“Three Six Five?”

It was very hard not to grin in satisfaction, but Minjae made sure to remain composed and keep a straight face. Glancing around the elliptical gray table of the rather simplistic-looking conference room (Yuri had always liked neutral tones and modern designs) she realized she sure enjoyed the bewildered her group mates sported.

So she was the only one that knew. It made her feel pretty special. Nice.

“You’re telling me we’re named after Shiha’s unit?” Yoonji said slowly. “We’re named after a song?”

Cheolmin didn’t seem the slightest bit of worried about Yoonji’s lack of enthusiasm. “The song was written as a way to introduce you to the entertainment scene, so if anything the song is named after you.”

“But that’s not what people are going to think.” Chaerin pointed out. “I mean… won’t they think that because the song is popular EM kind of rode on the wave of it for us?”

“Exactly.” Yoonji nodded. “Does it even have a meaning?”

“Three minutes to fall in love with the six skills you five have to offer. And they will want to listen to you all year round.” Cheolmin supplied, fingers entwined into a hard knot. Someone was not in the mood.

Minjae faked surprise. “What skills?”

“Supposedly, you boast vocals, rapping, dancing, charisma, visuals, and variety skills.”

Supposedly. Their manager was very confident in their skills, she noted dully. Not that he was wrong, of course. It was kind of cocky to claim they were so good at everything - sure, Yoonji had pipes that could probably compete with Hyorin and Taeyeon, Chaerin was a hell of a dancer, and she herself had the visuals covered, but it was far from the perfect picture of the perfect group Yuri had going on. Was it the CEO that chose the name, or was it the board? It had the same stupid vibe most Kpop names had, but was it deliberate or accidental? Minjae couldn’t tell.

“Welp, that’s going to leave people disappointed.” Yoonji said, folding her arms on her chest. “Can Shiha even rap?”

He took a moment to reply. “Shiha… Shiha is not here because of her rapping skills.”

Shiha was here because she was already popular. Shiha was here because she was pretty and charismatic. Shiha was here because she didn’t get a better offer. Minjae had seen some of her previous work (she was curious, and it was late at night. And hey, if she couldn’t satisfy her late night cravings, at least she could satisfy her curiosity), and yeah… Shiha was most definitely not here because of her rap.

Yoonji seemed about as satisfied with Cheolmin’s answer as Minjae was. “Where is she, again? Shouldn’t she be here?”

“Anthem are holding their debut stage today.” He explained. “You should post a message on Instagram congratulating the sub-unit debut.”

Oh. Oh she could do that.

The company was really going to regret giving them an Instagram account. It was a smart marketing choice - international fandoms helped a lot of flopping groups to stay afloat, so it was a nice safe net that required little to no cost. Just post stuff on Instagram for the entire world to see, upload some videos on Youtube, be funny and do something ship and fangirl worthy. It worked for groups like BTS and MBX, and as a girl group with no crazy fangirls, they needed all the help they could get. But she knew that unless carefully monitored, they weren’t going to be the perfect girl group, and post aesthetical photos and inspirational quotes. They had Chaerin, for god’s sake, and it’s not like Minjae herself was a saint either.

They were going to love them, Minjae knew it. It wasn’t really arrogance, rather than a straight up fact - the international fandom loved their groups that sang about meaning and challenged boundaries. It worked fantastically well for groups like BAP and BTS, and as a girl group they were going to stand out even more. Of course, their songs were going to be much more delicate than those of boy groups (why hello there Korean double standards and ism, you look fine today) - they still needed to succeed in Korea, after all. But everyone loves hidden meanings, and they would most certainly look for them wherever they could. According to Yuri, there was going to be plenty of those.

Minjae kind of liked it, she had to admit. It had this sort of playful cockiness she approved of. It was like they were a secret club, and only the worthy would be able to decipher the true meaning behind their words. If that wasn’t ing cool, she didn’t know what was. She couldn’t believe she was scared of being stuck in a wannabe version of Apink.

Thank god for Lee ing Yuri and her crazy liberal reforms. How that woman was born and raised in Korea and managed to grow up like that, Minjae had no ing idea.

