#id.park bogum

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON NITRO’S MAIN VOCAL HA MINSOO...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: Min CURRENT AGE: 25 DEBUT AGE: 18 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 13 COMPANY: Koala.T SECONDARY SKILL: Acting

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): “Minnie Mouse” - A result of Minsoo’s startled reaction to a prank during a variety show in his rookie years. The host’s witty comment had stuck to his image. That was back when he was freshly debuted and grasping for any sort of distinction. Now it’s more of an inside joke between older fans, but he’s still the highlight to every haunted house special, and he still obediently grins and dons a minnie mouse headband at every other fansign.

“Min-ergy” - He’s the mood-maker. The man with the brightest smile. The energizing force that drives conversations forward and fills in the awkward gaps.

“White Knight” - A fairly recent one that took off following a viral video of him “saving” his music show co-host from falling down the stairs. It’s suspected the nickname began as a mocking throwaway comment by an anon, but fans were quick to seize upon it and spin it into genuine praise. INSPIRATION: When asked, his greatest inspiration is trot singer Lee Mi-Ja. He says he grew up with his grandparents listening to her 24/7. He remembers being starstruck by her stage presence and may have had a little crush on her for most of his formative years. SPECIAL TALENTS:

His eye smile

Crying on demand

Making the soda bottle opening + pouring sound with his mouth

NOTABLE FACTS:

Appeared on the TV Show ‘Star King’ as the seven year old child who loved to sing trot  

He used to be a somewhat well-known trainee at Midas, but got convinced to join Koala.T after uncertainty of his chances of debut

He is an only child, but has publicly lamented many times of this fact and has frequently restated his lifelong dream to be an older brother.

It takes him longer than most to memorize choreography, and his movements are notably more stiff than those with natural talent.

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

Minsoo wants to capitalize on his viral moment. He wants to ride the momentum into landing more roles in dramas. He wants to do well in them. Really well. Well enough to make every girl in the nation dream about him as their boyfriend. Minsoo wants Nitro to win a daesang. It might be unthinkable with where they are now, but who knows? Maybe after a stint in a successful drama or two… A couple ace comebacks… Anything can happen, and Minsoo’s nothing but ambitious.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

He predicts he’ll always be typecast for roles as the lovable nice guy due to his ironclad public image. He’s fine with that. If anything, that’s what he’s hoping for. The acting industry is saturated with rising talents, idol or otherwise. Minsoo’s planning on staying around for the long haul, and he’ll do so by carving out a niche that only he can occupy. He wants to be unforgettable. He wants to build a legacy. He wants to touch the ceiling then retire, gracefully, maybe to a house somewhere with the ocean right next door.

IDOL IMAGE

As far as Koala.T is concerned, there’s no such thing as a Nitro member with a bad personality. They’re the well-behaved, hardworking, “Oppa-I-hope-you-only-walk-the-flower-road” boys who fill their fans with purpose from rooting for the underdogs.

Minsoo falls in line seamlessly.

For the longest time, his company markets him as the bubbly, slightly ditzy, mischievous type who incites equal parts mirth and exasperation from his members. His youthful features and boyish grin practically seals the deal. Variety shows documenting the group’s lives would frame him as the funny “younger brother” in need of constant monitoring but also as the emotional center of the group, a sensitive soul who reveals through tears in the customary letter-reading segment that he just wants his brothers-in-arms to be happy and successful.

It works. More importantly, it sells. Fans scramble to bulk-buy albums and help fund their idols’ biggest dreams. Minsoo cries some more and chokes out in award speeches that none of this would have been possible without their precious Gens.  

For the longest time, Minsoo’s content to play the role. Even when as the years add up, the role wraps tighter and tighter around his frame like a shirt that no longer fits, he’s fine with it. But it’s getting old. The same diamond-in-the-rough sob story loses its impact as Nitro crawls towards slow, yes, but respectable success.

So Minsoo refocuses his image.

He adjusts his actions and reactions from cute-younger-brother to charming-boy-next-door: less throwing pies and more baking pies to bring over to the next door neighbors.

An opportunity for that arrives in the form of a role as a long term host for MBC Music Premier. It there where he balances his bright stage-personality with dependable coordination into subject points and a tasteful back-and-forth dialogue with his co-host.

