It was safe to say Kang Ian and Silas made feral use of the free meal.
Seth had brought them to a high-end Korean BBQ place—the kind with private dining rooms, charcoal grills built into the table, and a menu where nothing costs less than someone's weekly paycheck.
And when Seth told them to order anything they want?
Oh, they did. With zero hesitation.
Towering stacks of plates. Wagyu, hanwoo, marinated premium cuts—the kind of food their trainee stipends could never even dream of touching.
Meanwhile, Seth sat there with nothing but a black coffee like some mysterious, gorgeous sugar daddy sponsor observing his adopted sons feast. He didn't interrupt, didn't pry—just watched them with quiet fascination.
As they ate and finally relaxed, they started talking freely, forgetting he was even in the room. Their walls dropped. Their real thoughts slipped out.
That was when Seth learned:
Silas's contract ends tomorrow.
Ian's contract will end at the end of the month.
He had already read the background reports…but hearing their feelings firsthand was another story.
Silas was stuck in limbo—loyal to Big Hype, but new offers were tempting him like a large vanilla cookie frappuccino with extra drizzle of carmel sauce.
Kang Ian, meanwhile, had been told by upper management that he'd be guaranteed a debut if he renewed. His happiness was obvious. Silas congratulated him sincerely, even though he himself was left behind.
Silas wasn't Big Hype's "type."
They kept him around for years hoping to mold him, but never figured out what to do with him. So now they weren't even asking him to re-sign.
He felt discarded.
Ian, on the other hand, was a diamond.
After polishing off the last bite of wagyu, both young men sighed at the same time, blissed out and full.
In that dreamy food coma haze, Ian grumbled:
"아… 진짜, 왜 널 그냥 놔주는 거야. 이해가 안 돼."
Ahhh… Seriously, why would they willingly let you go? I really don't get it.
Silas nudged him gently.
"괜찮아."
It's fine.
"아마 인연이 아니었던 거지, 뭐. 그래도 걱정 마. 음악 방송 같은 데서 우리 계속 볼 거야. 난 무조건 데뷔할 거니까. 빅하입은 아니어도, 난 데뷔할 거야."
Maybe Big Hype just wasn't meant for me. But don't worry—we'll still see each other on music shows. I'll definitely debut. Maybe not with Big Hype, but I swear, I'll debut.
The moment was warm… until someone cleared their throat.
They had completely forgotten Seth existed.
He smiled softly, professional but kind.
"이야기가 나온 김에… 제가 두 분을 찾아온 이유는, 저희 회사에 합류하실 기회를 드리고 싶어서입니다."
Since we are already on the topic, the reason I approached you both is to offer you the opportunity to join our company.
He retrieved two sleek black folders and slid them across the table.
"이건 저희 회사에서 제공하는 표준 계약서입니다. 영어 버전과 한국어 버전이 각각 들어 있습니다. 천천히 읽어보세요."
These are the standard contracts offered by our company. Each folder has two identical copies—one in English, one in Korean. Please take your time and read through them.
They had promised to hear him out, so they did.
For a while.
Then—bang.
Kang Ian slammed the folder shut and tossed it onto the table.
"이거 사기네."
That shit's a scam.
He glared at Seth, distrust thick in his voice.
"저게 진짜일 리가 없잖아."
There's no way that's real.
Seth didn't flinch.
"의심하실 수 있다는 거 알고 있습니다. 그래서 작은 선물을 준비했습니다."
I understand your distrust. That's why the company would like to give you a small gift.
He placed thick envelopes in front of both men.
Ian scoffed.
"뭐야, 이제는 뇌물이야?"
What, so you're bribing us now?
Seth remained patient, graceful even.
"아닙니다. 그건 신뢰할 만한 변호사를 고용하시라고 드리는 비용입니다. 계약서의 진위 여부를 검토하시도록요. 저희가 진심임을 보여드리고 싶을 뿐입니다."
No. It's for you to hire a reputable lawyer to check the authenticity of the contracts. It's to show we are sincere.
Ian snarled.
"개소리하네. 뇌물은 딱 봐도 뇌물이지."
You're lying out of your ass. I know a bribe when I see one.
He stood abruptly.
"밥은 잘 먹었어요."
Thanks for the food.
And he stormed out.
"야! 강이안!" Silas shouted, shocked.
Hey! Kang Ian!
He turned to Seth, flustered.
"어… 밥 잘 먹었습니다."
Uhhh… Thank you for the food.
He grabbed their folders and his own envelope—but left Ian's—bowed deeply, and rushed out.
"죄송합니다. 감사합니다…"
Sorry, and thank you…
---
Outside, Silas caught up to Ian and yanked him around by the arm.
