The Idol Training Simulation I Messed Up

Chapter 4

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If Iris was separated into a different label, did the senior idols also move with them?

Aren’t those Monocle guys there too?

└ It’s not Monocle, it’s Monochrome.

└ It’s an exclusive label for Iris, so why would the senior idols move?

└ Not exclusive, it’s an artist label.

└ Really? They must have just wanted to take Iris. It’s natural for the company to focus on a successful group.

└ That comment above is really annoying, lol.

└ Well, if you don’t like it, why don’t you suggest it to Newma?

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***

[Boss, the team’s atmosphere has been uneasy lately.]

[Manager, if you’re talking about those rumors, they’re unfounded…]

[Ahem. If everything went smoothly in group living, people like me wouldn’t be needed, would we? Let’s try to manage without any noise.]

Being ignored and silenced repeatedly. Eventually, I stopped speaking.

No matter how unfair I felt, if no one listened, it was meaningless. It would only create an image of me as a troublesome person who just complained.

There are people in this world who overcame absurdities and continuously asserted themselves until they were finally acknowledged, but their stories became inspirational because they had such great determination.

I wasn’t that kind of great person.

I saw my past self reflected in Woohyung.

The difference was that he hadn’t given up speaking yet.

‘To have survived in this unstable industry for five years…’

One couldn’t endure with just average determination.

What I knew was five years, but in reality, he must have gone through an even longer preparation period.

I had been foolish to judge him simply as a game character.

I hadn’t considered that they might have their own perspectives.

‘Of course, who would get overly immersed in a game character in a simulation game like My Enter!’

It wasn’t about empathy. My Enter was a game conducted strictly from the representative’s viewpoint.

The past of this world was identical to my gameplay.

The fact that I didn’t know what the members were thinking while I played meant that, from the start, there was no room for their opinions in this company.

It was just a system where they managed and followed the orders of the real power holder.

And that power holder was me.

‘Ugh…’

Overwhelmed by the tormenting thoughts, I raised my hands and smacked my head hard.

If I didn’t do that, I felt like I wouldn’t be able to lift my head.

“Ugh, oh my…”

“Why, what’s wrong?”

Woohyung, who had been at the door, looked confused and stood awkwardly, unsure whether to stop me or not.

No! Don’t stop me. I need to get hit!

***

The members of Monochrome returned to the practice room after being called to the director’s office.

The meeting with the new director was brief, but the atmosphere wasn’t good.

Everyone was checking their phones or stretching awkwardly without daring to speak, and then a staff member from the Secretary team came back down and took only the leader, Woohyung, out.

From what they remembered, that Secretary was a stern man who focused only on his work. It made them hesitant to ask what was going on.

Woohyung’s shoulders looked heavy as he followed the Secretary in his black suit out of the practice room alone.

Although they were all trainees and members, it was always the leader who took responsibility in such moments.

Silence fell again, and after a while, the practice room door opened again.

All eyes focused on Woohyung, whose expression was indescribably complex.

Usually, even if he heard something bad, he would force a smile or, if he couldn’t manage that, maintain a stern expression. But this was the first time he had such a blank look.

One of the members, Yoo Han-yi, spoke up.

“Is there a problem?”

He asked courageously, knowing he might hear something he didn’t want to.

In reality, his face showed his unease despite his bravery.

Facing the gazes of the four members, Woohyung recalled the conversation he had in the director’s office.

The new director had suddenly grabbed her head and then leaned on the desk with her head down.

At first, Woohyung thought she was angry because he wanted to release a self-composed song.

Ah, I guess I’m not in a position to voice such opinions yet. He bit his lip, feeling complicated.

Even though it was called a member’s self-composed song, it was the same as asking to use an unverified composer’s work.

However, the director’s answer was unexpected.

[Do it.]

[Pardon?]

[Do whatever you want. Release a self-composed song or whatever.]

She said with a stern face.

But somehow, she didn’t seem to want to meet Woohyung’s eyes.

‘…Is she serious?’

Even Woohyung, who had spoken to her directly, couldn’t fully understand her intentions.

Did she really mean to do as he wanted, or was she saying to try it and see whether it succeeded or failed?

It sounded like she was speaking out of ignorance of the industry, as she had claimed.

It also seemed like her emotional display had some personal reasons.

Because of this, he didn’t intend to relay the exact words to the members.

But it wasn’t a bad reaction that would make the members worry so much. At least it wasn’t the ‘worst case’ everyone feared.

“She said she’d consider our opinions as much as possible. She also said she’d positively review the self-composed song.”

The members sighed in relief at Woohyung’s answer, but the mood wasn’t one of joy.

“…That’s the same thing they always say.”

The youngest, Hyun Jun-hae, said in a disgruntled voice.

As he said, it was the usual response from the company to pacify them during tough times.

At least they were not scolded, which was a relief, but it wasn’t a hopeful answer either.

After all, when scheduled events were canceled or expected profits didn’t come in, the company would change their tune.

The memory of being told to worry about the present instead of the next album when the investment in the current album couldn’t be recovered was still fresh. Whether it was true or not, when they said such things, the members couldn’t argue.

