeah, he complimented you."

Yeonhu looked up at me and said,

"He called you a guy who pushes through with just his face and guts."

"..."

Then, without a care, he took a long sip of beer.

Was that supposed to be a compliment, you bastard?

---

1. From Produce 101 (2016.01.22 - 2016.04.01), episode 4, when trainer Bae Yoon-jung said, "So you want to be a singer?" to trainee Kim Sohye.