Meanwhile, Cheolmin went on to explain more about their concept (nothing concrete, but leaning towards mature and y, with hidden depths and playfulness) and positions. Minjae knew all of that already from Yuri, but watching their manager’s input for each and every detail was rather entertaining. He was apparently not pleased about Shiha’s position as the main rapper, and something about the way he addressed Chaerin was off. For an icicle he was very emotional, no matter how much he thought he could conceal his feelings behind his resting face. What an amateur. Perhaps she should give him some pointers.

By the end of his speech, he went over their contracts with them (the contracts they had already signed, and had no way of changing their content, of course), and reminded them that the next five years will be one hell of a roller coaster.

She gave him points for the attempt, but otherwise awarded him a 6/10. His performance lacked any charisma or dramatics, but she did see passion in his eyes. The desire to spook the living crap out of them and maintain his image as a living rock battled in him as each word left his lips.

“Are there any questions?” He asked at last.

“There won’t be… We won’t be doing anything indecent, right?” Sowon asked. Poor soul, Minjae thought. Religion was such a bummer.

“That’s not up to me. I’m not the one that decides your concepts, you’ll know that only when you start preparing for a release.”

Yoonji looked like she wanted to say something, but regretted it at the last second. Their leader (Minjae tried her best not to roll her eyes) glanced towards Chaerin, who… huh. Something with Chaerin was wrong.

At a closer inspection, it became clear as day, and Minjae mentally scolded herself for taking so long to notice that the older girl was in obvious distress. She was usually so talkative and bubbly, but throughout the meeting had barely said anything. It seemed like she barely paid any attention to what was going on, mind deep in thought and eyes glistening in what could only be a combination of confusion and fear.

Minjae had to know what was going on. She had no idea what that could be about, but it meant trouble for the group. Everyone should be focused solely on their debut, it was the only way to ensure they’d be perfect. First impressions were of utmost importance, after all, and Minjae was not going to tolerate someone ing it up for all of them because their head was not in the game (she took a moment to giggle, imagining the five of them singing in basketball uniforms. That would’ve been a sight to see). Whatever it was that Chaerin was going through, she couldn’t allow it to affect her career.

Minjae took a mental note to corner the older girl and question her thoroughly. If she wasn’t going to deal with it by herself, Minjae was going to do it for her. Of course, that was supposed to be the job of a leader, but their so-called leader looked not in the least bit concerned that her best friend was going through a silent mental breakdown on the couch.The cd Cheolmin was holding appeared to be much more important… Oh.

“Is that…”

“Sowon, can you go retrieve the laptop?” Cheolmin asked. “This is your debut album. Or, more specifically, a demo version of the two songs you’re going to perform. The songs are called Red Light, and Whatcha Doin Today, respectfully.”

That at least made Chaerin perk up a bit. Yoonji, on the other hand, eyed the cd like it would catch on fire any second now.

Minjae regarded it with scientific curiosity. After Yuri’s little speech, expectations were high, and she wondered if the songs would live up to them. That small disc carried great responsibility.

A beat filled the conference room, and with it a voice.

“Is that… Yikwang!?” She choked out, momentarily losing her composed expression. Only Yikwang could do that to her, even when he wasn’t in the room, apparently. She did not expect to hear him, of all people.

“Jonggyu and Yikwang recorded the vocal guide for you.” Cheolmin explained, leg subconsciously tapping to the rhythm of the song. The song reached its chorus, and Jonggyu’s melodic voice echoed through the room. It made her heart flutter, the way any beautiful voice did. Moments like these made her wish she had a voice like that.

She had to work on her vocals more.

“Can I have the lyrics please?” Yoonji asked when the song ended, a curious expression on her face. When Cheolmin had handed all of them a sheet of papers with the lyrics, the older girl gave them a quick glance over. “Those are very impressive. And very, very risky. I approve.”

“The composition is very interesting, the instrumental choices in particular. It’s very atmospheric.” Minjae added.

“Who are we going to war with exactly?” Yoonji asked, eyes back on the sheet.

Cheolmin skillfully ignored Yoonji’s question, clicking on the button and starting up the next song. The lack of response from Sowon and Chaerin went unnoticed by him, it seemed.