“The company has changed a lot. We’re the only group they have now.”

“It’s changed, but the staff has been halved…”

Woohyung tried to lighten the mood, but Chae Yunhwan added.

As he said, the number of artist management staff at Newma Entertainment had been almost halved.

Half had moved to Newrain, and some of the remaining staff had been transferred to the actor management team.

While others were starting anew, what were those left behind supposed to do?

The practice room, with only five people, felt even more empty.

“Do you believe her?”

Baek Haerang broke the silence by asking.

He wasn’t passing judgment to the leader, but as a group, they had to move as one.

If the leader believed, they would follow. The members trusted him more than the company.

Even though they had renewed their contracts, the group’s activities were still uncertain. Everyone saw this 2-year contract period as Monochrome’s last chance.

“…We have no choice but to believe.”

A lifeline had been thrown down.

Whether it was a strong rope or a rotten one, they couldn’t tell.

Monochrome had no choice but to grab her hand.

***

Because of the quest goals, I had only thought about the future. But after talking with Woohyung, I realized I needed to learn about Monochrome’s past.

Left alone in the director’s office, I reviewed the mistakes I had made over the past five years.

‘Ugh… Ugh…’

The documents were almost unbearable to look at.

Monochrome. Fortunately, at least the group name was properly chosen.

The My Enter official community was quite active. Many people posted about their groups and looked at other users’ groups.

I remembered being part of that community, feeling vicariously satisfied by receiving attention, and I had put a lot of thought into the name.

But the problem wasn’t the group name.

I reviewed Monochrome’s music videos one by one.

First was the debut album, which stuck to the concept of black and white, as suggested by the group name. The title track was .

The video, mainly in grayscale like an old film, had a reasonably vintage feel and wasn’t bad.

According to the accompanying documents, the unique aesthetic had garnered a decent public response.

‘Interesting…’

In the game, I could only see the success rate and profits when an album was released, but seeing the finished songs and videos like this felt surreal.

Though I still didn’t remember their faces, thinking they were the ones I had just met made it even more fascinating.

However, after the first album, which stayed true to the group’s color, the concepts became inconsistent and scattered.

There were concepts aimed at being sexy and others focused on powerful dance moves.

I remembered why it had come to this state.

‘I tried everything…’

Back then, as a game newbie, not knowing what would work, I had tried all the available concepts once.

During that time, the refreshing and cute concepts had generated good profits, so as a virtual entertainment representative with no money, I kept using those.

Continuously. Only that. For several years in the game!

‘Idiot! Such concepts might work once or twice for rookies, but not beyond that!’

It was clear as day, but I hadn’t considered it back then.

When Monochrome was in its third year, I had used my game knowledge to form a new group, Iris, and focused on them.

And what is this!

‘An album named <12345>?! Are you insane, Shin Joo-in?!’

I tore at my hair again when I saw that a hastily entered album name was taking up space in their discography.

If it at least had some meaningful intent, but it didn’t! The only connection seemed to be the lyrics ‘one, two, three, four, five,’ referring to the five members.

The closer the release date, the more absurd it was.

Most were digital singles, which didn’t incur CD production costs. Some were released without music videos.

I couldn’t bear to watch all the disasters I had created and closed the playback screen.

Like the repetitive concepts, the songs also became the epitome of self-plagiarism as they went on.

Looking at the composition and arrangement staff, I noticed that from a certain point, they were all from the in-house composing team. This indicated that not much money had been spent on production.

‘If I had known it would turn out like this, I wouldn’t have done it…’

Confronted with the careless actions I had taken in the game as if they were reality, I felt immense guilt.

To recover what I had ruined over five years in just two years and elevate it to the top.

Though they say you reap what you sow, wasn’t this the highest level of difficulty?

I wanted to cry. I wasn’t an industry insider, just a game user.

Whether the members would cooperate was secondary; I would need a lot of help from the staff first.

Secretary Choi was competent, but since she was in the Secretary team, it would be hard to get significant help in artist management.

Newma Entertainment had two teams directly involved with artists: the Production Team and the Management Team.

Other entertainment companies had A&R teams or various production departments, but in this game company, it seemed to be roughly combined into these two teams.

For someone like me, who didn’t know the industry well, this simplified structure was easy to understand.

I knew the structure roughly, so whom should I meet first?

What I wanted to know now was…

‘The size and status of the fandom.’

For idols, a fandom is essential. After checking the results, I wanted to know the state of the fandom that had experienced this directly.

Surely, someone in the company would be well aware of this.

As I was contemplating which team that might be, someone knocked on the director’s office door.

When I told them to come in, a small-framed woman with round glasses and a single ponytail entered, accompanied by an Secretary who opened the door.

“I’m Lee Yun-hee from the management team, in charge of Monochrome’s fan management.”

“Oh! I was just looking for…”

Hearing her title, I immediately knew she was the one dealing with fan-related matters.

She was exactly the right person I needed to understand the fandom situation.

I was about to greet her warmly, but she approached faster than I could greet.

“Here. Take this.”

She placed a white envelope on the desk. My gaze naturally followed her hand to the envelope.

The envelope she handed over without hesitation… was a resignation letter.