If you haven’t, read Part One before continuing the story.

by Becky 베키

They were all there crowded around Editor M’s desk, looking at me with various expressions of surprise and interest.

“Come in, Becky. We want to ask you something,” Editor M said, with a pleasant smile.

She pointed at the white, leather sofa in her office. I sat down, pretending to be at ease and flashed the group a wide smile. Though I was the tallest person in the room, as I looked up from the sofa at my old bosses standing there, I felt quite small. I had prepped myself mentally before coming to put on a display of confidence and nonchalance, but it wasn’t easy. I had a feeling that not everyone in the room had wanted me to come. While at The Agency, there had been some in the office who believed me. Others who thought I wasn’t worth their time. There were a mix from both camps standing there looking at me just then.

But for better or for worse, I had been summoned to the office and I was going to hear what they wanted.

Manager C gave me a half-smile as I glanced around the group. Manager C was one of the newer members to the management team. She always floated through her work with a sort of muted stress and awkward smile. It was hard to know what she was thinking. But that was often the case when working in The Agency.

She spoke first, “now Becky, I know you aren’t under our management anymore but we always thought you had talent. There’s a new reality show, a model competition, and it’s going to be a great way to get recognition. Of course, you’re not a new face but we think this could be very good for your career. If you go out on the show, you could get lots of airtime.”

I looked around at the group. Editor M was seated at her desk, resting her chin on her hands as she looked at me expectantly. Manager C, Director K, Agent J, who had called me earlier that week, and Agent S looked at me. It was unnerving to be the center of attention - a tiny spotlight that was usually reserved only for their favorites. I felt my face burning.

“We’ll send you all of the information. We’re letting you know specially because we think you could benefit from being on the show. There aren’t many details yet, but just show up for the first audition. After that, you’ll find out what you have to do.” Manager C spoke airily, as if it was no big deal, but she paused and looked at me intently.

“Oh,” I scrambled to fill in the awkward pause, “I’ll have to see the information and… and check my schedule, then I can let you know.” I wasn’t about to accept just anything they offered me. I wondered if there was a catch.

Agent S smirked. “Right, let us know.”

Agent S was a lumpy-shaped man with a sense of humor that always had a somewhat nasty undertone. He struck me as somebody who was probably unpopular during his school days, and now made up for that by demanding respect from anyone younger than him. A by-product of Korea’s hierarchal system. “We’re giving you a special chance, you should accept it right away.”

“Of course,” Manager C continued, as if Agent S hadn’t spoken, “let us know. I don’t know what you’re doing nowadays, but if you can make this work, it will be good for you. You can ask Editor M any questions.”

Editor M cut in, “Becky, you never achieved the success we wanted while you were with us. This is another chance. There will be an audition and judges, and then some contests. The winner will get a modeling contract with us.” It didn’t strike me as such a great award. But for the many, many young boys and girls who dreamed of being a fashion model in Korea, this would look like the opportunity of a lifetime.

I didn’t mention that I wasn’t interested in winning that sort of prize, but said, “that sounds really fun. I’ll think about it.”

Editor M nodded approvingly, while Agent S rolled his eyes.

“그래, 생각해봐.” Editor M said, “If you get on the show, it will require a lot of your time. But, ”she parroted Manager C’s words, “this could be very good for your career.”

I left the office feeling confused. They apparently wanted me on the show badly enough to privately call me in and offer me a spot. Even if there was going to be an audition - which would be filmed in just a few days - the way they spoke sounded like I was already in.

Agent J sent me the details through kakaotalk the next day.

너 꼭 해봐! She added at the bottom. Definitely do it!

Not that I had ever taken her words to heart before, but the idea that The Agency believed in me enough to send me out on this new project was exciting. I had craved their attention for years and now they finally had picked me. I wasn’t doing anything at the moment, I reasoned, and what if I won?

The thing about my career as a model is that it has never really taken off. I’ve always been on the peripheral, right on the edge of everything. I’ve watched many new faces become familiar ones in the Asian fashion world, and even trained a few of them while I worked at The Agency’s academy. That’s the nature of the industry - if you stare too much at the glamour, it’ll blind you from the reality that not everyone will make it.

At this point, I’ve accepted that I’m not top model material. It’s a different stratum than just ‘good-looking and skinny.’ I don’t mind anymore, but back then, it consumed my mind.

If I could get on the show, make a splashy audition and win over the audience with my charming personality, that would be enough. I didn’t care about getting signed by The Agency, but imagine if I won over the public. Wouldn’t that be even better? I lay awake on my floor bed at night, staring at my white wallpaper, envisioning a meteoric rise to fame.

I began taking sessions with a physical trainer after I quit The Agency. While working there, I had never been able to lose enough weight. It was something I constantly fretted over, and it didn’t help that it was brought to my attention by the upper management every single day.

Now that I quit, I had a moment to step back and examine myself. I realized that my eating habits were wrecked. I had devolved into starving myself for a few days then binge eating in one night, resulting in massive guilt the next morning as I stared at my puffy face in the mirror, which turned into a resolve to not eat again, and the cycle continued. The most astonishing thing was how stubbornly obtuse I was about my eating disorder. “I’m strong enough to handle it,” I’d think, “this is the only way I’ll get what I want.” I only once tried to make myself throw up but I lost my nerve. I suppose I hated that feeling more than being fat.

But now I had time to really look at myself and realized that I hadn’t been caring for this poor body of mine. I was very content going on walks around the neighborhood, eating bagels and anything else I wanted, but I knew it couldn’t last forever. I enjoyed a good season of self-indulgence, but ultimately, I decided that I wanted to be fit and healthy. I had enough money to sign up for six months, and had promptly done it before I could change my mind.