He painstakingly times the process to be as natural as possible, so that his fans comment on his maturity with appreciation rather than confusion.

But the transition is truly cemented when a stroke of luck lets Minsoo be a hero for a minute and have it get caught on camera. The drama-esque moment of him stopping his co-host’s fall circulates the internet and brushes the last specks of dust from his new image.

He’s never been one to waste opportunity. So Minsoo evolves. And he plans to keep on evolving.  

IDOL HISTORY

Ha Minsoo is not a genius.

His parents are working-class citizens. His dad’s a salaryman and his mom’s a piano teacher. He grew up in a quiet seaside town where the doors and windows were always open and the grandparents all knew each other and the ocean lived right next door. He grew up listening to seagulls and trot music, sounds that seemed to permeate the air like the smell of smoke and seaweed.

Ha Minsoo is not a genius.

It’s just that when his grandma boils mackerel stew and the handheld radio crackles out the same music that’s been playing on repeat in this part of the countryside, Minsoo sings along.

And when the neighbor who came over for lunch mentions that she’s got a friend whose son is a PD in Seoul, that he’s looking for cute little kids who can sing or dance in front of a camera, Minsoo doesn’t recognize the sounds out of her mouth for what they were– the axis of his world shifting just so.

Ha Minsoo is not a genius.

But wrapped in a tuxedo, hair gelled back, and oversized microphone in hand, he becomes the seven year old trot prodigy, paraded around stage and showered with praise and applause. Standing there in the bright lights of the recording studio, he feels the ground beneath his feet start to move.

His parents feel it too.

His dad finally earns his work promotion, and the raise means the Ha family can move out of the country and into an apartment in the city. That’s also when the private lessons start. High off Minsoo’s 15 minutes of fame, they pay for a vocal trainer. It’ll all be worth it, they say, when Minsoo earns himself a lucrative career in the music industry.

The hours of practice only get longer once he starts middle school. While the bell at the end of the day signals all the other students to go to cram classes, Minsoo goes straight to the vocal studio to practice until the sun sets. If he ever held promise as a student, he wasn’t given the chance to find out. On the other hand, the relentless training starts to pay off. He wins community talent festivals, small neighborhood contests, and his instructor switches him permanently to modern music. Little by little, his efforts begin to reap results.

Ha Minsoo is not a genius.

He wrestles for every minuscule amount of improvement. He works twice as hard to close the gaps where natural talent might have filled, easily. He grows from the ground up with only two advantages: an early start and an ingrained understanding to never squander an opportunity.

When a Midas scout approaches him after a competition and hands him a business card, it feels like a sign that he��s on the right track. He sweats through auditions. Flubs the dance portion. Miraculously passes. Signs the contract and finds it curious that satisfaction feels less like a buoyancy and more like a weight settling on his shoulders. He’s not done yet. The real work starts here.

His adolescence passes by in a blur of trainee activities and last minute school obligations. He becomes relatively well-known in his company for his young age, pretty face, and the hours he would spend training into the night.

It’s a little creepy, one of the staff members mutters to another. It’s like he never leaves the building.

Look at his pale skin. / Practically translucent. / Like a ghost. / Does he have any friends?  

He decides to learn how to mask his awkwardness with bravado. His irritation with kindness. He hides behind both like spear and shield. He pieces together how to talk with charisma by observing how the older trainees interact and listening into snatches of conversations.

The most popular point of discussion soon becomes rumors about Midas’ upcoming boy group. How many members? When’s the next evaluation? Who are they looking for?

Competition for the spots is violently fierce. There’s no one in the room who doesn’t want to debut. That’s why they’re here, at Midas Media, clawing and fighting to make it to the top. Minsoo gets so close, so close he can almost taste it. But in the end, he’s not enough (not old enough. not confident enough. not good enough at dancing.) Years of meticulous planning, of calculated sacrifice, of careful control crumble at his feet.

The results devastate him. Minsoo falls, hard, hits rock bottom and coughs up gravel.

He allows himself three panic attacks and two packs of cigarettes in total, (burned down to the filter without taking a drag, of course. He doesn’t need the nicotine, just the smoke that calms him).  

