Episode 69: All-Out House Raid
Once again, E-GIS left for rehearsal, leaving us alone as Bong Cheol-jin began unraveling the backstory.
“How do things fit together so perfectly?”
First point.
Three weeks ago, Sunshine’s girl group UniC, which had been dominating first place since their comeback on Live Music Center, ended their promotions yesterday on Song for You.
With Live Music Center’s unique “Triple Crown” rule—graduating a song after three wins—there’s no point in returning when they wouldn’t even qualify as a first-place candidate, making it a waste of time.
That created the first vacancy among the three first-place slots.
Second point.
“‘Rexley’ got busted for chart manipulation, so they’re completely out.”
The four-year-old boy group Rexley, roughly 1.5-tier in popularity, had their chart manipulation suspicions confirmed last night.
It’s natural to believe In a favorite artist, but Rexley’s fandom had reacted emotionally to prior rumors, and now both the group and their fans are facing backlash.
The Live Music Center team acted swiftly, nullifying Rexley’s 50% music score weightage to zero, effectively eliminating them and opening the second slot.
‘So this is replaying.’
Rexley’s chart manipulation exposure happened in my past life too.
Their hired agency didn’t just boost streams but paired it with viral shorts and reels to dodge suspicion.
The issue? That space is now dominated by my Shooting star.
The strategy backfired, halving their expected chart surge, leaving Rexley dissatisfied and demanding a refund. The agency retaliated by leaking the recordings, causing a self-inflicted downfall.
In my past life, Polaris played this role—though seven months later.
‘Serves them right, those jerks.’
I feel no sympathy for Rexley.
A group with no real skill, full of arrogance and pointless hierarchy, they never stood a chance against our strong fandom but relentlessly targeted E-GIS, a memory that lingers.
‘Karma, pure and simple.’
The irony of the same pattern is almost humorous.
They’ll likely vanish from other programs next week.
‘Leaving us another gift before they go.’
Ending their reign six months early deserves a bow, though it’s not something I can boast about.
I held back a laugh inwardly when—
“Suhyuk, the fans sent lunchboxes as a reverse gift. Could you grab them?”
“Oh, yes. I’ll be right back.”
Bong Cheol-jin sent Suhyuk out.
The reason seemed normal, but a thick unease hung in the air.
Click.
The moment Suhyuk closed the door, Bong Cheol-jin’s expression hardened, confirming my hunch wasn’t wrong.
“I’ll step out for a bit too.”
“You will?”
“Yes. It looks like something I shouldn’t hear.”
“Well, Na-hee-ssi can stay, but…”
Despite Bong Cheol-jin’s protest, Yoon Na-hee stood up.
Having worked in the industry for over a decade with Lee Ahjeong, she sensed the gravity of the upcoming talk.
With her gone, Bong Cheol-jin scratched the back of his head and got to the point.
“Sorry, Yujin-ssi.”
“For what?”
“Actually, I got the first-place candidate notice for Music Center a while ago.”
Bowing, he admitted the call on ‘On Stage’ shoot day was from the Live Music Center PD.
“They said you’d likely fill UniC’s spot, so they asked for a solid stage prep.”
No wonder this stage felt extra intense.
Being the last slot and with SBC’s ties to MyWay, I’d assumed that was why.
I can guess his mindset too.
“I thought Rexley made it unlikely. I didn’t mention it to avoid disappointing you. I feel guilty toward the Highly kids too. I know you’re thoughtful, but emotions don’t always cooperate.”
True.
Even I, upon hearing the candidate news, quickly thought, ‘Rexley might make it tough.’
Having watched Highly struggle for first despite dozens of tries, Bong Cheol-jin’s caution makes sense.
But Rexley’s exit changed the game.
He must’ve calculated a real chance now.
“Broadcast and album scores are negligible, and Flyup, in third, lacks album points too.”
My SBC appearance tally is likely zero, and Shooting star, a digital single, won’t boost album scores much.
But—
“Viewer pre-vote scores are high. That’s why you filled UniC’s spot initially.”
My entry into UniC’s place means I was fourth originally.
That implies my pre-vote score outweighs the near-zero broadcast and album points.
With Music Center requiring three acts, I likely benefited as a “non-threatening, likable artist.”
‘Music Center’s criteria… broadcast, album, and pre-vote, all 5% each, right?’
Album scores are similar for both, broadcast favors Flyup, and pre-votes favor me.
“Music rankings and YouTube views are dominating now, but the criteria use last week’s data. Music and SNS scores will likely be close.”
“So it’ll come down to live voting.”
“Probably.”
“Hmm… I’m getting the picture.”
Today’s Live Music Center first-place battle is a rare, once-in-two-or-three-years house raid opportunity.
Flyup’s seasoned fandom is likely already mobilizing for an all-out push.
Bong Cheol-jin’s delay in telling me until sending Suhyuk out starts to make sense.
