Chapter 132. The Homeland of Cowboys
"Kevin~! You're going to be on screen a lot from Episode 1. You'll be a star soon!"
After filming for 〈I Got Talent〉 ended, a senior PD who was also in charge of editing patted Kevin Park on the shoulder and praised him.
"Hahaha! Please stop filming my face. The show does better when celebrities get more screen time."
"Everyone has a role, Kevin. A role."
After filming Episode 1, the atmosphere on the 〈I Got Talent〉 set was practically festive.
The judges had come across extremely well, and the tension had been good too.
There was Nicola Hirsch, known as the Queen of Performance, who had repeatedly climbed the Billboard charts until about a decade ago.
Then John Patrit, a man regarded as an icon of the rock-and-roll era.
And Nick Allen, who, together with Revick, carried on Kendrick Laba's West Coast hip-hop lineage.
It was a cast capable of appealing to rock fans, pop fans, and hip-hop fans alike.
Even the contestants were so talented that it didn't look like the editors would need to struggle much to find usable footage.
Since Kevin Park had been the one to plan and aggressively push the program forward, he'd been extremely nervous.
Yet already, he felt as though he'd received a passing grade.
Of course, some senior CPs from other programs had voiced concerns.
No program ever went exactly according to plan.
Especially not a survival show.
They had watched today's recording and said that having too few unpredictable variables could itself be ominous.
But there wasn't really any evidence behind that concern.
Even the senior CPs themselves hadn't sounded particularly serious when they said it.
"Captain Park! Your directing was very professional and clean. I think this is going to be a very enjoyable schedule."
"That's because all of you are doing such an amazing job. Hahaha. My girlfriend is a huge fan of yours, Ms. Nicola Hirsch. Could I ask you for an autograph later?"
"I could sign a hundred for you. As long as you don't put them on an online marketplace afterward~ Hahaha."
Nicola Hirsch and the other judges encouraged Kevin as they left the studio.
When contestants were onstage, they had created an intimidating atmosphere.
But off camera, they were practically close friends.
Except for one person.
Nick Allen.
Nick Allen casually threw an arm around Kevin Park's shoulders and dragged him somewhere secluded.
Nick Allen was enormous, with tattoos covering his entire body.
Rappers supposedly even got into shootouts with each other.
Kevin felt deeply uncomfortable.
Honestly, he was scared.
"Hey, Captain. Why do you keep setting up weird matchups whenever my crew members come out?"
Nick Allen asked in an intimidating tone.
By crew members, he presumably meant the rappers from Western Pistols, the crew Nick Allen led.
And just as he'd said, quite a few Western Pistols rappers had appeared on the show that day.
But there weren't even any matchups to begin with.
Contestants appeared in the order their applications had been received.
Whether the judges gave them an O or an X depended on their individual ability.
Nick Allen didn't even seem to understand the show's basic format.
"Come on. What matchups? That's all decided by luck. Seriously."
"Luck? You're saying it's just a coincidence that talented people always appear right before and after my guys?"
He even complained that his crew members were highly skilled, yet Kevin kept placing them beside people doing strange rock or pop imitations.
"And why the hell did you let that Anderson Lee bastard through?"
"Anderson Lee? Ah, the Korean-American rapper?"
Anderson Lee was another West Coast rapper like Nick Allen, though apparently from a different crew.
During filming, Nick Allen had harshly criticized Anderson Lee.
But the other two judges had approved him, allowing him to advance to the next round.
"Those LA Koreans already have irritating voices, and they rap like monks chanting Buddhist sutras. It's ridiculous. His address might say LA, but how does that bastard advance unanimously if you exclude me?"
"Apparently the other judges thought he sounded good."
"Bullshit. You're helping him because you're both Asian, aren't you? I heard Koreans secretly control America from behind the scenes. Guess it was true."
That would be Jews, not Koreans.
There was clearly no point trying to reason with him.
Even if Kevin was technically overseeing 〈I Got Talent〉, he was still a relatively junior employee at the network.
How was he supposed to manipulate whether the judges passed or failed contestants?
Nick Allen roughly slapped Kevin's back.
Kevin felt like his entire body shook.
"Let's make this show fun together. Hahaha! But you know something? My crew members always carry one big gun inside their pants."
After leaving him with that final threat, Nick Allen walked out of the studio.
Kevin didn't think Nick actually had a gun in his pocket right then.
Still, he couldn't shake the fear that something bad might genuinely happen to him soon.
We were in the middle of a samgyeopsal party to strengthen the members' bond when Moon Hee-jung called.
Today was May 10.
It wouldn't even be an exaggeration to say I'd known for a month that she would call me around now.
She was probably calling about 〈I Got Talent〉.
"Yes, this is Do Jun-hyeok."
I stepped outside the restaurant and answered.
Moon Hee-jung immediately gave me a brief update on how her business activities in America were going.
〈Come Out of There〉 was completely ready.
All that remained was waiting for the showcase schedule.
She'd contacted Park Gwang-cheol, whom I'd introduced her to, and apparently he'd been a tremendous help.
If I'd intended to make her run a business in a completely unfamiliar country with no support, I never would've called her to America in the first place.
"And you know 〈I Got Talent〉, the program you mentioned before? Since I had some time, I looked up a few articles about it."
"Really? What do you think? Do you like it?"
"I've liked it since before. But... I just sent you a link. Could you check it?"
The moment she said that, my messenger app showed a notification.
I opened my chat with Moon Hee-jung.
There was a link to Nick Allen's social-media account.
[Hiphop_nick: Holy Lord's shit. You're saying you're helping someone succeed just because they're the same race as you?]
There it was.
The keyword race.
There was still a week left until the date when he was supposed to upload the rage-filled post from the spam video.
Apparently, the future post had been the fatal one, but even before then, he'd been posting ominous things like this.
"You said before that a judge position would open up there, right? If someone quits voluntarily, it looks like Nick Allen might be the one. How did you know he had this kind of personality?"
"Well, you know. I'd heard some things from Revick. Anyway, if it's already reached this point, I'd say it's practically confirmed. Do you think you can handle being a judge?"
"I actually managed to get in touch with some people connected to the show and asked around. Apparently, the recording went insanely well. I'm nowhere near the level of those judges, but just imagining that I might appear there as one makes me too excited to sit still. Is it really possible?"
When I'd first gone to America, Park Gwang-cheol had helped establish the foundation for my activities there.
If I introduced Moon Hee-jung to him, he would probably take just as good care of her.
He was the kind of person who could continuously introduce her to people in broadcasting and provide staff, including a road manager, without making her feel short-handed.
"If some completely unknown Korean woman suddenly appears as a judge on 〈I Got Talent〉, people will search my name. Then they'll find out about the Dessault members too."
"Exactly. I'll take that as a yes and contact Kevin."
As soon as I ended the call with Moon Hee-jung, I called Kevin.