Then he tenses his shoulders, picks himself up, and trains with nothing but cold ambition to drive him forward. It’s the most hollow he’s ever been: propelling himself into an uncertain future with no strategy, no plan b, and no clear goal in sight.

Breakthrough comes in the form of Koala.T Music.  

The timing is perfect, with his Midas contract coming to a close and with little chance of a second boy group to be formed anytime soon. Minsoo switches companies. Koala.T is a new an unfamiliar environment, but it’s alright. He’s done this before. It’s easier to adapt this time around, and he knows now how to mold and shape his personality to be the person they need him to be.

Two more years of sweat drenched practice rooms and finally, finally he debuts.

The happily ever after is sweet but short-lived. As a rookie group, Nitro is faced with challenges almost right after the showcase stage. They now have to compete for the public’s affection with dozens of other idols all vying for the spotlight. The cut-throat competition, the ladder climbing, none of that changes. But while others might hate the pressure, Minsoo enjoys it. He savors every step forward because he believes every inch of progress is the culmination of his efforts.

He doesn’t mind the wait.

2015 seems to be the year where everything rolls into motion. Nitro’s slow and steady rise to popularity breaks into their first music show win. Minsoo even lands a supporting role in a rom-com drama by a screenwriter with a solid track history, an rare opportunity for an idol of his standing with only years of company sponsored acting training under his belt.

While it’s by no means easy, Minsoo finds that he takes to acting faster than choreography. His performance is especially aided by the fact that he’s playing a role similar to the one he already plays as Min from Nitro. Just a few extra tweaks, an adjustment here and there, and it’s essentially a different form of the same familiar mask.

The drama earns respectable ratings and the ground beneath Minsoo’s feet moves once more.

It’s just enough momentum to push forward his acting career, albeit slowly in the form of more supporting roles. But this realization comes at the same time Nitro is just beginning to gain traction, and Koala.T pushes to present the group as a united front of underdogs. A front that would break if one member begins to gain attention disproportionately to the rest, especially in a side job.

They tell him to wait, so Minsoo waits. He promotes diligently with his members and spends the rest of his time polishing his clean image and practicing his acting. He keeps his plans for the future close to his chest.

In 2018 a viral moment gives his public personality an electric boost. That combined with Nitro’s continued steady ascent gives Minsoo the agency to start setting his sights on acting again. He’s cast in an idol-driven drama, this time as a lead, and just glancing at the character description fills him with anticipation.

This year he will set his plans in motion, one by one. The real work starts now.

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON POIZN’S MAIN VOCAL HA MINSOO...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: Min CURRENT AGE: 27 DEBUT AGE: 18 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 13 COMPANY: 99 Ent. ETC: this member has become known for their acting

IDOL IMAGE

in the beginning, he’s a dilemma.

it’s his face, they say. his features are too delicate to make the bad boy concept believable.

so they paint him in eyeliner, spike up his hair, ban him from talking and pass him off as the quiet and mysterious type. the cures give him the moniker ‘mina lisa’, as in all the photos taken of minsoo from 2010-2014, not a single one is found of him smiling with his teeth. his company markets him as something inaccessible, something exclusive. a rare collector’s edition to be framed and hung on a wall when fans reach a high enough level to unlock him. and for a long time, that’s how he stays. stuck and uncomfortable in leather pants and sleeveless shirts.

then, he’s a connection.

99 is experimenting. they manage to surprise him with ‘my type’ in 2015, a concept that trades in swagger for softness and emphasizes the member’s boyish charms. this is where minsoo thrives. clad in blue jeans, plaid tees, and a dimpled smile, he smooths over the abrupt change in poizn’s sound with his honey vocals and his natural boyfriend vibes. when the promotional era passes and poizn returns to their former direction, minsoo doesn’t quite do the same, not when 99 finally found his use.

now, he’s a solution.

he’s a pretty thing for 99 entertainment to push in front of cameras whenever they need to clean up another scandal. he’s the shiny bait meant to distract the public’s eyes with positive media attention and respectable drama ratings. he’s the pure hearted good guy. the swoon worthy male lead. he’s the picture-perfect boyfriend– all eye smiles and back-hugs and model height differences. even before he started acting, even in the beginning he had been an object to be possessed, a beautiful vessel for people to fill with their own ideals and desires. his current career path just happens to make him more accessible than ever. he has become so synonymous with the genre of romantic comedies that his off-screen image has begun to take after his roles. the expectation is to play into their expectations, to continue living in his character’s skin even when the cameras stop rolling. stay charming. stay upright. stay seen. and there’s no room for miss-step, not when the pedestal he’s been placed on is this high.  

