Page 73 of K-Pop Double Life

Sun-hee-noona said, “The fact is, most trainees don’t debut. The attrition rate is enormous. If a trainee isn’t picked for a group, they are released from their trainee contracts. After that they can audition for another entertainment company, pursue another career in entertainment, like dance, acting, or styling, or leave the industry altogether and return to school or another profession.”

“That’s a very corporate statement, Sun-hee-noona,” Haneul said. He turned to Aidan and Liam. “A trainee released after five years might owe the company sixty million won. We all know people who have been destroyed by losing their chance at a career, and then facing that kind of debt.”

“I know at least two suicides,” Min-kyu said. “If someone feels like Jin stole his place—or any of us, for that matter—that can really mess with your head.”

“I knew a dancer who committed suicide after he lost his contract,” Tae said. “His whole family was angry and tried to sue the company.”

Aidan looked at Liam. “All those are viable motives for anger against Jin, or Starhouse. But the organization responsible for these threats leads us to believe someone with financial and operational means, not just a personal grudge.”

Liam nodded. “The second possibility is financial. Someone who benefits if Pryzm’s tour fails. A competitor. A promoter. Someone with business interests we haven’t identified.”

“The third,” Aidan said, “is corporate.”

He leaned forward.

“Someone inside Starhouse who believes Pryzm has received unfair advantages. Someone willing to damage both the group and the company.”

Eun-ji’s expression tightened.

“And finally,” Liam said, “it’s possible these attacks aren’t the end goal at all. They may be intended to pressure Starhouse into some concession we haven’t identified.”

“So you still don’t know which theory is right,” Min-kyu said.

“No,” Liam admitted. “And we’re not eliminating any of them yet.”

Aidan tapped the display with his pen.

“One thing we are confident about. These attacks aren’t impulsive. They require money, planning, technical skill, and patience. Whoever’s behind them has invested a great deal of time and resources.”

Jason looked around the table. “If someone sabotages lighting over the stage, plants an explosive backstage, contaminates catering, or attacks a vehicle, everyone nearby is in danger. Whether the attacker intends to kill Jin alone or destroy Pryzm as a group, the result could be the same.”

No one spoke.

For the first time, I realized this wasn’t just about protecting me.

Every person in this room could die because someone wanted to reach the center.

Haneul spoke for the first time, his voice steady. “What about the show on Tuesday?”

“We’re doing a complete security sweep of the venue. Jason’s team will be there overnight, checking every access point, every piece of equipment.” Liam glanced at Eun-ji. “We’re also limiting backstage access to touring staff only.”

“That’s going to create problems,” Eun-ji said. “The venue has their own crew.”

“Who will work under direct supervision of our security team,” Jason cut in. “No exceptions. If the venue doesn’t like it, we cancel the show.”

The room went silent.

Sang-hoon’s hand found mine under the table, squeezed once. I squeezed back.

“There’s one more thing,” Liam said, and he frowned. “We’ve identified several Starhouse employees with potential motive and access to the systems being used for these threats.”

He pulled up another slide—names, photos, brief descriptions.

Choi Ji-won - Former manager of NOVA, reassigned after budget disputes

Lee Sang-min - Manager of Zenith, vocal about resource allocation

Sara Yoon - Manager of Vanta, frequent travel to tour cities