[Interview]
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Q: Was there a specific reason you chose UU Entertainment over MOK?
H: To be honest, I really like MOK. Their system is solid, and the producers are skilled. But I didn’t like the singer.
Q: The singer?
H: Yes. I was thrilled when MOK said they wanted my song, but once I found out it would go to Low Five, I changed my mind.
Q: You mean the singer and the song don’t match?
H: No. To be exact, I don’t like Low Five’s leader, AT. I feel bad for the other hardworking members, but that’s the truth.
Q: That’s a bit shocking—you’re being very blunt.
H: As a composer, I have no reason to like a singer who can’t sing.
Q: But didn’t you write your song over AT’s track?
H: I saw that claim too, but that’s just AT’s one-sided story. Can anyone really claim ownership of a basic drum & bass loop that could’ve existed in the ’60s?
Q: So you’re saying it wasn’t written over AT’s track?
H: Correct. And just to avoid any possible controversy, I’ve already revised the loop for the official release.
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As expected, AT was furious when he read the interview. He shouted, threw a fit, and tore the place apart.
HSH, now hailed as a genius composer after receiving love calls from Drake and Jang Sang-won, had clearly taken a shot at him.
What made it worse was that HSH had definitely worked in linked sessions with AT but was now denying it.
Opinions about the HSH interview within MOK were divided.
Those trying to stay in the good graces of the A&R team or CEO Kim Dong-han criticized HSH as shameless. On the other hand, employees who had grown tired of AT’s past behaviour found the whole thing rather satisfying.
The interview quickly became a hot topic among netizens.
└ Typical rookie composer guts. Dang.
└ Who even is AT?
└ MOK has some unknown idol.
└ Anyone got a link to AT’s performance?
└ Sure, here’s some antidepressant: http://bit.ly/2kMLA9g
└ Just followed the link—what a disaster lol
└ But idols all lip-sync anyway, don’t they?
└ That’s why we’ve prepped a version with the music removed. Enjoy at your leisure.
└ If he’s a singer, I guess I can be one too.
└ How did this guy become a singer anyway?
└ Probably because AT is MOK CEO Kim Dong-han’s son.
└ Ah, really? No wonder the other members are just collateral damage, like HSH said.
Netizens were naturally drawn to the interview because it was unheard of for a composer to publicly criticize a singer like this. In the Korean entertainment industry, this was extremely rare.
Of course, the interview wasn’t entirely Seon-ho’s own move.
It had been coordinated with Director Yoo Ayeon.
To be precise, it was part of a plan to reignite the buzz around HSH, whose name had started fading from headlines.
And while he was at it, Seon-ho slipped in a bit of revenge against AT on Hye-mi’s behalf.
A few days later, the real firewood was thrown in.
- Rookie girl group “Sparkle” sets out to win hearts with a song by HSH!
- Top vocalist Jang Sang-won: “Very excited to collaborate with composer HSH.”
- Drake hints at single release via SNS. His upcoming track samples a song by HSH, styled in retro hip-hop.
- Three singers. One song. Who will emerge the ultimate winner of this unique arrangement?
- Music critic Bae Joongheon: “HSH’s song contains numerous musical sources. We’ll likely see even more versions.”
UU Entertainment proved itself to be a dominant force in Korea’s showbiz industry.
To boost its rookie girl group, it brought in Drake and Jang Sang-won and launched a nonstop media campaign.
As soon as it was revealed that three versions of the same HSH-composed song would be released, public interest surged.
Fans of Jang Sang-won and Drake dismissed Sparkle, saying the rookie group couldn’t compare, but the more they ignored Sparkle, the more the group’s name spread among the public.
Within UU Entertainment, Director Yoo Ayeon was widely praised for scouting HSH.
And the company developed a strong impression of HSH as well.
Even as a major agency, UU couldn’t force top-tier artists like Jang Sang-won and Drake—who belonged to different labels—to perform songs.
The fact that Jang Sang-won and Drake agreed to work with HSH meant they were genuinely interested in his song, and both parties had come to mutually beneficial agreements.
HSH, Drake, Jang Sang-won, and Sparkle.
These were the most searched names on Korean portals over the past two weeks.