IDOL HISTORY

i.

the day that minsoo’s life changes starts with spicy mackerel stew.

but today is not that day. it’s the beginning of the week, and minsoo is busy catching crabs by the seaside. he kicks up sand with his toes and chases those crafty crustaceans down the shoreline, giggling ferociously and waving at his grandma who watches from afar.

it’s not tuesday. his grandpa ran out of cigarettes, so he’s sat minsoo on his tractor to head towards the nearby supply store owned by an old schoolmate of his. minsoo plays with the owner’s cat on the steps of the store, surrounded by the smell of smoke and seaweed, as the two old friends chat and catch up outside.

it’s not wednesday either. that’s the day his parents have a holiday off from work, a demanding office job in the city that takes them away from minsoo and the busan countryside until late in the evening. he likes his grandparents. they sing to him and take him to the beach and sneak him treats when they think the other’s not looking.  but moments with his parents are small but precious, like candy that melts as soon as it hits his tongue. he pretends he doesn’t mind when they say that they’ll be leaving for seoul again on a weekend business trip. it’s alright he smiles. i’m a big boy now.

it’s thursday and a lady from his grandparents’ church is coming over for lunch. when she hugs minsoo, he fights the urge to pinch his nose from the strong whiff of perfume and manicures, a polished sort of smell that seems out of place in his weathered and sun-bleached house. grandma stirs the mackerel stew on the stove with one hand and twists the knobs on the radio with the other. they live in a small seaside town, and the radio station’s setlist, like its residents, is charmingly simple. the same trot song that’s been on repeat that month starts to fill the kitchen with its melody, and minsoo, hands busy with wooden toys, sings along.

“my goodness,” he hears. “my son is a tv producer in seoul, and he’s looking for cute little kids that can sing and dance for his show. i’m going up there tomorrow, so how about i take little minsoo to the audition?”

in excitement, the lady grabs both his hands and stares into his eyes. his toys clatter to the floor. he’s got a face perfectly suited for the camera, she says. like he was made to be on screen.

the broadcast airs the following week, and it’s almost a community affair. friends, family, and neighbors gather around the biggest tv in town and cheer as minsoo appears in full hair and tuxedo. when he finishes singing, the host of the show calls him a trot child prodigy, and the epithet sparks a wildfire response from the people at home. it’s entirely a scripted exaggeration. he doesn’t even hold an interest in music. but the comment must have made a strong impression to his parents’ mind. when his dad finally earns his big promotion and moves his family to seoul, they sign minsoo up for vocal lessons almost immediately.

it’s in this that they make their biggest investment, and minsoo, unused to being poured this much attention from his parents, hold out both hands to receive every drop.

ii.

his schedule only gets longer once he starts middle school. while the bell at the end of the day signals all the other students to go to cram classes, minsoo goes straight to the vocal studio to practice until the windows darken. if he ever held promise as a student, he wasn’t given the chance to find out. on the other hand, the relentless training starts to pay off. he wins community talent festivals, small neighborhood contests, and his instructor switches him permanently to modern music. little by little, his efforts begin to reap results.

but ha minsoo is not a genius.

he wrestles for every minuscule amount of improvement to close the gaps where natural talent could have filled, easily. he grows from the ground up with only two advantages: an early start and a workaholic habit from two workaholic parents. when a midas scout approaches him after a competition and hands him a business card, it feels like a sign that he’s on the right track.

he passes the first round. then the next. even with his stiff dance movements, he’s deemed to have a decent sense of rhythm. you have the right foundation, they say.and a pretty face. anything else can be improved with enough practice.

and so they hand him a contract.

