God Idol Project: Hope [GIPH]

Chapter 26: Through Each Person's Eyes (1)

[Jeton]

On an impulse, I decided to appear on Show Me the Gold 3. I wanted to see what the skill level of Korean rappers was like, and I thought it would be more fun to do hip-hop together with a group of people.

However, the Show Me the Gold 3 set wasn't the raw, rebellious, and straightforward hip-hop lounge I had imagined. Even leaving aside the fact that it was drenched in capitalism, the show was full of edits made to add entertainment value for the audience. 

"So, this is how the show works." 

"Jeton, you underestimated Korean showbiz. TV is tough, you know. Haha."

It was completely different from what I had initially thought. Yet, I found it thrilling in its own way. Even though it felt like the show was set up to deliberately stir up competition or was scripted, it was actually an unpredictable series of events.

Amidst this, I could feel the tension of standing at the edge of a cliff. 

'Do I enjoy bloodthirsty competition? I must have inherited this trait from my parents.'

The sense of accomplishment I got from diving into competition and surviving was incomparable to anything else. Finding this unexpected thrill, I started to enjoy participating in the survival show. 

Battles were fought one-on-one, diss raps were exchanged, and we teamed up for group battles. 

At first, many people struggled to adapt to my unusual flow and word choices, and my Korean pronunciation was still imperfect. But the exhilaration of gradually winning these people over, one by one, was something else! 

The rankings didn't matter. The fun I was having made it all worthwhile to have joined 'Show Me the Gold 3'. Still, my basic skills were solid enough to place within the ranks.

I was glad I had pushed to come to Korea. My parents were always too busy with work to care much about my whereabouts, so it didn't make a difference whether I was overseas or not.

'They probably prefer me being out of the way.'

My father, a university professor, and my mother, a fashion designer, were people obsessed with their own work. We hardly had family meals together—maybe once a month, if that. How they found the time to date, marry, and have me while being so consumed by work was beyond me. 

'I just don't get it.'

They acted like providing a housekeeper and sitter fulfilled their parental duties. While biologically my parents, they felt like distant relatives. 

'They say Koreans have a culture of 'jeong' (affection), but why do my parents lack it? I guess there are exceptions everywhere.'

I didn't have anything I could call childhood memories with them. My parents were more like long-time roommates or patrons than actual guardians. 

"Should I just be thankful they provided a roof over my head, food to eat, and financial support?" 

I didn't want to feel grateful. But it was true that I had received financial support from them. One day, when I start earning my own money, I want to pay them back completely and be done with it. 

All I wanted from our relationship was to be genetic providers—nothing more, nothing less.

"Let's go to Korea." 

I made the decision on a whim, realizing there wouldn't be much difference between living in the UK with my parents and living in Korea. If this 'jeong' that Koreans talked about actually existed, maybe things would be different there. Perhaps I subconsciously had that hope all along. 

˚˖✧✧✧˚. 

After the program ended.

Thanks to my appearance on 'Show Me the Gold', I decided to become an idol, where I could experience the ultimate form of competition. One of my idol trainee friends said that when it comes to intense competition, being an idol is the final boss. 

There was a recruitment drive for an idol survival program midway through, but realistically, since I had never formally learned to dance, I didn't apply. My philosophy is only to enter competitions I can win.

When I had been a trainee at Hanul Entertainment for almost two years, I met a new trainee named Ham Iwon. 

He gave off the impression of being a rare, precious flower grown in a greenhouse, pampered by a harmonious family. That was my first impression of Ham Iwon. 

The more we hung out, the more I found myself thinking about him. I didn't realize then how much of a concern a rare plant, defenseless against pests, could become when you had to keep it close.

Moreover, Ham Iwon was quirky, but gentle and pure, making him an interesting person to observe. He was unaware of his own exceptional abilities and talents, and his naive trust in others was almost endearing. 

'Maybe I'd say he grows on you?'

I found myself growing more fond of him over time. In the short period we spent together, I noticed how hard he was fighting to become an idol, putting everything on the line. 

Even if he wasn't exactly like me, he was still a goal-oriented person. A sense of camaraderie quickly formed. Not that it would have shown on the surface. 

Even when I felt a sense of inner closeness, I kept a certain distance and accepted people as they were. That was my way of being considerate. 

When the debut team was announced, I somehow ended up being invited to Ham Iwon's house. 

As expected, Ham Iwon was the only child in a wealthy family, cherished like a precious gem. It was so predictable, I almost laughed. 

But when I entered the house and met Ham Iwon's father, I felt like my brain had been struck by a massive hammer. 

I already knew my family wasn't "normal." But being confronted with the extreme opposite in such a stark way felt like rubbing salt in a wound. 

While Ham Iwon stepped away to wash his hands, his father looked us over with a warm smile. I didn't know a man in his 40s could smile so innocently. 

"My son must have really opened up to you. I thought he'd never invite friends over again. Thank you for coming." 

We didn't know how to respond, so the man gently asked, in a soft voice, 
"I hope you'll stay close to him, like friends... like family. I already think of you boys as sons."

While Chorok skillfully responded to the adult, I remained silent. Having always defined family as nothing more than a biological bond, the statement that he considered us like sons turned my world upside down. 

