Kissing Deceit Goodbye

The agency tried robbing her of her dues. Now, LOONA's Chuu isn't letting them run her ragged.

Photo: Hwang Hye-Jung/Marie Claire Korea

Note: This article was written for a university class assignment. I did not conduct an interview with LOONA's Chuu. All quotes from Chuu are real and from various sources that I have hyperlinked in this article.

Chuu has love embedded in every part of her being — even her name. The idol’s stage name, made by saying her birth name super fast, also translates to the Korean onomatopoeia for a kissy sound. We’re seated outside in an alleyway cafe that she’s chosen for us, milk teas in hand — and with her right across from me, hair curled in pigtails similar to those in her debut music video and smile so bright it’s contagious, I can affirm that this stage name is accurately assigned.

But veiled by this endearing moniker is a Kim Jiwoo waiting to boil over. After years of dealing with unethical labor conditions behind-the-scenes, Kim is finally setting her foot down after finding out her former employer, BlockBerryCreative, was mishandling her salary.

“[In 2021] one of the LOONA members asked me, ‘Isn’t it time for you to get your calculated pay?’ It was then that I realized that there was a problem,” she tells me. “My trust in the company pretty much ended last year.”

Fans began to stir last spring as news leaked that Kim filed a lawsuit against BlockBerryCreative to suspend her unfair contract. Her contract split profits 70-30 between the company and herself but split expenses 50-50, leaving her to pay for many schedules out of pocket. “I calculated it myself. If expenses exceeded 70 percent of the sales, then the final calculation left me in debt. The more I worked, the more this debt grew.”

To make things worse, even this unethical contract went unhonored by the company. “The contract definitely said it was a 7-to-3 split, but sometimes it became 9-to-1, or even 10-to-0,” Kim says, fiddling with her straw. “I was late, but I wanted to put a stop to it as fast as possible.”

Those familiar with Kim’s exuberant demeanor may have been shocked at her firm stance against the agency — and even more surprised at the agency’s allegations toward her about violating her contract and abusing staff. As BlockBerryCreative continues to defame Kim, even attempting to ban her from all Korean entertainment activities, she continues to stand her ground against them.

“It’s hard for me to put up with the fact that even the [LOONA] members are tied up with the lies,” she says, thinking of her closest friends even in this tough moment, “so I’ll organize my side of things and respond soon.”

Photo: Shin Sun-hye/ELLE Korea

Despite the company’s attempts to efface Kim of her kind image, the allegations have simply been allegations. Even before taking on her role as happy-go-lucky Chuu, Kim had always been the ripest of the bunch. “You might be shocked, but Kim Jiwoo is brighter than Chuu,” she says, a smile cracking open on her face. “I have quite the deep history of brightness that I’ve built since I was young.”

Before she was Chuu, Kim grew up in Cheongju, South Korea, with a classically-trained vocalist for a mother and an endlessly supportive father. Though her mother was initially skeptical about letting her pursue music, her father encouraged her from the get-go to chase after her dreams.

“When I was little, I ran a winter marathon with my family,” she recounts as a fond memory from before her idol life. We both pause to sip our drinks, Kim looking wistfully out into the street. “It was before my brothers were born. Tied my bangs, wore ski pants with suspenders, and ran a course covered with white snow with my dad.”

Armed with her parents’ support, Kim left Cheongju and ran full-speed to Seoul to attend Hanlim Arts High School. Her charming chemistry with everyone in the idol industry blossomed even before she entered the scene, starting with former LOONA member Kim Lip, who attended the school with her before they both became trainees. “I was very jealous [back then] because I liked [Kim Lip] a lot,” Kim says, laughing wholeheartedly at the memory. “I was very greedy of her. She went to [after-school tutoring] with another friend, and I didn’t go to that at the time, so I was so envious of the friend.”

