Chapter 10: CHAPTER NINE

Thame had never wanted to leave his friends behind. From the very first day he was named leader of Mars, he had always vowed to support everyone’s dreams to the best of his ability.

If we rise, we rise together. If one of us falls, let it be me alone.

Mars debuted with their first album, but the sales were disappointing. They had only a small group of fans, and no matter how many shows they appeared on, they never gained the level of popularity the company had hoped for. Winner Entertainment’s initial investment in Mars resulted in massive losses.

Pemika called Thame in for a meeting about the future of Mars. Thame told her he wanted Mars to continue, to release a second album, and to use songs they had written themselves. But Pemika had a different suggestion—she wanted Thame to go solo first.

“I’m not ready to go solo,” Thame said firmly. “I want the band to succeed first, and then I’ll consider it.”

“Thame, the band isn’t going anywhere. Don’t you see that?” Pemika replied in her usual calm, collected tone. The sharp and poised executive had never raised her voice or lost her temper in any of Thame’s dealings with her. Pemika wasn’t boiling water; she was ice—calm and controlled, but capable of freezing anything in her path.

“But if I go solo…”

“Your fame will bring attention back to the band,” Pemika interrupted, anticipating his concern. “We need a focal point to draw people to Mars.

You’re that focal point. As the main vocalist, only you can do that.”

“Can I refuse? I don’t want us to become like Ice’s group.” He referred to the older band that had disbanded, leaving only Ice to shine as a solo artist.

“It’s not the same as Ice’s situation,” Pemika said coolly. “If you want Mars to survive, there’s no other way. Do you want me to invest in another Mars album only to lose more money? I’ll consider doing another Mars project when the numbers justify the investment. If you can bring the numbers back up, we’ll talk about Mars again.”

“How much?” Thame asked.

Pemika slid a document with financial figures across the table. “I know you all have songs you want to produce, but that will have to wait until the numbers recover.”

“You’re not just dangling a carrot in front of me, are you?”

“I didn’t create Mars to destroy it,” Pemika replied. “I created it to take it as far as it could go. And my plan for Mars is you. The question is: will you do this for your friends?”

Thame thought long and hard before agreeing.

—

Thame’s solo single became an unprecedented success. His vocals topped every chart in the country, and he skyrocketed to fame. Pemika kept her word and produced Mars’s second album, which catapulted the band into stardom.

The band’s popularity soared. Jun was scouted for acting roles in series.

Pepper became a rising star on variety shows, showing potential as a host.

Nano’s dance skills landed him guest spots and judging roles on dance programs. Dylan began training as a music producer and contributed to some of Winner’s tracks.

Meanwhile, Thame juggled his responsibilities between the band and his solo career. Mars began receiving endorsements from brands—some deals for the entire band, but most were for Thame alone.

“Can I just take the deals for the band?” Thame asked Pemika before signing an endorsement deal.

“Don’t pass up opportunities, Thame,” Pemika advised. “Everything you do —everything you touch—counts as a win for the band. It all helps pay off Mars’s debts.”

Thame signed the contracts. As his popularity grew, brands began requesting separate makeup artists and stylists for him, preferring Thame over the rest of the band. He had more solo events and client appearances than anyone else.

Thame’s fame carried Mars through another year, and he was confident he had repaid the band’s debt. He approached Pemika with a song, hoping to negotiate.

“I want Mars to release a new album. We’ve written a song for it.”

“Thame, Mars isn’t releasing any new songs.”

“But I’ve revised the—” “Mars won’t be releasing anything new.”

“What do you mean? Haven’t I repaid the band’s debt?”

“We’ve received a better offer.” Pemika slid a business card from a Korean company across the table. “They want you to debut with them.”

Thame froze, staring at her in disbelief.

“I’m not going!” he declared. “Everything I’ve done so far wasn’t for this offer. I did it for the band, for this song!” He held up the lyrics he had brought with him.

“I know you’ve done everything for the band, leading it forward every step of the way. But have you ever looked back to see what’s happened along the way? Have you gone back to check on your friends at the dorm? No one’s been staying there for a while.”

Thame froze. He hadn’t known. He hadn’t returned to the dorm in a long time. His days were consumed with work. Mick had booked him a hotel close to his job. When he did go back, he hadn’t questioned Dylan’s absence from his bed, assuming Dylan was busy composing in the studio.

The dorm was always messy, but Thame thought it was just because everyone was asleep.

“Have you heard your friends complain about how their schedules revolve around you? Some of them have had to cancel personal projects to accommodate you.”

Thame didn’t know.

“You’ve helped Mars grow,” Pemika continued. “You’ve made Jun recognizable enough to land acting gigs. Dylan is now respected as a rapper and producer. Nano has made his mark as a dancer. Pepper is becoming a great host. As the band leader, you’ve sent your friends far. But are you now going to drag them back into the past, into your dream, and into this song you’re holding?”

Thame lowered his gaze, speechless.

Everything Pemika said hit him like a wave of truth he hadn’t seen before.

He had been running forward, thinking only of how to push the band as far as possible, how to keep his promise to his friends. He had never realized that along the way, he was creating fractures. Perhaps the dreams they once shared had changed.

“Don’t be so stubborn, Thame,” Pemika said softly. “Let your friends be free from Mars.”

TO BE CONTINUED.