his adolescence passes by in a blur of trainee activities and secondary school obligations. if in busan he was a burst of bright colors, the concrete city had long since muted his saturation with its bleak vastness. instead of community, there are cliques. asphalt instead of sand. and after being bruised for the first few years, minsoo learned how to harden the softest parts of himself. he can’t afford to be without armor. not when there’s trainers to impress and company evaluations to satisfy. but there are still some things that he crumples before. he misses his hometown. he aches for it. it’s been years since he’s been lulled to sleep by the sound of the ocean, but there are still nights where he bolts awake, muscles tense, to the honk of car horns and the wail of police sirens that cut through the city. during the day he distracts himself with training, but at night, lying in the dark, there’s nowhere to run from his mind. what if he stops? what if he goes back? what if he throws away all the money his parents poured to get him to where he is now and takes the next bus to busan?

these are secret thoughts. by morning, minsoo packs them into boxes and locks them underground.

iii.

change comes in the form of a new company. 99 entertainment is a fresh start, and he accepts the opportunity with open hands. if in midas he was a shadow stuck to the wall, here he would begin to take form. he studies the other trainees’ behavior and learns how to be more at ease with those that he shares a dorm and a practice room with. at first it’s awkward, unnatural. he not only lacks the innate ability for outward congeniality, but years of disuse has made him rusty. he improves by degrees, and at some point, an image founded on hallway gossip starts to form around him: the pretty vocalist, the princely type, the sensitive soul with the dark past. the bolder ones even gave him a tragic backstory, like he was a character from their dramas that they could pine after in real life. where his silence used to be interpreted as standoffishness, it now became a sign of his elegance.

it’s here that he understands the power of perception. that his image is his second body, but one that isn’t his own– a presence to be in the room when he isn’t. he spends the rest of his trainee years honing his vocals, dance, and performance, of course, but also cultivating his persona. he trims the edges to fit him more comfortably and learns how to read the script that’s expected of him. it’s surprisingly simple, guessing what people want to hear. once he figured out where to look, he found that most people have their expectations written on their faces, like cue cards. it becomes a habit for him, a reflex. he gives them what they want, and they don’t ask for more. he finds it works just fine.

iv.

first there are whispers: 99 is debuting a boy group.

and then there are evaluations: twice as often and twice as strenuous.

and finally there’s the lineup: a shiny jumble of 99’s best, one with a spot reserved for min, poizn’s main vocal.  

at the start, they struggle to pin a concept for him. he doesn’t quite fit the rebellious bad boy vibe they’re aiming for with poizn’s debut, not in the effortless way his members seem to take to it. so they teach him how to smirk, not smile. how to run his fingers through his hair and how to look natural in a leather jacket. it’s still not quite as convincing as they would’ve hoped, but it’s fine, they dismiss. he’s just the vocalist. he sets the stage with a soaring high note to signal the climax of the song and then retreats to the back for the main event, the rap line.

they find a better use for him when poizn starts to fall out of the public’s favor, scandal after scandal. they earn a nasty reputation of attitude controversies that prove they’re more than just a concept and so starts a ripple effect of 99 using whatever’s at their disposal to scrub it clean. including minsoo’s limited foray into acting.

they extend their influence to open doors for him, doors that would normally stay closed for his skill set. his first few roles are a train wreck of rookie acting, and it’s met with a merciless onslaught of scathing internet response at the transparency of 99’s media play. however, it’s a criticism that dies down with the buffer of time and exposure, and when he lands a spot in one of the biggest successes in cable broadcast history, minsoo gets launched into a different type of fame, one not tainted by notoriety.

suddenly, he has fans who have never heard of poizn. the drama changes the trajectory of his whole career. he establishes a name for himself in romantic comedies, a fortuitous combination of a charming and harmless public image that 99 couldn’t have planned better themselves. he becomes the perfect boyfriend, a glossy magazine cut-out that girls paste in notebook collages and sigh over on tv screens. he represents an ideal. one that doesn’t end when the cameras stop rolling, but continues in his real life interactions with producers, script writers, staff members– it’s the first rule of thumb about performing on stage: there’s always someone watching.  

as his audience grows, so do the expectations. once upon a time they were easy to meet. now, he suffocates