Less than six months after their monster debut, no rookie group is transforming K-pop like CORTIS. Their fame is a new reality for the group’s young members.

JUST DAYS BEFORE CORTIS’ debut showcase, the members stepped outside of the Hybe office in Seoul to see a multi-foot sign with their faces plastered on it. As the members gawked at the sign, Juhoon, who was seventeen at the time and a former child model, stood silently, his eyes fixed on himself, ten feet tall.

Juhoon’s reaction is a pivotal moment in the documentary uploaded to CORTIS’ YouTube channel titled time to debut. Juhoon’s role in CORTIS is the nonchalant member. He says very little and reacts to most things with a chill, unbothered demeanor. But Hybe executives and their own members assert that he’s incredibly smart. He learns quickly, and, having spent most of his life working, he is driven to succeed. As other members yell and excitedly take pictures of the marketing photos, Juhoon’s eyes well up, and he begins to cry. “Why are you crying?” Seonghyeon asks as he hugs him. Eventually, when it’s clear that Juhoon is fine, they laugh as he poses for pictures, his eyes still teary. “I didn’t think he’d actually cry,” Keonho, the maknae, says later with some amusement.

A few weeks later, on The Zach Sang Show, Juhoon is questioned about this moment. “It wasn’t easy to follow these guys,” he said. “Because when I joined the team, these guys were so good. I didn’t know how to dance or sing. I didn’t know anything. I just loved music, and it was kind of a hard time to follow up to these guys’ level.”

Of course, CORITS knew they would be huge. They are Big Hit’s third boy group, following in the footsteps of the company’s first two groups, BTS and TOMORROW X TOGETHER. But I would wager that CORTIS is most in line with BTS’s scale of popularity. They have broken records since their debut. In just three months, they’ve sold over a million records. Special editions of their album, including a plushie version and a vinyl version, sell out nearly as fast as they are stocked. On the resale market, pre-order benefit (POB) photocards of the members can go for as much as $50.

Like their seniors, CORTIS is also upending what it means to be a K-pop idol. Their videos are decidedly relaxed and stylish. They lean heavily on hip-hop. They write their own lyrics, produce their own music, and are involved in every step of the music production process.

But what comes through most when I watch time to debut isn’t Juhoon’s aloofness; it is that he is a child about to debut. And, like any child about to experience a life-changing event, he is overwhelmed by emotions he can’t quite process.

WHEN THEY DEBUTED IN AUGUST 2025, all but one CORTIS member was a minor. K-pop companies regularly debut minors, a process that dates back as far as BoA’s debut in 2000, when she was fourteen years old. Lee Sooman, the CEO of SM Entertainment, once said that debuting BoA so young was strategic. By the time she was sixteen, she would hopefully be a superstar. (And for all intents and purposes, he was correct.)

Because CORTIS is a group of teenagers, with the exception of James, who is twenty, there is a clear authenticity to their image as relatable, slightly awkward teenage boys. In another memorable scene from time to debut, the members practice repeatedly to introduce themselves and bow in sync. In most K-pop groups, there is a military precision to how members introduce themselves. But no matter how often they try, they cannot get the timing right. Later on stage at the media showcase event, their bows are entirely off. But this inability to be meticulous with details, we begin to learn, is the charm of CORTIS. They are not meant to be perfect idols; they are meant to be versions of themselves that speak to other teenagers who are still figuring themselves out.

Like many K-pop groups, CORTIS’ members underwent extensive training. But as the group took shape, their training became looser. I notice while watching these early clips of CORTIS that not only are they incredibly young, but they also look quite wholesome. Martin, arguably the group’s star member, looks like a normal teenage boy in colorful t-shirts and flat, straight hair.

In recording sessions, they learned to nail their vocal delivery and rap cadence from American producers and even Juicy J, a rapper from Memphis, Tennessee who was in the legendary group Three-6 Mafia. “You were going straight through that [verse], and I was like, ‘Oh shit,’” Juicy J marvels at Martin in one scene from the group’s WHAT WE WANT documentary. Most importantly, it seems, these recording sessions taught CORTIS members how to have swagger.

By the time the group performed at MAMA in December, they were setting the bar for other groups to follow. For that performance, Martin sat alone on stage, mixing beats that eventually flowed into the opening of “GO!”. The members were joined by no background dances throughout the performance and had very little official choreography. Instead, they played off crowd hype and vibes. This was a brilliant moment engineered by Big Hit that showed how CORTIS is not an industry puppet.

It was also a direct warning shot to the industry: K-pop is changing, and if companies want to succeed, they will have to innovate with new groups like CORTIS.

CORTIS before their first variety show; *time to debut.*

I KEEP COMING BACK to the members’ ages because I wonder if they can process what they are experiencing. They are so young, so inexperienced with life, and now, they are superstars. In the span of a year, members like Keonho and Seonghyeon went from winning medals at school to major awards at end-of-year shows. While Martin and Juhoon cut their teeth writing music for TOMORROW X TOGETHER and ILLIT, now they are shaping the next generation of K-pop idols. And James, the eldest, is the only member who is not Korean. He gave up the most to come here; he didn’t even speak Korean when he arrived.

Being famous is a reality that most of us will not understand. Since they’ve become superstars, I’ve seen disturbing videos of the members being swarmed and pushed at airports. I’ve watched Martin do fan calls with fans much older than him and wondered, “Is he bothered by the fact that women twice his age want to talk to him?” While the executives at Big Hit are portrayed as empathetic characters in the group’s content, I’ve hoped that the boys have someone older than them they can turn to when fame becomes too much.

One of my favorite tracks on the group’s debut EP is “JoyRide”. Heading into the chorus, the boys capture the euphoria of a late-night drive with your best friends as your favorite songs blast through the stereo. But I’m struck by the possibility that this is something CORTIS’ members can’t do anymore. They’re too famous now. They work too much. And they are giving up their youth to create memories for their fans.

In another vlog episode titled go home, the members get a day off to visit their families. In one scene, Keonho’s umma feeds him dinner as they reminisce about his time as a competitive swimmer. His appa says that those were his favorite days when he would take Keonho to practice early in the mornings.

“I pushed you into the real world too early,” his umma admits at one point. Keonho stares back at her, confused.

“Ah, I’m going to cry again,” she says before giving her sixteen-year-old son some advice. “You just listen to your umma.”

Keonho laughs awkwardly. Right now, he doesn’t understand what she means or why she’s so emotional.

But one day he will.

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