“I’m going to be on a model competition show,” I told my trainer, Coach G, one early morning. My legs were trembling. He was making me do weighted lunges.

“Wow, really?” Coach G said, “Drop your knees more. Is it going to be on tv?”

“Yes,” I said, obediently squatting lower, “So you have to get me in shape.”

“No problem,” he said, “40 minutes of running today.”

If I had started telling my trainer that I was going to do this show, then I figured I had unconsciously already made up my mind.

The first day came closer.

All I knew was that I had to show up outside of the SBS building in Digital Media City early in the morning. It was hot already but I decided to wear long jeans that sat snugly on my hips and a long sleeved shirt. It was something I had picked up at training - for auditions, always dress in a way that makes you look taller than you are.

A stage had been set up with a long, red carpet blocked off by crowd control stanchions. I saw a huge, glittering screen floating above the stage with the word SUPERMODEL emblazoned across it. Girls in tiny shorts, boys with carefully gelled hair, and wannabe models of all ages stood in groups, talking excitedly and nervously watching the stage.

“Are you by yourself?” A girl standing next to me asked. She had long hair dyed a reddish-blonde, and very straight teeth.

“Yes. Do you know what’s going on?”

“I’ve been here an hour already,” she said, giggling, “but nothing’s happened. My name is Jina, by the way.”

The sun was getting very hot, but there was no water or shade in the plaza outside of the building. The light reflecting from the glittering screen was blinding to look at, and Jina was dabbing sweat off her forehead every few minutes. Still, nothing happened on the stage, but the crowd of hopefuls kept growing bigger. A few had their mothers with them, who looked around confused but didn’t leave.

My phone vibrated and I checked my kakaotalk. Apparently, there were other Agency models who had been invited to the competition, and Agent J had added us all into one group chat. It was buzzing with new messages already.

“what’s going on, Agent J? Do we need to check in somewhere?
”Oh, unnie, are you here, too??”
”Does anybody have sunscreen? Can I borrow it from you?”

Agent J just messaged back, “good luck.”

After nearly an hour of waiting, suddenly the crowd’s mood shifted and I heard elated screaming from the front. Standing on tip-toe, i could see a small figure step onto the stage. It was one of Korea’s top MCs. He appeared on shows all of the time, and was apparently the host of this one.

“Hello everyone!” His mic’d voice boomed and bounced around the plaza. “I’m Host D!”

I call him Host D because my mother-in-law thinks he looks like a dinosaur.

Host D has a big, square head that glistened with sweat as the hot sun beat down. He was victim to the ferocious heat like the rest of us plebeians.

“It’s starting,” Jina squealed.

“Thank you so much for waiting! We’re very pleased to announce the start of Supermodel Survival!” He paused while the crowd cheered. I saw a few girls jump up and down with excitement. “Look around you, everyone. Do you see those things? Your tv stardom begins now! Smile, you’re on camera!” He pointed around the plaza. For the first time, I noticed the big metal cranes, with heavy cameras hanging from them. The operators slowly swung the cameras over the crowd, capturing the awe and elation. Jina waved feverishly at one of the cameras as it dipped down close to us.

“Yes, everything is on camera. Our judges will be watching everything you do. Not just them, but the whole country will be watching! Winners will be determined not only by how well you do in the competition, but also by popular vote.” His announcement was punctuated shrieks and applause. I was too hot to clap.

“Now, I’m beautiful enough to be a model,” Host D cracked. The audience laughed, “but I’m not smart enough to know who is a top model or not. Please put your hands together for the judges of Supermodel Survival!” He flung out his arm dramatically and pointed down the long, red runway that split the crowd in half. We all turned our heads in unison to the end of the carpet as Korea’s top model Jang Yoon Ju appeared and began to strut down to the stage. I admit, even in my thirsty and scorched state, my heart jumped a little at the sight of her. Jang Yoon Ju is one of Korea’s top models for one major reason - charisma.

Behind her came another judge - one of The Agency’s male models. He joined Jang Yoon Ju on stage, where they bantered and chatted a few moments with Host D before Jang Yoon Ju took the mic.

“You’re all here for a reason,” she said, her dark hair swinging around her back like a waterfall. “Because you have a dream. I was once like you. Now you have the chance to show the world your talents and beauty. 응원합니다.”

Boys swooned and girls shrieked as she waved and stepped off the platform. This the amazing thing about star power - you can do the barest minimum and still knock the vulnerable over. And that crowd was full of the most vulnerable model wannabes in all of Korea. Including myself.

The whole thing barely lasted twenty minutes. The cameras zoomed overhead and we all strained to listen while Host D explained what was going to happen next.

“Come back to this spot for the first part - The Audition! Prepare one talent and come looking your best! Congratulations and we look forward to seeing your success on SUPERMODEL SURVIVAL!” He threw his arms up in a victorious pose and left the stage.

The heat was getting unbearable and my legs were aching. “So, see you then?” I said to Jina, hoping to leave as soon as I could.

Her eyes were shining, “what are you going to do?” She asked,” For your talent?”

I didn’t know yet, but all I knew is it had to be great. I wanted to be impossible to turn away.

“I bet you could win,” Jina said, looking me up and down, “you’re so tall and pretty. And exotic-looking. You’re so lucky!” she suddenly wailed. I smiled tightly, but felt secretly elated. Maybe I would have an edge.

As I sat on the subway, feeling the blessedly cool air conditioner wave overhead, I checked the kakaotalk group chat again.

“So you all need to prepare your talents, got it?” Agent J had messaged. “This is your chance.”

“What if I don’t have anything I can do??” one girl’s anxious message read.

“Find something,” Agent J replied. I put my phone away and began to think.

To be continued in Part Three: The Audition