After becoming a trainee at BlockBerryCreative, Kim debuted in December 2017 with her solo track “Heart Attack” before debuting with all of LOONA in August 2018. Even in that nascent state of her dream career, she had to bear inconceivable lows.

“[In] the beginning of my debut period, I wasn’t even allowed [by the company] to go outside that much — around 20 minutes?” she recalls. “We couldn’t go outside for more than an hour. I wanted to go out so badly, I was so restless. Back then, I felt that if I didn’t go outside, I would…” She trails off, staring down at the plate of macarons she ordered before mustering a small laugh. “Yeah. It was really hard.”

Under strict labor conditions, even the most passionate individuals reach a point where they have to feign happiness to get by. For Kim, upholding her upbeat persona was the easiest way to maintain her peace of mind. “I’m always trying to solve things swiftly and keep moving forward,” she says. “I’ve been lucky enough to be recognized and receive all this love from people, so I have this desire to maintain my image. I don’t want to go backward in progress.” She hugs her plate a little, nearly empty save for a few crumbs dotting the middle. “Even if I didn’t sleep for a week, I’d say, it’s okay! I can do it!”

It’s clear to her now that things weren’t okay, that she couldn’t do it any longer. And she’s made it clear to other idols, too. Kim’s firm legal stand since 2021 has inspired fellow LOONA members to follow in her footsteps. As of early February, all members have filed against the agency, and four excluding Kim have won their respective lawsuits and terminated their contracts.

As egregious treatment toward idols by their agencies continues to get brought to light — take OMEGA X’s recent lawsuit, which followed soon after Kim’s reached the public eye — it’s ever so clear that this industry is not all sunshine and rainbows as advertised. Kim’s diligence has made her a prominent face of this current fight. It’s a necessary reminder that these idols, no matter how curated they are for the public eye, are just as multi-faceted and deserving of basic respect as the rest of us.

And still, Kim remains humble through all of her mistreatment, too empathetic for her own good. “I thought that I had to speak firmly for them to listen to me… so there were also times where I spoke with a strong tone,” she notes regrettably about her final interactions with members of the agency. “I’m also human, so I made a mistake.”

Photo: The Star Magazine/Twitter

Now, she’s taking her old contract ratio and making it work for her mental health. “I’m in the process of becoming more honest with my emotions. Nowadays, I can say that the ratio of happiness to sadness is about 70-to-30,” she says. “I’ve been taking time to examine my inner self. Just because I’m a bright person doesn’t mean that I don’t feel sadness, depression, or anger.”

Though her chapter with BlockBerryCreative is coming to a close, her career as an artist is far from over. Currently working as a soloist, Kim appeared in a special performance with other K-girl-group members for MBC’s 2022 Gayo Daejejeon. This dream is still worth pursuing, despite all the hurdles she’s had to jump over. “My mother loved singing, but she gave up [that dream] because of me,” Kim laments. “So I’m working harder to sing for the both of us.”

Outside of her singing activities, Kim has also appeared on several variety shows, including the mid-pandemic release “Running Girls,” her Youtube channel series “Chuu Can Do It!” and most recently as a host for the reality dating show “Love Alarm: Clap! Clap! Clap!”

I ask her about “Running Girls,” a show where instead of being a host, she acts as a participant, taking part in a challenge to run along Korea’s many outdoor paths. “While working with LOONA, I realized I didn’t have many older, experienced colleagues to turn to when I had worries. I wanted to meet people like that, and this show blessed me with that experience of forming another found family,” she says. “While running with [them], I realized running is related to life and routine, to identity. It was also great to run through an unfamiliar land, rather than where I always run.”

It’s a breath of fresh air, to know she’s rediscovered that precious connection to life — to hear her discuss breaking new ground after years of being puppeteered away from true autonomy. I thank her for her time, our glasses now empty save for millimeter-deep menisci of melting ice water. She shakes my hand and even does her signature Chuu heart to me before leaving, bounding off out of the alley into the wider chaotic landscape of the city.