GISCS CH 02

Chapter 2

Without even needing to look further, the group’s next album was a complete failure.

Fans and the general public tried to rationalize it, saying it was only because they were confused after a member left, and they waited for the next album with hope—but that album didn’t even make it onto the charts.

The external team the CEO had confidently brought in simply couldn’t understand the members’ abilities the way I did.

The quality difference between an album I carefully crafted to suit each member and one made by outsiders who barely understood them was like night and day.

The CEO even rushed to add an untrained foreign member, but it only made things worse.

[Comments]

• “It’s so obvious they brought him in to replace Choi Seong-un. If they were going to do that, at least get someone talented… he’s not even close.”
• “At least Seong-un had skill lol.”
• “Daniel’s high notes are a disaster…”
• “If you’re going to leave the fandom, just leave quietly.”
• “Daniel encore stage skill reveal”
  • “Uh… isn’t this bad?”
  • “Idols are supposed to sing…”
  • “Putting in someone this untrained is…”
  • “I LOVEEE DANIEL!!!!”
• “Why is this album so bad…?”
  • “Maybe it’s just your imagination.”
  • “No, the parts don’t match their vocal tones, the choreography is messy, and there’s no highlight point. Even the concept feels outdated…”
• “We’re definitely not winning any awards with this one.”
• “I think I’m about to leave the fandom…”
  • “Take a break if it’s hard…”
  • “It’s not that… they’ve lost their passion. They don’t communicate anymore. Seong-un used to handle that too…”
• “This recording… was disappointing…”
  • “They don’t even do encores or interact properly with fans anymore.”

The foreign member couldn’t handle the harsh backlash from K-pop fans and constant comparisons to me, so he ran back to his home country.

It was obvious that would happen.

After I left, articles and comments criticizing me flooded in. I thought about explaining myself, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Honestly, I don’t even remember half of it. It must have been so shocking that my mind erased it on its own. It wasn’t something I wanted to remember anyway.

Since I was no longer tied to an agency, I tried to continue as an individual, but my former company kept dragging me down, as if they couldn’t stand seeing me succeed.

I didn’t even have the strength to fight back anymore.

So I fell.

I was exhausted.

People might call me pathetic or stupid, but I didn’t want to do anything.

At the psychiatric clinic, they said I had severe depression, social anxiety, and signs of alcohol dependence and recommended treatment—but I refused.

I didn’t care enough about living to go that far.

The life I had fought so hard for collapsed in an instant.

[Breaking News]
MazeBoy transitions to individual activities… The agency states, “not disbanded.”

In the end, the group split into individual activities. It didn’t even last the one year the CEO had talked about.

I spent my days drinking with the money I had earned and the royalties that still came in. At least I didn’t have to worry about money.

Even though my body still hesitated out of habit from my idle days, I ended up drinking six cans instead of stopping at one.

My stomach felt full from beer alone. I knew I’d suffer from a hangover the next morning, but I couldn’t stop myself.

I grew more disappointed in myself, more depressed, sinking further instead of moving forward.

A life with no progress. No future. I didn’t actively try to die, but I had no will to live either.

I just lay there like a corpse, staring at the ceiling.

[Posts]

• “Compilation of false accusations against Choi Seong-un.”
• “All those exposés were fake?!”
• “We lost a true gem in the idol industry…”
• “MazeBoy fell apart after he left… if not for the rumors, they’d still be top-tier…”
• “Daniel’s skills are legendary.”
  • “Legendary in a bad way.”
• “The concepts don’t fit them anymore… everything feels off.”
• “Why did Seong-un just leave so easily? He should’ve fought back…”
• “Seriously… he should’ve sued or something.”

If only they had trusted me a little more, I could’ve held on.

I remembered the fans who insulted me in my own fan café.

The sound of something shattering echoed in my head, along with a crushing sense of betrayal.

I kept scrolling, even though I knew there was nothing good to see.

• “Are you insane? What kind of things were you saying back then?”
• “The company was involved too? Apparently Seong-un was the only one given a contract full of unfair clauses.”
• “Legendary idols from that era.”
  • “Seong-un… he could do everything—dance, vocals, visuals, producing…”
  • “I miss him… can he come back?”
  • “Any updates?”
  • “Where did he go?”
  • “At this point, did he just disappear somewhere?”

An update? I’m just sitting at home, drinking.

And of course there are no sightings—I never leave the house.

With social anxiety, how could I?

And what could I even do? The only thing I knew how to do was perform.

My mother had long passed away. I had no friends left.

I was completely alone.

Fifteen years of nonstop work—and now, because of baseless rumors, I was dragged off the stage.

And now they say I should come back?

It’s easy to destroy a person, isn’t it?

My phone, now basically useless, vibrated.

There shouldn’t be anyone contacting me.

[Shin Woo-joo: Want to be a lead producer?]

It was a former teammate.

I threw the phone onto the bed in irritation.

I craved alcohol.

But the fridge was empty.

“…Damn.”

I hesitated but eventually gave in.

Wearing a mask, hoodie, and sunglasses, I went out.

At the convenience store—

“ID, please.”

Right. Of course.

“…I, uh… left it at home.”

My voice came out hoarse.

I turned to leave.

“Wait… are you… from MazeBoy…?”

My heart started racing.

My body trembled. My breathing became uneven.

“…No.”

I ran out.

Did they recognize me?

My vision darkened as I ran.

Then—

Honk—!

Bang.

Yellow headlights.

Like stage lights.

My body lifted—

And fell.

Voices. People filming.

Of course. Even at the end, I’d make the news.

“Did he die?”
“Move aside!”
“He’s an idol!”

Maybe it was for the best.

I never really wanted to live anyway.

“119 is here!”

Click.

With the sound of a camera flash—

My consciousness faded.

* * *

“Son, are you listening?”

…Blink.

I opened my eyes.

My mother stood in front of me.

“…Huh? Sorry… what did you say?”

“I think it’s too early to drop out. You haven’t even really tried yet. You need to think about your future.”

Drop out?

This was… high school.

I had decided to quit back then because of bullying and trainee life.

But—

Wasn’t I just hit by a car?

“…I’ll think about it more.”

“Okay. What do you want for dinner?”

“I’m not hungry.”

I rushed into my room and checked the calendar.

“What is this?”

I had gone from a failed, alcoholic life—

Back to being a first-year high school student.