‘Well, it’s still too early to tell Suhyuk about this.’
He’s still full of dreams and hopes for the industry.
He’ll find out eventually, but—
‘Why rush the good news?’
Let him taste the real world a bit more before spilling it.
In that sense, confirming this with me feels a tad off.
“Ailee said you’d feel less uneasy if things are laid out openly rather than done behind your back.”
“True, that does suit me better.”
I considered pondering it but decided against it.
‘Zia did say she wanted to watch this, didn’t she?’
If I return with a trophy after all this, she’d be thrilled, not upset, probably.
Still, one thing needs checking for smoother work ahead.
“If I take first place, will Hylliy feel bad?”
Kids who’ve never won, watching a non-idol junior—me, with just one week of music show rounds—claim their long-held dream first? Hardly a happy scenario.
My question, laced with that intent, made Bong Cheol-jin widen his small eyes in surprise before shaking his head with a laugh.
“No way. They’d celebrate like it’s their own win. The team leader handpicked them for that spirit.”
“Then let’s get started. You seem ready.”
The answer’s set.
“Yes. I’ll step out briefly when Suhyuk returns.”
I nod slightly and lean back in my chair.
My fandom might not rival a girl group’s yet, but—
‘What if MyWay steps in?’
***
Woo Zia had never made friends her age.
Growing up in an orphanage and carrying the title of Han Yujin’s girlfriend during his peak popularity, she faced relentless bullying after her first month of high school in March, earning her the nickname “bitch” for three years.
No female peers approached her.
Add Han Yujin’s disinterest in friendships beyond music and her, and Zia lacked any chance to feel camaraderie.
Post-graduation, she delayed college to support him, working tirelessly, making the word “friend” feel foreign.
“Hey, Choi Eun-woo, where’s that?!”
“This was mine to begin with!”
“Ugh, Choi Eun-woo, Go Se-na, fight outside. So noisy.”
This lively chaos is tough for Zia to adjust to.
Yet, a part of her always yearned for it.
“Zia, why’s there lettuce but no meat?”
A smile crept onto her face as someone approached.
The slightly clumsy but fluent Korean came from Sora, a Hylliy member.
“Oh, this is lettuce wrap fry. It’s famous in Jeolla region.”
“Fried lettuce?”
“No, you wrap the fry in lettuce and eat it.”
“Ooh, a delicacy?”
“Yeah, a treat. First time for me too.”
Yujin had warned against high-calorie foods for Hylliy, especially Sora.
But seeing the Japanese member’s sparkling eyes at an unfamiliar dish, Zia couldn’t resist.
Thus, another party erupted at Hylliy’s dorm.
But their joy wouldn’t last long.
“Zia-ya, spoiling them like this will make it harder for them later. What about Sora’s belly fat?”
Their landlord, senior in the industry, and company executive Lee Ahjeong stormed in like thunder.
“Z… Zia didn’t… I asked for it…”
“Ew, I get your hearts, but too much leniency… Ugh, fine. You’ll deal with the consequences. Eat what’s ready, then burn it off before bed.”
Sora’s timid defense, hands raised, softened Ahjeong’s stern face to pity.
“Lettuce wrap fry? Only Jeolla folks know this. How’d you find out? Did you fry it yourself?”
“Yes…”
“And the kimchi pancakes last time. No wonder the kids went wild.”
She eventually became their accomplice.
“But do one task with me as compensation.”
Ahjeong framed it as overlooking their mischief, knowing this might happen, having blocked their manager’s visit to handle it herself.
Her reveal widened six pairs of eyes to their limits, one clearly an outsider, yet Ahjeong felt no discord.
‘Phew. Hold back. The time’s not right yet.’
Did Seo Yoonje feel this way meeting her first?
The thought flashed through Ahjeong’s mind briefly.
“Is Yujin really a first-place candidate?”
The outsider, Zia, glanced at the five Hylliy members before asking.
“Yeah. So the company’s stepping in to support. Sorry to Flyup, but Yujin-ssi’s out next week, giving them a shot then.”
The casual reply triggered unexpected reactions, flustering Zia.
“Wow! Zia, congrats!”
“Wait, is this my win to celebrate… Are you guys okay?”
“Huh? What?”
“Bittersweet, but it’s Zia’s boyfriend, so we’ll let it slide.”
“Yujin-ssi’s songs are great. Shooting star’s a masterpiece.”
“Honestly, a song like that deserves first.”
“Should we do a challenge?”
“Is there a part in Shooting star for a challenge?”
“No time now. Do it on SNS.”
Ahjeong curbed Hylliy’s enthusiastic outburst amplifying Zia’s confusion.
“Huh? E-GIS? They’re helping too? There’s a photo with Yujin-ssi online!”
“Oh, Zia must be jealous.”
“Yeah, I’d think so too!”
Amid Zia’s embarrassed blush and rising laughter, MyWay’s all-out support call rang out.