Day One of the Contest: Evaluations Draw to a Close
The first day of the Supreme Beat Contest was winding down as evaluations came to an end and the sun began to set. The passed teams were gradually moving into the dorms, and I was among the crowd following them.
I wanted to catch up with Black Label and swap stories we hadn't gotten to yet, but the production team had strictly separated the men's and women's dorms to prevent any mishaps, and they even imposed restrictions on activity hours. As an individual composer rather than a team member, I'd been assigned solo lodging. Luckily, since the numbers ended up odd, I scored a single room. Thanks to that, I was now lying alone on the bed, lost in thought.
Preliminaries, Round 1. The judges had given me an A grade. I had no idea how many composers and players out of all the applicants had been cut, but A was definitely rare.
It'll carry a lot of weight.
Given the huge variance in skill among those who'd shown their stuff, Jo Young-soo PD would surely unleash his devilish editing skills. Up until now, Black Label had been building a perfectly paced narrative arc.
As far as I remembered, Round 2 would continue with absolute evaluations. Round 3 would be about composers and players finding some synergy. True to the name Supreme Beat Contest, starting from Round 3, it would shift to full-on tournament-style relative evaluations.
That's when luck starts mattering.
The bracket would hold enough sway to make or break the show's fate. Depending on the matchups, some players would get their shine while others faded into the background.
Hmm...
I wondered what position Black Label would carve out in that food chain.
I picked up the pillow I'd been hugging and flopped back onto the bed.
Agh, whatever.
After a day of relentless Spartan marching, fatigue was crashing over me. No point racking my brain now—I couldn't pin anything down anyway.
Just roll with whatever comes.
I'll adapt to the situation. To cool my throbbing head, I logged into an online community for hardcore idol fans, and sure enough, the chatter was already buzzing.
But who are these people? None other than Korea's online users, who do the exact opposite of what they're told. On this anonymous foreign-server community, they started spilling post-event fan stories for their faves.
I scrolled slowly through the steadily accumulating posts. Was this a relief? No posts about Black Label yet. Makes sense—only two fans caught their stage live. One did post something, but it just racked views, no comments.
No replies followed. The post got buried thoroughly—that was the reaction both Jo Young-soo and I wanted. With eyes on Flex and Candice, Black Label needed to stay hidden. Twists hit harder from the shadows.
After checking the community buzz, I pulled the covers over and crashed.
I want to sleep. Yeon Mi-yeon glanced sideways. Her energy drink was long empty.
I'm dying. For real.
Too lazy to go buy more. Thought about sending the maknae FD, but her phone showed 3 a.m.
That kid's probably out cold too.
Creak.
"That 'kid' ain't me, right?"
Jo Young-soo pushed open the door and squeezed into the cramped space.
"Oh, you're here, sunbae?"
"Your sky-like sunbae graces you, and no welcome?"
"Too late for welcomes, isn't it? Everyone's asleep."
"Then why're you up?"
Yeon Mi-yeon rubbed her hollowed eyes and nodded at the monitor.
"What else? Editing."
"Whoa, Yeon Mi-yeon. What's this? Doing unassigned work already."
"I... I'm serious this time. No falling behind, on schedule. Last time, that travel show... Thought I'd die..."
Jo Young-soo pulled up a folding chair and sat, leaning in.
"When has our work ever gone to plan? It all explodes anyway. Look at this—bet some controversial idol blows up."
"Sunbae! Come on! As the main PD, saying ominous crap like that?"
Rubbing his even darker circles, Jo Young-soo shot back.
"Ever think I've transcended that? Build 'em up, DUI hits. Hype 'em, dating rumors explode."
Sudden venting session—Jo Young-soo flailed his arms, grumbling.
"Not saying don't let 'em blow up. Just after our show ends. Damn journo scum ruin everything. Beg 'em, but traffic's king."
"That's why dorm life this time."
"Dorms don't stop the ones who'll blow."
"Who's your fave, main PD-nim?"
In answer, Jo Young-soo turned his hollow eyes to the monitor. Flex edit nearly done.
"Haven't seen it yet?"
"Huh?"
Black Label performed way after Flex. He wheeled past the speed-up idols, zeroed in on the file list, and fired up their stage.
"You haven't seen these kids' performance, right?"
"Uh... yeah. Was watching the other idols."
Jo Young-soo stood.
"Check it out. They'll blow your mind."
Folding his chair, he headed for the door.
"You're leaving?"
"Two in this shoebox? Better solo for focus."
Before exiting, he pulled something from his bulging pocket. Shook the empty cans by the monitor, sighed.
Knew it. Ease up on these.
"You know I can't work nights without 'em. Then don't assign night work!"
Kek.
Blindsided by facts, Jo Young-soo bolted. Pausing at the door, he remembered.
"Oh! That stage vid."
"Yes?"
"Fancams need minimal edits. Watch and drop one for a group you like."
"Me? Just any group I fancy?"
"Yeah. All clickbait anyway."
He emphasized Black Label on the screen one last time.
"Including these."
"Got it."
Door shut. Yeon Mi-yeon cracked the energy drink.
How great can they be?
Cooled her parched throat with fizzy relief, hit play on Black Label. As the stage unfolded, she got it. Prime aggro bait—no rivals.
Said upload a fave, huh?
She cracked her knuckles, stretched her neck.
Time to shine.
Pop.
Cracked the PD's gift, dove into editing with glee. Barely editing, really. Stage footage—no subs needed, camera director nailed the shots. Tweak framing if shaky, refocus if off—done. Greeting dawn, she uploaded with hype.
This'll make the show explode.