Idol - Chapter 2
One dreary night in Seoul, amid the flashy lights of Tehran-ro and the harried traffic transporting their equally harried drivers along the Olympic Highway, a lone, blacked-out van exited from the main avenue on Yeoui-do and made its way down a network of side streets, through valleys made by towering skyscrapers and patches of light and darkness, gradually moving farther away from the hustle and bustle of the business district, until it finally halted outside a run-down building characterized by its cast-iron lattices over its windows and the trash bags lumped outside.
The passenger door slid open and a lone man stepped outside, his breath fanning in the chilly night air. He wrapped his worn parka around himself and waved farewell to the driver, who promptly closed the door and peeled out, its winking taillights disappearing around the corner.
The sound the engine quietly faded away.
The man stood there for a second or two, looking up at the roof of the building - where a flashing, green-lit neon sign proclaimed, “Home of Radio KSSN - Global Change Starts Here”.
As the man watched, one of the lights started to fizzle and promptly blinked out, and the sign now proclaimed, “Glob hange Starts Here”.
A black cat meowed it way across the street as the man finally creaked open the rusty steel door set into the off-white brick walls and entered the building.
The door clanged shut behind him with an air of finality. The shriek of metal of metal echoed its way down the lonely, deserted street.
---
The inside of the building was slightly better-kept than the exterior. It had maintained an air of well-worn dignity, although it was the kind of dignity that was associated with plastic shrubs and scented wall plugs. The leather on the lounge chairs that littered the anteroom was cracked in several places, the plastic shrubs were drooping, and the mahogany wraparound front desk bore several ink stains. The carpet was fading. The whole room had the air of a bland office that someone in the 1980’s had tried to improve with a very low budget. It didn’t look like the room had been touched since.
The one distinct feature of the room was an “ON AIR” sign that was placed above a nondescript grey metal door in one corner, opposite the front desk. It was currently turned off.
The man took off his army-green parka and hung it up on the rack, and his features came into focus. He looked to be about middle-age, with dyed brown hair that was shaped into a bowl cut. When he smiled, he had extensive dimples. He had a sharp nose, but not too much so, and it was angled slightly downwards as it extended. His chin was set somewhat outwards and he hadn’t shaved in a few days.
He paused as he walked towards the “ON AIR” door and perused the coffee table book that had been placed on the cabinet in the waiting room. It was a history of early 21st century popular music. He read through a couple of the pages, smirked, and set it down again. He jumped as someone called his name from behind.
“Leeteuk.” A low, gravelly voice spoke from the direction of the “ON AIR” door. “You’re late.”
The man known as Leeteuk turned around and smiled, his dimples surfacing again. “Sorry, Jung PD. The roads were packed.”
Jung PD had grey hair that was going bald in the back. It was curly in a very dirty way, and he possessed very droopy cheeks that might’ve reminded anyone of a very tenacious pug, or a Great Dane. His beer belly spilled over his low-slung jeans and there were ketchup stains on his monocoloured shirt. But when he smiled, no one could doubt that this was a genuinely good person.
He smiled now, and Leeteuk knew that he had been forgiven. “Ah, yeah…the roads…they can get pretty crazy…”
Jung PD - whose full name was Jung Jun Ha - also had a tendency to trail away his sentences into nothing.
He now motioned with a lazy flap of the hand and Leeteuk knew that he was invited in. Why shouldn’t he be? He was the radio DJ, after all. And the host of the highest-rated show for Radio KSSN.
Not that it meant much. Radio KSSN had only one show. His.
Jung PD settled behind the dirty audio desk, taking out a pencil and a sheaf of papers. “Here’s the script…happy 40th, by the way.”
Leeteuk winced. He didn’t want anyone to remind him of his aging, especially not by a person who looked like he would have to start planning for his funeral tomorrow.
Despite all that, he liked Jung PD. He was his only friend, and had been ever since ten years ago when the idol group he had been a part of had dissolved.
