Chapter 48

At the unexpected sob, Taeil's eyes went round.

"Trainee Kang Hajin? Are you alright?"

"Ha… sorry. Just a moment."

Hajin — in that instant putting on the full act of a heavy-shouldered young-breadwinner leader who'd fought back tears with everything he had, only for the bottled-up feeling to finally break through — turned his head as if wiping his eyes and read the room.

"Ah, hyuuung…"

"Hajin-ah…"

The ones most flustered by the cold-hearted leader's sudden tears were the Team B trainees who'd been practicing with him. Right now, they were the ones most shocked and thrown by Hajin's tears — and at the same time, the ones who knew better than anyone what he must have gone through over the past three days.

"Ah…. Looks like it's been really hard on you, huh."

Seo Taeil, playing along like he understood, tossed out a line to steady the mood. Hajin dabbed at his eyes with a sleeve for effect and sniffled once.

And I saw it. Over at the production monitors, pointing my way and talking in a hurry — Voluntary-Resignation.

The virtue of Episode 1, as PD Kwon had always drilled into me:

—Episode 1, you rake in every last thing that could make buzz. The hot one, the crying one, the pissed one, the meltdown one, the crushing-it one.

What? Take the chance? Yeah, thanks so much, you son of a bitch.

'I'll make Episode 1 a Kang Hajin one-man show.'

Now that it's come to this, I was taking the early stretch all for myself. Nothing I could do about 'hot,' so I'd deliver angry, meltdown, and crushing-it instead. For the record, meltdown just wrapped.

—Get your heads right or the formations are wrecked! Get your live vocals in line!

…Cameras, whatever — I hadn't had a spare second to think about any of it. Just know that.

"Ahem — ah, sorry."

After a beat reading the room, I let out a short breath, hoo — as if I'd more or less pulled myself back together. Anything more and it'd be overkill.

I could feel, without looking, that every bit of the studio's attention was locked on me. I picked up the mic, and in a slightly choked voice, kept it as steady as I could as I spoke.

"Honestly, I felt genuinely lost. I was the last one to join here, after all… and I was worrying a lot about whether I could pull it off as leader."

At the tremor in my voice, the guys around me patted my back.

"Right now, I'm not worrying about anything else — I'll focus on showing you our own sun."

"Yes, understood. Team B — who also gave us a very, very impressive showing at the midpoint check — I'll be looking forward to today's stage."

With Seo Taeil's expert hosting, my turn passed. He tossed two more questions at Team A's side, then handed off at the right moment.

"Alright, now let me introduce the five mentors who'll be evaluating your stages today."

Behind Seo Taeil, pop — the lights came on. He introduced them one by one from the left. For all that, they were just the trainers we saw every day — nothing special. Except for one.

"Undisputed top solo artist in Korea, of the group Themis — Ria!"

'I figured they'd just pad Episode 1 with Miro's own.'

Ria coming as a special mentor was a bit of a surprise. If anyone was coming, I'd figured it'd be the Enderway guys. Either way, the higher the tier and the more varied the guests, the better. You pull in viewers by yanking wide aggro across the whole idol scene — wait, ___'s on this? — instead of just fishing for Miro fans.

Of course, for me to reap any of that benefit, I'd have to shred today's stage.

"Miro Maze first mission, Daylight! Beginning now!"

Well, I'd just have to put my life on it.

I clapped hard. My palms turned bright red.

---

Team B was on second.

"We'll go first."

Because Jung Siwoo, using Wings-class privilege, had picked to go first.

'Filthy class society.'

Pretty antisocial mindset for someone planning to climb to the top of that class ladder — but whatever. We moved to the seats set up off to one side to watch the stage.

Team A, dressed in a matched white-and-denim dress code blatantly going for the fresh, crisp look, took their spots in formation. The lighting shifted, and the intro of a song we could sing in our sleep began.

'They're really good, no question.'

Group choreography without a stumble, expression with sharp dynamic control. A pair choreography that showed no weak points unfolded. At center, Kim Wonho and Lee Yugeon paired up and were basically dismantling the stage.