Their second track was much more lively, and it was painfully obvious which one of them was targeted as their “main” main track. Catchy and explosive, filled with phrases to emphasize that it was their song, their debut, and they were 365. Red Light was meant to give everyone a message of what their purpose was in the industry - they were here to start a revolution, and they were not going to get eaten like the rest of them. Whatcha Doin Today was meant to unite them with anyone who was listening, tell them that everything’s okay, and make them dance and feel good. Her big bro would like that one. She could just imagine Jaeli trying (and failing) to shake his to the rhythm, screaming the lyrics on the top of his lungs.

And what lyrics they were, too. Even the “shallow” song was not as shallow as it seemed.

It wasn’t obvious at first glance. The song was catchy and nice, and the rhythm made it easy to ignore the meaning, focusing on the melody and not delving deeper. It took Minjae a while to realize it herself, and she was looking for hidden depths. When she was looking for it, it was almost painfully easy to see how the lyrics criticised the workaholic culture of Korea, how it mocked people for choosing comfort and routine over adventure and freedom, and how it encouraged people to have fun, to find the best even in the smallest of details of life. She could even detect a reference to the awfully high suicide rates of this country, all masked behind catchy music and fun words. They were here to make life fun again, to give you hope, no matter who you are.

Brilliant. Bloody brilliant.

“Who wrote this song?” She asked, clasping her hands around her knee. She had to applaud them.

“Composition was done by Escape - it’s the same record label that produced MBX’s War of Hormone and 365 Fresh. Lyrics were written by one of our lyricists Jo Jeongha, with some contribution by MBX’s Namhoon.”

Jo Jeongha. Minjae needed to find him and tell him how brilliant that was.

“I couldn’t help but notice that there aren’t a lot of technically difficult vocal parts.” Yoonji commented.

“It’s just the vocal guide, it’s not a finalized version.” Cheolmin said, taking the cd out of the laptop and putting it back into an envelope. “It was recorded in less than an hour, to give you a vague example of how it’s supposed to sound. You’re going to record it in two weeks, and you’re going to start learning the choreography tomorrow. As you know, your debut is scheduled for March, which gives us about 3 months. I expect you to work twice as hard now that you are in the project group.”

Was she imagining things, or did Chaerin gulp?

God, the dynamics of the group were properly ed up. Yet another thing she had to work on - it wasn’t like their leader was going to take on the job.

A list was quickly formulating inside of her mind:

It was a solid list. A good plan of action for the following three months. There was plenty of time to achieve all of that. They were all worries for another day, though. The plan could wait a bit.

Minjae smirked to herself, hand reaching out.

First, she had an Instagram post to upload.

It was going to be a great day, Jaegyu knew.

Well, a lot of days were great days, but each and every one of them was great in its own unique way! Yesterday was great because a new customer came to the restaurant for the first time an told her he really enjoyed their ramyun. The day before was great because she got a new music box from Yang ahjussi. Today? She didn’t know how it was going to be great, but it sure was going to be one great day.

It started off great - fresh snow had fallen, and it was super white and pretty! When she took a picture of the snowy street, it came out really great as well. Snow started falling again by the time she was almost at the shop, and the next picture she took turned out even prettier!

Her mom greeted her with a warm bowl of ramyun, and that was a great start to a great shift as well. Nyam Nyam wasn’t bustling with activity, but she didn’t want people getting out of their houses on this cold day. She’d rather make her way to them instead - she wasn’t  really affected by the cold with her five layers of clothing, and the view was so pretty she was glad to be able to see it for a bit longer.

There weren’t a lot of deliveries ordered, either. So Jaegyu swept the place twice, adjusted the Christmas decorations still hanging around (because as long as the was snow the holiday cheer continued), and worked on a new design for the pinwheels flyers (one that was more durable and spun longer in the wind). By the time the phone rang she was already taking out her laptop to check out what new fonts she could download to her ever-growing collection.

The phone ringing was both a blessing and a curse. She was just getting into the wonderful depths of the internet.

“Honey, there’s a delivery to that music company again!”

Definitely more a blessing than a curse. The depths could wait. Yuri-unnie was waiting.

By the time the order was ready, Jaegyu had already packed a few free portions of pickled radish and kimchi, and made a new flyer origami (this time in the shape of a snowflake, fitting the theme of snow. Aesthetics had to match). Her mom ended her over the paper bag with the Nyam Nyam design she had created years ago, and with a hop on her bicycle, Jaegyu was on a mission.