All of the friendships from that time had disappeared into nothing. All of the contacts, fellow idol friends. Now, the only link that connected him to his once-great past was “The Daily Dish - Only on KSSN!!!”
That was his show. He wasn’t the one who had named it, but it was nevertheless his show and he felt a strong affection towards it.
He now re-directed his attention to Jung PD, who was talking about something. “ - ratings are down 15%, we’re losing advertisers…Leeteuk. What’re you going to do…”
Without waiting for an answer, Jung PD closed the soundproof door behind them and motioned towards the recording studio. “Live in 5 minutes…let’s see how many people tune in today.” He gave Leeteuk a sort of resigned clap on the back and headed into the audio room, shutting the door behind him.
Leeteuk stood there for a couple of seconds, the script on one hand and a pen in the other. He went into the recording studio, navigated past the web of cables and outdated cameras (which Jung PD had bought for one of his “seeing radio” experiments years ago), and sat down in his perennially creaking chair. He arranged the script neatly in front of him, adjusted the boom mike, and put on his set of Sennheisers.
He kept a watchful eye on the enclosed light above the door. It was currently green. When they went live, it would turn red. Leeteuk refocused on the script.
“Good evening, Korea. This is the Daily Dish Leeteuk, bringing you the latest, hottest, juiciest news on today’s hottest stars…KBS has announced a new drama featuring hot young actress Yoon Seung Ah, don’t you think she is a cutie?...Yes, I do too. Seung Ah has revealed her enthusiasm for her role, saying that it was a ‘perfect fit’ - what do you think about her chances to get together with Jun Tae Soo? Wouldn’t that be the perfect couple?...Of course they would be.”
---
Yoon Seung Ah was currently on the 8th floor, Emergency Ward, at Seoul-Gimpo National Hospital. There were tubes feeding into her veins providing her with essential nutrients and a breathing mask over her face.
She had fainted yesterday following a brutal 5-day shooting schedule with only 4 hours of sleep.
Next to her bed, her fans had sent chocolates and lunch boxes. A nurse came in and threw them away before they started to attract flies.
She was scheduled to start filming her new drama tomorrow.
---
Just one floor down, two 19-year-old identical twins were sucking on lollipops and sitting on the velveteen couch in the waiting room. They had large, identical eyes, identically frazzled hair, identically hamster-like cheeks, and an identically wide forehead.
Their names were Ryu Hwayoung and Ryu Hyoyoung. Hwayoung was the older one, by about 30 seconds. She wore a red mockingbird pendant across her neck, while Hwayoung had a pink bluejay.
They were waiting for news of their mother’s death.
It wasn’t shocking news, by any means - they had known she would die for the past 3 years. The question was when.
When the doctors had called them, both of them, they knew it was time. There weren’t any reddened eyes, nor silent crying in the washroom. They had done all that when they had first heard the diagnosis, and now they were just waiting.
They were watching MBC’s “Music Core” on the waiting room television - it was a Saturday afternoon and “Infinity Challenge” would be on next. They sat side-by-side, still licking their lollipops.
Hwayoung’s phone rang. A patient across from them frowned slightly before once again disappearing behind the spread of the latest issue of “Vogue”.
“Hello?”
Hyoyoung watched her sister with muted interest, keeping one eye on the music show on the screen. She waited until Hwayoung had hung up, then asked, “Who is it?”
“It’s our boss.”
“We told him we would be missing dance practice today.”
“He knows. He just wanted to tell us that there’s going to be a general meeting tomorrow. All trainees are supposed to be there.”
“Why?”
Hwayoung shrugged. “Dunno.”
Hyoyoung parroted her move, shrugging likewise.
The doctor entered the room and motioned them to follow him. The two girls stood up to pay their last respects.
On the television, Jung Yong Hwa was performing. The television’s tinny speakers could not fully hide the rock music blasting from the stage.
The patient who had been perusing “Vogue” earlier found the noise annoying, got up, turned the television off, and sat back down.
Silence reigned in the waiting room.