However, while these names saw explosive short-term spikes, there was one keyword that had been searched steadily over a longer period.
That was the much-anticipated Idol War.
Idol War had begun teasing its premiere through trailers on KBM, and viewer interest had been growing ever since.
Today, that interest reached its peak.
Because today was the first broadcast of Idol War.
Despite the late hour approaching 11 p.m., the MOK building was buzzing with people.
They were all gathered in front of the massive TV in the PR department, enjoying late-night snacks.
They were there to monitor the premiere of Idol War together.
“Director, didn’t you say Personal Color was the final performance?”
“Yes, the very last one.”
“Then we won’t see their performance tonight, right? I heard the first round spans two episodes.”
At Team Leader Park Cha-myung’s question, Director Kwon Hosan shook his head.
“That was the initial plan, but the PD changed it.”
“Changed it?”
“Yes. Now the first round is just one episode, and the second round is two. They thought dragging out the first match—which has no eliminations—would hurt the tension.”
“Hm, makes sense. So we’ll get to see Personal Color’s stage tonight?”
“That’s right.”
“Let’s hope things go well this time.”
Hearing Park Cha-myung and Director Kwon’s conversation, PR team members started chiming in.
“All the ad slots are sold out, right?”
“They are, but lots of them are one-time deals. The advertisers are testing the waters.”
“So basically, we have Chicken Race’s viewers to thank for that.”
“Yeah, if we’re being honest.”
A staff member from a different artist team joined in.
“What were the ratings for the final episode of Chicken Race?”
“Four percent. Maybe 3.5 in the metro area?”
“That’s quite a drop.”
“Well, there was controversy—couldn’t be helped.”
For weekday variety shows, four percent wasn’t bad. But Wednesday Variety was a different story.
It was the golden day for weekday shows, with top programs grabbing anywhere from 9 to 11 percent.
Around 11:10 p.m., as the weeknight drama ended and commercials rolled, the snacks were nearly gone.
A PR staff member watching the ads commented, “Good thing there are no B-tier ads. They’re all premium. Looks like advertisers liked what they saw.”
“Thanks to Chicken Race. But again, most are one-shots.”
As actors’ teams looked smugly at the PR staff, Seon-ho checked his vibrating phone.
- Oppa! I just posted the promo on SNS.
- Ah right, it’s today. I’ll post too.
- I beat Hye-mi unnie to it!
The chatroom of the “Han Seon-ho squad”: Hye-mi, Hanbit, and Su-rim.
Seon-ho, on a roll, went to check Hye-mi’s SNS.
@HyeMi.Cha
Today is the first broadcast of Idol War, featuring some of my absolute favorite senior artists from Personal Color!
And the song , which will be revealed through today’s Personal Color performance, was made by my favourite and deeply respected composer, Prefer!
Everyone, please send your support too!
Wishing Idol War massive success!
Go Personal Color!
Go Prefer!
At the feeling that Hye-mi’s voice was practically auto-playing in his head, Seon-ho let out a faint smile.
Just then, Team Leader Park Cha-myung gave Seon-ho a light pat on the shoulder.
“You’re not even nervous?”
“Of course I am.”
“Then why are you smirking at your phone?”
“I was reading a post Hye-mi made on social media.”
“Oh yeah? Let me see too.”
After reading Hye-mi’s post, Park Cha-myung let out a whistle of admiration.
“She really is loyal, that Hye-mi.”
“Hye-mi’s always been kind.”
“You’ve got some luck, man. What kind of singer posts this kind of thing for a competitor airing at the same time?”
Just as Seon-ho was about to respond, someone shouted, “It’s starting!”
Everyone who had been nibbling on late-night snacks or glued to their phones turned their eyes to the big TV screen.
And just like that, the first episode of Idol War began.
Starting with captions and team profile photos, Idol War opened with a textbook introduction.
Scenes of the singers sweating it out in practice.
Interviews capturing each team’s aspirations.
The teams’ first meeting before clashing in seven fierce rounds.
These clips, inserted in between segments, quickly led into the mission to determine the performance order.
“It’s off to a pretty standard start.”
“That’s a good thing with this kind of program.”
