BLDGF 15

Chapter 15

“Whose mentor are you planning to take?”

“I…”

I pretended to hesitate and looked toward the camera to buy some time.

A broadcast begins with drama and ends with drama.

Knowing Producer Oh’s style, he’ll probably cut the scene right here for dramatic effect. Gotta give him that editing point.

The more I stir the pot, the more screen time I’ll get.

“I won’t take anyone’s mentor.”

Producer Oh looked genuinely shocked, his already small eyes widening as much as they could.

“Why… why not? You’ll be at a disadvantage without a mentor.”

But he quickly pulled himself together and began trying to persuade me.

“During missions, mentors help with arrangements, choreography, and training. You’ll lose out on all of that. Are you really willing to give up those advantages?”

He looked at me suspiciously, clearly not understanding.

“Trainee Yooncheong, are you that confident in your skills? Saying you don’t need a mentor— Or is it that no one but your agency’s CEO matters to you?”

I could feel it instinctively.

This is going to be broadcast with huge text.

With some meaningful background music, too.

I could already hear it in my head.

Caption: The trainee who rejected a mentor—Yooncheong. The reason is…?

I had to answer carefully now.

What I said here would define how I’d be edited going forward.

If I said I wasn’t confident, I’d come off as a weak-minded fool.

If I said I was, I’d seem like an arrogant trainee disrespecting veteran idols.

The first option would be boring, the second would make me the show’s villain.

And I couldn’t start off the show as a villain.

“It’s not like that at all. I actually think mentors are really important. That’s why I decided not to take one from another trainee.”

I tried my best to sound calm.

But I couldn’t let my face go stiff.

“Then how do you plan to prepare for the performance? Without a mentor?”

Perfect.

As soon as I heard Producer Oh’s question, I was cheering on the inside.

This was the question I’d been waiting for.

“Instead of taking another trainee’s mentor—”

I took a deep breath.

“I’ll make my own mentor.”

“…?”

I exhaled.

Producer Oh looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

But I held that unpleasant gaze and looked straight into the camera.

“I’m going to ask the other trainees for help. I’ll make my fellow trainees, who’ve been watching me all along, into my mentors.”

“!”

Producer Oh looked surprised again.

But this time, it was closer to a good kind of surprise.

“I see what you mean.”

“…Would that be allowed?”

I deliberately asked for Producer Oh’s permission.

People like him love it when others ask for their permission.

Why?

Because if I insisted on doing things my way, he’d feel the urge to put me in my place.

That’s just how people like him are.

They place a lot of importance on authority.

“Well… it’s definitely unexpected.”

Sure enough, his expression softened immediately.

“But I don’t think it’s a bad idea. Could be fun. Don’t you think, Writer Kang?”

“I think it could work. It’s not uncommon for trainees to help each other in audition programs. We can just make that a more formal thing.”

The head writer, Writer Kang, nodded in agreement.

I let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Thank goodness.

“But here’s the thing…”

Producer Oh smirked.

“Are you confident the other trainees will actually help you? This is still a competition. And I probably shouldn’t be the one to say this, but… the other trainees consider you a strong debut candidate.”

I stayed silent.

Having that comment broadcast wouldn’t be good.

Being called a strong candidate felt great, of course.

But once it was on the air, it would cause more harm than good.

Why?

Two reasons.

First, I’d become a target.

Said nicely, it’s called being “watched closely.” Said honestly, it means becoming everyone’s enemy.

And thinking about future voting—this was the worst position to be in.

Second, I’d become the “Oh, she’ll definitely make it anyway” type. The one who doesn’t get votes because people assume others will vote for her and instead vote for someone more desperate.

It’s happened on many audition shows.

Seemingly safe candidates getting eliminated.

Why?

Because of that very thinking.

I wanted nothing more than to shut Producer Oh’s mouth right then.

But I couldn’t say something like “I don’t think I’ll debut.” Showing a lack of confidence wouldn’t help either.

People don’t find the unconfident charming.

Sure, I might get some sympathy votes at first.

But those are just pity votes.

Not popularity.

And there’s a big difference.

“In that situation, do you really think the others will help you?”

It was a valid question.

But also a predictable one.

“Yes.”

“!”

Producer Oh and Writer Kang widened their eyes.

Probably because I answered more firmly than they expected.

“How can you be so sure?”

How could I be so sure?

…Well.

I hesitated a moment before replying.

“It’s not that I’m sure… I just think I have to be.”

“Have to be?”

Producer Oh raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Yes. Because—”

A cramped 8-pyeong (about 280 sq ft) apartment.

On the TV, the most buzzworthy idol survival show was playing.

‘Make a New Color.’

Only episode 3 had aired so far, but the response was explosive.

The raw, unpolished charm of trainees, dramatic editing that pushed boundaries without quite crossing the line.

But in idol survival shows, what matters most is—

“Visuals and talent.”

A Colors fan sitting in her room muttered as she opened a can of beer.

Why was she a fan of the label “Colors” instead of a specific group?

In short: she was a Color-deok.

And she had her own pride in that term.

Why?

Because Colors management was amazing?

Absolutely not.

From her point of view, Colors was terrible at managing artists. They only knew how to squeeze them dry, not treat them right.

But—

“…They do have an eye for talent.”

She didn’t know who Colors’ casting director was, but whoever it was deserved every bit of their salary.

At least, that’s what she thought.

Anyway.

She hadn’t expected much from Make a New Color.

Why?

Because there were already too many Colors idols.

She didn’t want to get invested in another new idol.

Real life was already exhausting.

After work, she felt like collapsing. Getting into a new idol?

Too much of an emotional burden.

So why was she watching?

“…Because it airs on Friday nights!”

Perfect for tired office workers to drink a beer and unwind!

She grumbled to herself while watching.

She didn’t like the company, but the kids were all incredible.

All twelve trainees were absolute gems.

It would hurt to see any of them not debut.

But even among them, there was a standout—someone who just had to debut.

That was the trainee currently speaking—

Producer: “You think they’ll help you?”
[Yooncheong: Yes. Because—]

Yooncheong.

Eight years of Color fandom had taught her.

“Colors’ signature: visuals, talent, stage presence, main vocals…!”

She couldn’t let this one slip.

Still, charm and talent were two different things.

So far, she’d just thought, “Hmm, they’re decent.”

No particularly strong character had emerged yet.

But now—

Something had begun to stir her heart.

[Yooncheong: This survival show isn’t the end.]

Her makeup-free face, her clumsily maintained black hair.

She looked young enough to pass for a high schooler, but she was 20.

[Yooncheong: Whoever debuts, this isn’t the end. The road ahead is long—sometimes full of thorns, sometimes lined with flowers.]

Just listening to her calm tone, she seemed like someone who’d lived through a lot.

It didn’t feel like she was just 20.

But there was a quiet strength in her words that made people nod.

[Yooncheong: We’re people who’ll be walking that path together. We’re destined to support and care for one another.]

…The fan’s heart was starting to tremble.

[Yooncheong: Of course we all want to debut. But we all know that debut isn’t something you achieve alone.]

Yooncheong spoke confidently, with clear eyes from start to finish.

[Yooncheong: We’re a group. I don’t see the others as rivals—I see them as future members.]

Producer: “You sound like you’re sure you’ll debut.”

[Yooncheong: Yes.]

The Yooncheong on screen was truly radiant as she smiled.

[Yooncheong: I believe everyone else is thinking the same. Because we all deserve it.]

And that smile…

Was beginning to reach deep into the heart of one devoted Colors fan.