Chapter 149
Last year, Ban Yo-han never even imagined, let alone predicted, that he would become a member of Orca. As an ordinary twenty-year-old, he could confidently say that he had never done anything he shouldn’t have.
‘I didn’t even date.’
Although he had no intention of dating, there was a significant difference between not wanting to and being unable to due to external factors. This thought annoyed Ban Yo-han a bit.
Ban Yo-han’s innate rebellious or contrarian nature was well-known even within his family.
It was definitely a contradiction that while dating, considered essential in society, was almost seen as a crime for idols.
He wasn’t saying one side was right; both seemed strange. At least, that’s how it appeared to him.
‘Just let people live their own lives, whether they date or not…’
In some ways, it was simply a question that could be laughed off, but he found himself overthinking it because their job was to live off an image based on a bit of reality and a lot of fantasy.
Once an image was established, it was easy yet hard to break. It greatly affected their careers. Sometimes, an image could even consume an individual.
For example, having a model and kind image made it easy to gain public favor, but maintaining that image could be exhausting. If a single slip-up occurred, the backlash would be much harsher.
After weighing and considering all this, Ban Yo-han soon made a decision.
“After I enrolled, I went out once in March with some classmates.”
Ban Yo-han smiled lightly, showing a carefree attitude rather than one of serious contemplation.
“Actually, even if it was a meeting, I wasn’t seriously thinking of meeting a girlfriend or a boyfriend there. It was just a group of close friends deciding to go out for a drink for a day. The seniors said it’s something you should try at least once during freshman year for fun.”
“Oh, really? So, you didn’t go out for any after-parties?”
“No.”
“And you didn’t date anyone you met there?”
“That’s right.”
Han Ki-joon, who asked openly, was inwardly disappointed. He thought there might be something since Ban Yo-han didn’t get flustered by the sudden question, but his responses were, at best, plain and, at worst, boring.
The answers themselves seemed like they could be sensationalized, but after hearing everything, it felt like he was a well-behaved student who finally had some fun after diligently growing up, like a model student who his mom’s friends would brag about.
“Why did you only go out once?”
“I’m the type who thinks it’s good to try everything at least once. But is this really important?”
“Of course it is. You’re a role model for 600,000 students. Have you been to clubs or pick-up bars? Isn’t that the essence of college life?”
Since when did clubs become the essence of college life?
Han Ki-joon seemed to want to create an image of Ban Yo-han as someone who, as an idol, had tried all the rebellious acts that were implicitly forbidden during his time as a regular person.
He seemed to think that was interesting.
“Oh, I’ve been to a club once.”
Some people secretly shook their heads at his nonchalant response.
Just saying he went to a club evoked an unwholesome feeling in many people, leading to strong aversion or negative preconceptions.
As an idol, especially a newly debuted one, there was no benefit in admitting to having gone to a club.
Having taken a sudden turn to become an idol rather than growing up as a trainee, no matter how smart he was, he seemed a bit out of touch with such questions.
Some people listening to the conversation thought this was a classic “idol novice” moment.
Then, Ban Yo-han placed his clasped hands on his chest and added a word.
“Aeri fans, don’t worry. My body is still pure.”
“!”
The crowd, realizing the bombshell nature of his statement that blew away all previous conversations, burst into uproarious laughter.
Pure… pure… pure…
The five-syllable word echoed endlessly in their minds.
It was the moment when the nickname ‘Ban-El-To’ that fans used started appearing on public broadcast subtitles.
Kang Ji-woo, who knew his friend’s temperament and was watching him with slight tension, let out a resigned chuckle and twirled his finger near his temple.
Kang Ji-woo’s expression of disbelief, with his lips pressed tight and his eyes wide open, was priceless.
This scene would later become one of the legendary memes widely circulated on the internet.
The extremely disdainful look from the younger members was a bonus.
“What is this guy doing in the sacred idol variety show…?”
Ban Yo-han, gesturing with both hands as if to say, ‘What’s the problem? You’re the one who asked for this,’ calmly faced the visibly flustered Han Ki-joon.
Ban Yo-han, who had no intention of being confined by the title of a perfect scorer, aimed to maintain an image that was fun without crossing the line.
By candidly sharing past stories that, while not crimes, could become blemishes if misinterpreted, and ending with a strong punchline, he achieved the purpose of participating in Han Ki-joon’s provocative Q&A.