“Yeah. If a survival show goes too hard before you even pick a favourite, it’s hard to get immersed.”
“But isn’t it too standard?”
Early reactions from the MOK staff mostly centered on the show being conventional.
But that impression changed in an instant.
The moment the rapid scene-switching began.
Mission progress.
Idol members candid shots.
Practice footage.
Interview segments.
Even break-time clips.
Various scenes started switching in rapid-fire edits, one after another.
This kind of format was risky—it could easily feel chaotic and lose viewers’ focus.
But PD Nam Yunsoo showed his full capabilities.
He not only highlighted each singer’s charm but also accelerated the pace right where viewer attention might dip.
And it worked—remarkably well.
“Whoa, the online reaction’s insane. People are saying it’s cliche but they still can’t look away.”
“The comment rate’s off the charts!”
Hearing this from a PR team member monitoring the viewer board, Kwon Hosan and Jung Jiwoon lit up with excitement.
But their expressions turned grim in the blink of an eye.
“…Huh?”
“That part… could be trouble.”
In the waiting room, the Personal Color members were shown sitting awkwardly apart.
When Baek Songyi wanted water, instead of asking An Jia next to her, she walked around her to grab a bottle from the case.
The camera subtly began to highlight the Personal Color team’s uncomfortable atmosphere.
And the captions didn’t help.
—A tense mood fills Personal Color’s waiting room.
Then came the anonymous survey results, displayed as captions.
The survey asked about other teams appeal and casting reasons. Someone, shielded by anonymity, had answered like this:
—An Jia / Drama casting.
“Wow, that’s seriously low.”
“That’s harsh!”
Despite the indignation of the staff rooting for Personal Color, the team’s awkward moments continued to be broadcast.
Kwon Hosan’s face turned visibly dark as he watched.
“Damn it.”
And his anger was justified.
Sure, Personal Color had indeed behaved like that. It wasn’t an “evil edit.”
But if PD Nam Yunsoo had seen their stage and the post-performance interview, there was no way he could miss their sincerity.
Those actions weren’t schemed—they were just habitual behaviour.
The members had come to understand each other’s true feelings during Vivid’s rehearsals, but with no chance to break the ice yet, their old habits still showed.
In fact, they’d even talked about it in the post-stage interview footage.
Hearing Kwon Hosan’s low muttering, Team Leader Kang San tried to comfort him.
“Sir, the episode isn’t over yet. Let’s wait. There’s gotta be a twist coming.”
Still, Kang San looked oddly amused.
He even turned to Seon-ho and spoke.
“Word is you took charge of prepping this performance. Must’ve been a lot of work… Just hang in there.”
“Thank you,” Seon-ho replied calmly, though he didn’t feel calm inside.
He hadn’t given up hope entirely, but Nam Yunsoo’s intentions were definitely beginning to seem questionable.
The show continued, and just before midnight, the first performance for the “Team Introduction Mission” began.
The opening act was Soul Mate.
But Seon-ho, filled with anxiety, barely registered their performance.
The show would end at 12:30.
Only 30 minutes left—was a twist even possible?
While he wondered, Soul Mate’s performance ended, and Black Label took the stage.
That’s when Seon-ho noticed something different about Idol War compared to other survival shows.
Most survival programs focused more on the audience’s reactions than the performances themselves.
Especially for idol survival shows.
Given how idol songs don’t easily create emotional impact in a short time, the shows typically leaned heavily on reaction shots for viewer engagement.
But Idol War didn’t follow that formula.
PD Nam Yunsoo showed the idols unfiltered.
He minimized stage-slicing edits, showed mistakes as they were, and let the good parts shine as they were.
There were reaction shots, but for a five-minute performance, about three minutes were fully focused on the stage itself.
And maybe that’s why… some performances were downright painful to watch.
Dream Girls, the sixth team, kept messing up choreography and going off-key.
“Oof…”
“Still, it’s kind of lucky. Since Personal Color’s going after Dream Girls, even an average stage will look good.”
“Right? The order works in their favor.”
“They’d better have nailed it.”
At that moment, Personal Color took the stage for the final performance of the night.
It was the moment Vivid would be revealed to the world.
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