'Whose handiwork is that vicious pair, now?'

I'd told him to get along if he could — and now he'd genuinely partnered up with the guy, the two of them grinning wide as they synced up. Watching Kim Wonho and Lee Yugeon, I let out a sigh without meaning to. Right around when I was thinking, they do know this is a survival, right?, Han Seongwoo at center finally launched into the first line.

Hi? It's me.

Han Seongwoo waved to the mentors watching him, like a hello. Wearing a mischievous smile and playing up a rascal expression, he actually looked pretty natural doing it.

'So that's what the snapback was for, huh?'

With the battle coming up, cameras were obviously going to cut to me every time Han Seongwoo's part hit — so I made sure to keep my face in check while I watched Team A's stage.

Honestly, Han Seongwoo's stage delivery wasn't bad. If anything, had he been on Team B, our stage might've come back with 'he carried it' written all over the reviews. Only—

Moonlight filling the sky

Pouring Starry Night

When the whole journey ends

At last we'll face our Highlight

'—there were just too many other guys who were good.'

Not a verse, not a chorus — just the pre-chorus threading between them, and there was Seo Taehyun, obliterating it in falsetto. True to his ex-Cherry Boy rep, he had both eyes packed full of stars. The second his eyes met yours, a wistful backstory between the two of you that even you didn't know existed would unfold in full — no problem.

Dressed straight in white, the visuals' pristine appeal maxed out. When Lee Doha's heavy, low voice and Ju Eunchan's rap — his weapon being that fast-tempo rhythm — traded off ping-pong, I actually had to applaud.

With even the parts that weren't the so-called 'killing part' getting dismantled like this, Han Seongwoo — delivering average, unexpectedly — looked ordinary by comparison.

'And a rascal read on top of that? Way off-base.'

Everyone else was pulling wistful, aching expressions at the level of reincarnated lovers reunited after a thousand years apart — playing cute-mischievous solo in the middle of that only earned you did-that-guy-not-get-the-concept comments.

Daylight, along that path

The dance break, built around Team A's dance line, rolled on. That Kim Wonho, whining about not having any parts, had confidently claimed one of the three points at the dance break's center. Given that more than half of the guys up there were ex-special-class, it was a pretty radical step up.

'Yeah…. Those two really do have different styles.'

Kim Wonho's strength was precise, clean movement built on solid core power; Lee Yugeon's signature was using his long limbs, fluidly modulating dynamics as expression. If you asked which was better, there was no right answer, but—

'A song like this suits Lee Yugeon more.'

That was why I'd told Kim Wonho to pick Lee Yugeon, and why I'd told him not to build a hostile relationship with him at any cost. This battle — Lee Yugeon was winning, guaranteed.

'But for him, winning is only break-even. Kim Wonho's different.'

For Kim Wonho — who up to the last month-end had been in general class, mid-to-lower ranks at that, and barely getting attention — just being positioned as Lee Yugeon's rival was already a huge win. Especially with the look of him nipping right at Yugeon's heels like that — no need to say more.

'Enough. My own hands are full right now — who am I worrying about.'

While I was running through pointless thoughts, the song finally reached its end. Han Seongwoo, back at center, closed and opened his eyes wistfully as he delivered the last line.

Hi? It's me.

Finally — so glad to meet you.

Still, maybe having picked up that something was off toward the end, Han Seongwoo also shifted the concept on the home stretch and closed it out with a slightly tender feel.

"Yes, great work."

"…Holy shit, Seo Taehyun's insane."

"Siwoo-hyung really sings well. That hyung's straight-up broken."

"What are we gonna do, seriously. Ugh. Rapping right after Doha-hyung is a bit much."

"Kim Wonho — has he always been that good? Looked almost Lee Yugeon-tier."

"Eh, but Lee Yugeon's still better, honestly."

Still, the main character of this stage was already not Han Seongwoo.

For now, that was enough.

---

"Next — Team B, please get ready."

"Wow, they're all really good. Rene should be nervous, huh?"