She navigated the streets of Cheongdam with ease, turning left and right like she had done numerous times before. The roads were smooth, but Jaegyu was smoother. Exactly eleven minutes later, she was already parking outside of the EM Entertainment building, taking off her helmet with extra dramatics today. She was feeling a bit like a badass owning those slippery roads, and it was a great day. She deserved to do something fun!

The receptionist greeted her with her usual smile, and Jaegyu didn’t forget to take one of the radish portions and give it to her. She snuck another one to Kim Kyuhyun (training really wasn’t doing any favors to his frame, so Jaegyu kept feeding him every time she came by. It helped little with the weight loss, but at least Kyuhyun seemed a bit happier), and left one in dancing room for Kiyong-oppa because he really, really loved their kimchi.

By the time she reached the third story, she was starting to worry that the delivery would get a few degrees below what was perfectly warm and homey. She rushed towards the oak doors of Yuri-unnie’s office, and knocked. Nobody answered.

“This is one big ing mess.”

“What did she say to you?”

Uh oh. She probably wasn’t supposed to listen to this conversation. Jaegyu knocked again.

“That it was not what she signed for, to put it lightly. I think the direct quote was ‘I am not going to disrespect the lord by wearing indecent clothes and doing activities my pastor wouldn’t be proud of’. And yes, I rolled my eyes immediately after she said it. Couldn’t help myself. I’m not going to have someone like that in the group, she’d be way more trouble than she’s worth. So I dissolved her contract and sent her on her merry way. To be honest, I was always kind of meh about her being there.”

That one was Yuri-unnie’s voice, so she was definitely there. Maybe she couldn’t hear her knocks? Jaegyu started knocking harder.

“And now we’re one member short.” A male voice replied. “Do we keep them as four, or do we add another member? Both have pros and cons, and I honestly don’t know which one would be harder.”

“Keeping them as four would certainly be easier training-wise, but the more members we have, the more opportunities they will have to succeed. The recruitment department had already contacted a few possible recruits. I have an eye on two potentials - you probably know one of them. She went viral on a music show recently.”

Jaegyu started performing CPR on the door.

“Wait, you don’t mean - oh, wait a minute. I think someone’s knocking.”

At last, the cursed door had opened, and before her stood a man in his forties that she recognized as Park Cheolmin. She beamed at him. “Good morning, Cheolmin-oppa! How are you today?”

The man grumbled something in response (Jaegyu liked to think he said “I’m fine, thank you! How are you?”), before opening the door wider and letting her in.

Her first response was, “Woah, unnie, what happened to you!?”

Yuri was… she looked very, very tired. Still smiling kindly at her, she looked like she was in a dire need of a homey, warm portion of the Nyam Nyam ramyun special. “I’m sorry it took so long to deliver, Yuri-unnie!”

“It’s okay, Jaegyu. And I’m okay, don’t worry. There have been slight complications in my project… You don’t happen to know how to sing and dance, do you?”

Jaegyu burst out laughing. “Y-You really wouldn’t want to see me dance, unnie. Trust me. And I really wouldn’t want to be a part of your girl group, sorry unnie. I like my ramyun too much… Sorry, I overheard. You didn’t answer the door and you can kinda hear everything from outside.”

Yuri raised a brow. “Oh, can you? I’ll have to fix that. Thank you for telling me, Jaegyu.”

“No problem!” Jaegyu grinned in return. “Anyway, here’s your order, unnie! Nyam Nyam Ramyun special with extra beef, and free pickled radish and kimchi on the side!”

“You know me so well.” Yuri-unnie smiled in return, groaning when the delicious smell of ramyun hit her nose. Jaegyu smirked. Victory was Nyam Nyam’s yet again. “Oh, it’s a new origami! How do you have time to make these every time?”

“Well, the kid gang does most of the work for me, so I can focus on special customers like you.”

The older woman stopped mid through opening the paper bag. “Kid gang?”

“Uh, yeah.” How was she supposed to explain the kid gang!? “It’s a group of kids that I organized to do origami for me so that I could focus on designing the flyers and delivering the food.”

“You organized a gr