I took one week just to observe the group dynamic, watching the teenagers as they interacted with each other as well as figuring out their strengths and weaknesses. Armed with an Ipad, I took short video clips and made notes as I sat through their idol training sessions. The experience was akin to going back in time for me. The classes were still punishing – testing the patience, mindset and endurance of the trainee. And the trainers? Well, they seemed to have grown impossibly meaner than they already were in my time. Ironically, I was now one of them.

The band members, with the exception of MJ who had already graduated from high school, kept to a very grueling schedule. After school let out, they would all rush back into the trainee center, often with no time for a quick dinner, to start vocal exercises. Two hours later, I would lead them into stretches and warm-ups before I got them through the choreography that they had to learn. That went on until late and then they trudged back into their dormitories exhausted but still needing to get through their homework before they could sleep.

Their weekends were spent doing strength and cardio work-outs in the gym in the mornings. They had a modeling coach to correct posture, nervous ticks and unattractive walking habits. Before dinner, they had speech training where provincial accents were dealt with by a speech expert who made them read through long selections over and over again until tone and stress were considered Seoul-standard. In this training course, they also practiced going through interviews where they had to anticipate embarrassing questions and requests and then reply to them in that vague, poised manner most journalists have come to expect from rookies. Dongmin had the extra burden of going to an acting coach as Fantagio has plans of getting him into minor drama roles in the future

Each day as a trainee bled into the next with mental and physical exhaustion being their constant companions. They were denied any sympathy because this was something they supposedly wanted.

As a teacher, I felt sorry for them. They were already taking too much on their young shoulders. The urge to ease up during their time with me was strong, but I also knew that it was going to be counter-productive. They had project schedules already lined up until next year, culminating in the group’s debut stage early in 2016. The nearer the debut, the tougher things were going to be.

“Okay, guys. Once more from the top please.” I walked back to the console, cuing the music to where they last messed up. “And Myung Jun, could you please try not to flail too much?”

“I- “ MJ croaked indignant at being single out for criticism. “I wasn’t flailing. That was the choreography!”

Sanha was rubbing at his mouth, upper lip smarting. “You should be more careful, hyung.” MJ, in his characteristic exuberance, managed to whip his hand up and accidentally smack the youngest member in the face.

“If you had actually kept the right timing, you wouldn’t even be in the same space where my hand was. You. Don’t. Pay. Attention.” Myung Jun retorted angrily, jabbing Sanha on the chest.

Upset that he was poked at instead of getting an apology for his pains, the youngest struck back with unusual vehemence nearly upending Myung Jun on his feet. The three remaining members and I sprang into action before the two could come to actual blows. Dongmin stepped in between them, shielding the eldest from Sanha’s whirling limbs by pressing against him from the front while Jinjin held on to maknae from the back.  Rocky clasped Myung Jun to his chest forcefully dragging him several feet away.

“Stop it. Sanha-ya!” Jinjin was yelling, face bloated from the effort of keeping the youngest at bay. He was still kicking and clawing over Dongmin’s shoulder trying to scratch at Myung Jun’s face. I swiped at his hands at the same time pushing MJ farther away.

“Hyung, geez!” Rocky muttered into Myung Jun’s ear. “Calm down.” His arms were entangled over the oldest member’s chest.

“I am not letting than sorry excuse for a bamboo pole treat me like a punching bag!” MJ shrieked, kicking up a storm. One of his legs caught me on the right shin. I was pretty sure it would bruise something terrible the next day.

“Hyung. Sanha. Stop, please. This isn’t helping us any. We -” Dongmin pleaded with them, first turning to the youngest and then to MJ. He whipped around to look into Sanha’s face again just as the maknae had his head out, butting Dongmin on the chin. “Aww!”

At his pained cry, I yelled in my most authoritative voice, “Boys. Stop! STOP!”

Weeks of insufficient food and sleep; constant nitpicking of coaches and trainers; mind-numbing choreography repetition;  memorization of lines and song parts that constantly changed until the vocal teachers were satisfied; the inability to think for themselves as well as to want simple things had thinned their patience reserves to the breaking point and it exploded with the smallest provocation.  The group camaraderie was beginning to fracture at its carefully cultivated seams.

“Moon Seonsaeng-nim?”

I turned around, clutching at the back of my leg, just in time to see the CEO’s assistant enter the practice room. His eyes went from me, then to boys that were no longer fighting but breathing heavily behind me; obviously taking in our rumpled clothes and disgruntled expressions.

“Is there a problem?” He asked. One of his eyebrows rose as he glanced pointedly at the teenagers.

I schooled my face into what I hoped was a believable smile. “Ah, nothing. Just team-building exercises. Right, kids?”

“Nae.” They managed to squeak.

He appeared skeptical but didn’t push it. “Is that so? Anyway, the CEO would like to see you in his office as soon as possible.”

I scratched at the back of my head. This was just great. Barely ten days into my job and it seems I may have to look for another one soon.