Ria, who'd been unable to stop being impressed the whole time she'd watched Team A's stage, finally couldn't hold it in and muttered to herself, unreservedly jotting her impressions on the evaluation sheet. Told you they were good, didn't I? At Seo Taeil's smug delivery, she couldn't push back, even in jest.

"The first team's too strong. Second team's gonna be feeling the pressure."

"That's because there are a lot of Wings-class kids on it. Most were top-tier at the month-end. But Team B's good too."

"Ah, glad I debuted way back. Don't have to compete with kids like these."

Thinking that would 100% make it onto air, Ria threw the line out, then went back to flipping through the evaluation sheets — and her eyes settled on Hajin's, which she'd starred earlier.

"That was him, right? The guy from earlier."

"Yeah. Not sure how it'll go. His parts suddenly ballooned… if he can't handle them properly, the risk's way too high."

Taeil watched Hajin, setting his positions, with worried eyes. Soon, everything must have been set — the AD who'd been reading the floor and marking center soon disappeared backstage. Then the prompter's cue for the lead line lit up. This time, the lead line went to Ria.

"Yes. Before we watch the stage, I should probably ask a few questions, right? Trainee Kang Hajin?"

"Yes."

Hajin took the handheld mic and looked at Ria. They'd said he was twenty, but his bearing had the composure and confidence of someone closer to thirty.

Ria thought for a moment. The question written on the prompter was 'What's the point of interest for today's stage?' but—

"I heard you sang one of my songs at your audition."

"……? Yes? Ah… yes. That's right."

"Could you do a short bit — which song was it?"

Ria, mischief kicking in, threw out a huge chunk of bait that wasn't in the script. The writers apparently hadn't seen this coming either — you could see them flustered, hurriedly wiping and rewriting on the prompter. Taeil tapped Ria with a what-are-you-doing look, but there was no stopping Ria now that her curiosity about Hajin had fully engaged.

"Come on, meeting like this is fate — shouldn't you sing it at least once in front of the original artist?"

Sing it, sing it! Thanks to Ria smoothly steering the room, the mood shifted in an instant. Hajin looked around and let out a hehh, a dry laugh.

'Well, for me — huge win.'

They'll ask about it in the interview for sure. Another preview clip streamed through my head.

〈One of the trainees here auditioned with a Ria song? (Hajin's Rene audition footage) What's it feel like, being evaluated in front of the very person who set your dream in motion?〉

'Man — a whole narrative churned out on the spot.'

I'd also been sick of watching the guys' spirit crumble after seeing Team A's stage. Might as well flip the mood — Hajin hopped onto the mat that had been laid out for him without hesitating.

"Then I'll do a short bit."

The stage went quiet in an instant. Hajin, freshly struck by how strange and awkward it felt to have everyone listening to him sing, calmly opened his mouth.

I could never forget you

An unerasable trace

like a scar, my whole life

'Ah, damn — set that too high.'

Been a while since I'd sung it, apparently — I'd pinned the first note way too high, no plan behind it. The rest didn't hit that high, so it didn't actually matter, but Hajin poured everything into avoiding a pitch break.

And doing that — for a moment, he blanked.

'Next lyric… happiness, or love?'

He'd sung this song so much that his mouth opened on autopilot — but the next lyric wouldn't come to him for the life of him. Wasn't it happiness in verse one and love in verse two, or something like that?

All those shattered fragments of time

While he was still puzzling it out, the song reached that part. Wow, which one was it? Hajin, stuck between the two, unable to pick either, just went with whatever came out.

Haaa— hoppness...

...could I ever say it, could it ever be

that I would dare—

Finishing the song on some garbled mumble that could've passed for happiness, hoppiness, hamburgers, or hopscotch, Hajin brought his hand up and covered his forehead right there.

"Fuck, I'm screwed."

"Ahaha, the lyric there's a little tricky, isn't it?"

Is there such a thing as a total idiot who screws up the lyrics of a song right in front of the original artist? Yes — that would be me. Hahaha.