Maybe I'd been living too closed off. After all, family doesn't have to be defined by blood. 

'Wait, did I... want a family?'

If you have a close relationship where you can rely on each other, isn't that what family is? Even without the shell of blood ties.

I decided I would try to bring the members closer to me, so they could think of me as family. 

I knew it wouldn't be easy. I wasn't the friendly type, and I tended to be very self-centered. 

But I wasn't going to give up. If I achieved this goal, I knew it would make my life happier. 

That old, persistent competitive streak of mine was starting to rise again. 

˚˖✧✧✧˚. 

[Chorok]

Use whatever is at your disposal. As long as it's legal and doesn't inconvenience others. 

I've never told anyone, but that's my motto. 

The person who influenced this motto the most was my father.

My father was a national actor, widely respected by his juniors in the industry. To me, he was more of a textbook example of the importance of "image management."

Although he stumbled slightly and got into a scandal before I entered middle school. 

Even though he wasn't perfect, he'd successfully crafted his image, which was undeniable. It was true, after all, that he had cycled through countless lovers. 

But I didn't pity my mother, who was often called the epitome of the perfect housewife. My parents were a classic case of "birds of a feather."

They weren't a "show window" couple when they first got married, but over time, they became strategic partners in raising my sibling and me. 

It was fortunate that my sibling was oblivious to all of this. 

Despite any distrust I might have developed in romantic love between men and women, I grew up in a stable household. Both my parents showed plenty of love to us. 

"If you're good at acting, there's no better profession than being an actor." 

That was something my father often said, usually after a drink. And he was right.

When his scandal broke, my father was married, so the fallout was significant, and he took a brief hiatus. But for a film actor like my dad, it was just an ordinary break in his career. 

For some reason, the entertainment industry tends to be more lenient toward talented actors, even when they mess up. Singers or idols can fall from grace over baseless rumors, but it feels like top actors are in a sacred category of their own. 

Everyone rallied around him, saying there was no actor to replace Nam Kyung-wook. 

Looking back, I wonder if my father used to take me to film sets when I was young to show off his authority as an actor. 

But instead of being impressed by my father's status, I noticed the messy affairs and power struggles behind the scenes.

Having sharp intuition, I learned early on how to survive in the entertainment industry. That experience has proven useful since I decided to become an idol. 

'Connections are the key to survival in the entertainment industry.'

Luckily, thanks to my actor father, I was able to build solid connections in TV and film.

These connections would come in handy one day, for sure. 

When I entered an arts high school to pursue my dream of becoming an idol after falling in love with dance, my father wasn't too pleased. 

'Was he secretly hoping I'd follow in his footsteps as an actor?'

Given his pride in being an actor, it wouldn't have been surprising. But I didn't want to be known as "Nam Kyung-wook's son." While I wanted to dedicate my life to dancing over acting, I couldn't deny that my father's influence had made me develop a distaste for acting.

I had no intention of cutting ties with my father, but I wanted a "comfortable distance" between us, especially in public. 

'To be honest, maybe I just want to suck the benefits out of him.'

Am I being a bit selfish? Probably. But my father was the person who most deeply influenced my philosophy to use every available resource. 

"What else could I have learned?" 

I chuckled, but I didn't hate myself for thinking this way. As long as I wasn't breaking any laws or hurting anyone, this seemed like a fitting way to navigate modern life. It was better than being taken advantage of.

One of my childhood friends, who had known about my dream of becoming an idol since elementary school, once said, 

"An idol? Good choice. If you'd said you wanted to be a politician, I would've packed you a lunch and done everything to stop you." 

I had no interest in politics, but my childhood friend's dramatic response was amusing. 

When I asked why it was such a terrible idea, the answer was astonishing. 

"If you became a politician, you'd end up as the puppet master behind the scenes. You already seem like you're pulling the strings from the shadows..."

I couldn't deny it. My childhood friend, who'd known me for so long, was truly on point. 

With my friend's "support," I continued my trainee life. Then, one day, a younger student came to visit me. He said we were now trainees in the same company. 

Ham Iwon was a well-known figure who had made quite a splash at our school's entrance ceremony with his looks alone. It was impossible not to know who he was. 

His rumored inability to speak seemed to have stirred up a protective instinct in the girls, which only heightened his mysterious allure. Even the third-year students, who were busy preparing for college entrance exams, were buzzing about him. Not knowing who Ham Iwon was made you look like a fool.

"Ham Iwon? Isn't he that 'Merman Prince'? And he can talk now?" 

The rumor that had become a widely accepted "fact"—that he'd lost his voice—turned out to be false. I composed myself and put on my usual public smile. 

"You're surprised, huh? Sorry. You're famous, you know. The 'Merman Prince.'" 

"Merman... Prince?" 

How could he not know about the rumors circulating for the past year? The confusion on his face was obvious, and I had to stifle my laughter. It was endearing to see someone known as a "voluntary loner" come to a third-year classroom himself. 

We went to the same school, belonged to the same agency, and might even debut in the same group. 

Judging by Ham Iwon's idol-worthy looks and the genius-level musical talent I'd heard about, getting closer to him could only be an advantage. 

"...You can call me hyung. Let's get along, Iwon."