"씨발 뭐 하는 짓이야?! 걘 우리한테 잘해주기만 했잖아—왜 지랄하면서 개같이 굴었어?"
What the fuck was that?! He's been nothing but nice to us—why did you treat him like shit?
Ian clenched his jaw, eyes averted.
Silas growled low, barely containing his frustration.
"너 도대체 왜 이래? 갑자기 왜 그렇게 미친 듯이 굴어?"
What the hell is wrong with you? Why did you suddenly act like that?
Silence.
A long, painful silence.
Silas sighed, shoulders falling.
"됐어… 정신 좀 차려. 난 간다."
Fine… Get your shit together. I'm out.
And he walked off, leaving Ian standing there alone under the cold Gangnam lights.
---
Back in the restaurant, Seth pulled out his phone and dialed in.
The moment the line connected he spoke:
"Seth Volkov reporting. Phase one… partially completed."
He exhaled in disappointment—directed at himself more than anything.
Foca's confused voice came through.
"Hmm? What happened?"
"I'm sorry, sir."
"No need to be," Foca said gently. "Everyone fails from time to time. Tell me what happened."
Seth did—word for word, leaving nothing out.
"Huh… then something personal must be going on with Kang Ian," Foca mused. "Anyway, you still did an excellent job."
"Thank you, sir," Seth breathed, relief warming his chest. "Sir, how should I proceed with Kang Ian?"
"Give him until the deadline," Foca said firmly. "If he still doesn't show up… proceed without him."
It would be unfortunate to lose someone like Kang Ian.
But he was given a chance.
What he did with it was up to him.
---
Back in LA, Foca, Luca and Tuesday were deep in a meeting when Seth called. He was automatically placed on speakerphone—meaning Luca and Tuesday heard everything that went down.
Seth's voice blasted through the room, relaying the entire situation with Kang Ian — the contract, the sudden outburst, everything. Tuesday's jaw dropped so hard it nearly hit the floor.
After the call ended, Tuesday finally exploded.
"Aw hell nah! What is WRONG with that man!?" Tuesday grabbed her wig — a slick lilac-purple number — like it personally offended her. "He was my damn bias on The Genesis Project! I voted for his ass! But he really woke up today and chose 'Ohio behavior.' Let me tell you somethin', I am pissed."
Luca nearly choked holding in his laughter. "Welp," he said, shrugging, "we'll just… let fate do its thing, I guess."
Tuesday snapped her head toward him. "Oh uh-uh. I KNOW you didn't just go poetic philosopher mode on me."
"My dear beloved best friends," Foca cut in, voice fraying at the edges as his Old English started slipping out—always the first sign he needed sleep. "I beseech thee… let us return to the agenda at hand."
Tuesday blinked. "Oh he's tired-tired."
"Fully." Luca nodded.
"Terminally," Tuesday added.
"Shut up, both of you," Foca muttered, rubbing his temples.
"Alright, hear me out." Luca leaned forward, eyes sparkling with sleep-deprived insanity. "We need talented artists we can actually help shine, right? So why don't we just… do an audition program?"
He meant it as a joke.
Unfortunately for him, Foca and Tuesday turned toward him with the exact same expression: dangerously interested.
"…No. Guys. No, I was kidding—"
"Please… do elaborate," Foca said, fully awake now.
"I'm seated. Spill," Tuesday added, folding her arms.
"Uh—this was supposed to be a joke, guys, I didn't—"
"Less yappin', more explainin'." Tuesday snapped her fingers in a Z-motion, eyes locked on him.
"Fine," Luca sighed dramatically. "We open global auditions on our website. Anyone from 18 to, say, 30 — because we don't discriminate on age in this house — can apply. We gather around a hundred trainees from all over the world. Stick them on a single island, kind of like a trainee camp. Train them. Push their limits. Help them show their full potential."
Tuesday's eyes widened. Foca leaned in.
"As the training goes on, we hold monthly evaluations to see who's growing, who's worth signing, yadda yadda. We can license the show to Webflix or something. So we hit two birds with one stone — talent scouting and public exposure for the company." Luca finished with a proud little shrug. "The end. Feel free to add or subtract."
There was a beat of silence.
Then—
"Luca… that is genuinely an excellent idea." Foca said, smiling proudly at him.
"POP OFF, KING!" Tuesday clapped her acrylics together. "I was shooketh! Like… wig snatched!"
Foca stood from his chair, stretching his tired spine. "Now that we have a foundation, we'll polish the details at the next meeting with the department heads." He exhaled, satisfied. "And with that… meeting adjourned."