Though the comment was bold for an idol, the title of a perfect scorer would effectively neutralize it. He was a unique, one-of-a-kind character in the entertainment world.
“This guy looks so normal…”
“Crazy, right?”
Then, as Ban Yo-han tried to say more, Kang Ji-woo seized the microphone from him and finished speaking in place of the still speechless Han Ki-joon.
“Yes. It’s crazy. But usually, in a group, it’s not just one person who’s crazy.”
Han Ki-joon, who recovered relatively quickly thanks to his experience, drew the crowd’s attention to the other members criticizing Ban Yo-han as if nothing had happened.
“Pardon?”
“How long has it been since Orca debuted?”
“It’s our second year now.”
“No, I mean when exactly did you debut?”
Why the informal language? On Raon grumbled internally as he tightly held Ban Yo-han’s arm to stop him from doing anything more foolish.
“It’s been just under two months now. We debuted last November.”
“Look, even you must realize there’s a big difference between two years and two months, right?”
“But it’s the truth.”
Kang Ji-woo smiled politely.
“Look at this. They’ve only been around for two months and they’re already like this. It seems Orca is quite a dangerous team that needs careful watching…”
Only after receiving a signal from the staff to proceed did Han Ki-joon manage to wrap up the situation.
“Thank you for waiting. Now, let’s see what kind of meeting Orca and Cheristine have prepared.”
Yoo Hana, who had been watching the situation unfold without much to say, quickly made the announcement.
“Excuse me, could I borrow a microphone?”
On Raon slipped out from among the members forming the role-play setup and made the request.
“Wait, Raon, aren’t you participating?”
Han Ki-joon asked as On Raon received a microphone from a staff member and stood a bit away from the others.
“No. Since I’m a minor, my older members told me not to join the adult meeting.”
When On Raon sulkily mentioned being excluded due to his age, the audience erupted into cheers.
On Raon wondered why the audience was cheering at this point.
‘Are they glad I’m at least escaping from this awful meeting?’
At that moment, one Aeri fan, trying to avoid the watchful eyes of the broadcast staff who looked at them as if they were a suspect, posted the following on social media:
– Ah, the black-haired youngest is really so cute, looking sullen by himself. The expressions of the older members watching him are just like mine when I watch the kids ㅠㅠㅠㅠ Let’s always stay the youngest ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ
Anyway, On Raon successfully got the microphone.
Han Ki-joon asked curiously.
“Then why do you need a microphone if you’re not participating in the role-play?”
“Because I’m also a member of Orca. I’ll do the narration.”
With a determined look as if he would secure a role no matter what, even if it wasn’t in the role-play, On Raon made his declaration.
Han Ki-joon, who normally wore a sullen expression as a passive skill, couldn’t help but smile like a father before clearing his throat.
“Alright then, let’s see the role-play meeting between Orca and Cheristine.”
The four members of Orca, excluding On Raon, and the four members of Cheristine, excluding Ji Yeong-seo, stood in lines facing each other.
Ji Yeong-seo stood in the middle, holding a thin blanket like a curtain, motionless as if he were playing an inanimate role in a play.
A tense moment.
“[Once upon a time, long long ago…]”
On Raon’s soft, fluent English, as if reading a bedtime story, flowed from his lips.
Caught off guard, the members of Orca and Cheristine collapsed from their prepared poses.
The other idol members and the audience were no different.
The fans, especially Aeri, who were tense thinking this might be a serious meeting, were taken by surprise by the sudden smooth English, and On Raon’s theatrical wide-eyed expression drew an overwhelming burst of laughter from the crowd.
The Orca members, who were somewhat immersed in the situation, belatedly rushed at On Raon in protest, asking what he was doing.
The Cheristine members, meanwhile, were busy laughing, either falling to the ground or hitting each other at the sudden action of another group’s youngest member.
“That’s not it! Why are you speaking English! This is a Korean broadcast, you idiot!”
The loudest protester, Gyun Seong-ha, wasn’t heard by those far away.
Since there were too many cast members, it was impossible to give each one a microphone.
The two hand mics provided for the role-play were held by each group’s leader.
But even without hearing his voice, it was clear from the expression on Gyun Seong-ha’s face, which was prominently displayed on the large screen, what he was saying…