Not Manipulation? Did I Mix Up the Rounds?
Was it not rigged? Had I gotten the rounds mixed up? No. Opaz boarding the express train to hell with their over-the-top concept was definitely the round of 32 in round 2. They were gone starting from the round of 16. This wasn't the future I knew. An unexpected variable had cropped up. An opponent no one saw coming.
There was no time to dig into why this happened. I had to revise the plan to fit the variable. Won Ji-min, too, had run into an opponent she never anticipated, and she descended the stage with an awkward smile.
Mega Crunch. A duo that sang sweet ballads despite their tough-sounding name. They were a beacon of real talent in an idol-dominated music scene, and their niche pie meant they had a solid fandom. This wouldn't be easy.
They'd prepped a soft stage expecting the audience to crave it after Opaz's provocative one. I turned toward Mega Crunch—they looked invigorated, grinning ear to ear, clearly thinking they'd drawn an easy mark. X-bait here, X-bait there. Talk about a punching bag.
I glanced back at the kids. Reactions were split. Some members betrayed their inner confidence that they could pull it off, while others eyed the matchup warily—"A stage with a similar vibe... isn't that kinda tough?"
Yeah. Wary. Even I had to admit, if asked point-blank whether we could beat Mega Crunch, it'd be tough. Not easy at all. It wasn't just an incomparable fandom issue—their skill level was hard to gauge. Black Label's odds of advancing to the round of 16? Hell, Opaz might have better chances.
"You gotta see it to know if it's long or short"? Nah, the short ones already know. They just don't show it. Even knowing the future perfectly, variables like this exist. I didn't want to shoulder the risk of taking on Mega Crunch as a "winnable" foe. Black Label aside, the stage was tailored for Opaz from the start. No time to tweak it now. No matter how I sliced it, you can't butcher a cow with a chicken knife.
As I wrestled with this unsolvable puzzle, Joo Seong-hwan wrapped up the matchup draw.
"Alright! ChiChi Girls have picked Park Jung-shin! That means the last spot, HitPodo's opponent, automatically goes to Opaz!"
The completed bracket popped up on the screen for easy viewing. Powerhouses like Mega Crunch and Giggle Band weren't in the round of 32—they were eyeing the round of 16 already. In the round of 32 bracket, Mega Crunch and Giggle Band faced off, and the screen highlighted the title contenders' staredown.
"Aaaand—!" Joo Seong-hwan dragged it out. One more shoe to drop. He amped up the tension like something big was coming, drawing curiosity from the players.
"If it ended like this, it wouldn't be Supreme Beat! That'd be boring, right? What do you say? How about I give you all a special surprise gift?"
Boring? I was one step from shitting my pants. Joo Seong-hwan was about to reveal Giggle Band's hidden card, huh.
"Ah! Well, more precisely—the gift from round 1 top-scorers, #1 Giggle Band!"
Joo Seong-hwan turned to Giggle Band's leader, Choi Chang. Cameras, lights, every player and composer swiveled to him. Having already gotten the okay, Choi Chang climbed the stage, and Joo Seong-hwan hyped the mood.
"It's the Matchup Change Ticket!"
Yeah, the matchup change ticket...? Wait. Matchup Change Ticket.
"Giggle Band earned the right from the production team as round 1 winners to swap their opponent. Now that the round of 32 bracket is set..."
Joo Seong-hwan handed the mic to Choi Chang, who pulled out a white envelope.
"How will Giggle Band finalize this bracket? If they like it as is, they don't have to use the ticket."
Choi Chang eyed the bracket on the screen, pondering, and I mulled it over too. The variable had already rewritten the future I knew.
"If they don't use it, the ticket expires right here."
"Uh...... I......"
Choi Chang, who'd turned toward the screen, pivoted back to face the stage front. Our eyes met, and he spoke.
"I'll use the change ticket."
"Pick the teams to swap."
Choi Chang declared, "I'll swap HitPodo and Black Label."
But the future? I can change it.
Black Label members' morale has risen!
Black Label member 'Ji-soo''s performance ability has increased!
"Whoa—we barely survived."
The draw was over. Back in the waiting room, Ray finally exhaled the breath she'd been holding. Cameras and mics off—no more on-record bullshit. Time to vent for real. Made for some prime entertainment.
Won Ji-min undid a shirt button and fanned herself. Couldn't look away. Those glimpses of collarbone sparked thoughts that had no business being there. She hadn't shown it, but her heart must've been pounding too.
"When I first saw we drew Mega Crunch sunbaes, my mind went totally blank."
Ji-soo peeled back the foil from her kimbap, smacking her lips. Mind went blank? More like stuffed with kimbap. She dangled the last stubby roll at me.
"Oppa, want this?"
"Nah, eat up."
"Yeah, I was just asking to be polite anyway."
Jammin was begging for a knuckle rap.
"Oppa, here."
Unlike someone chowing down, Won Ji-min offered me a whole roll. Her side was still flat as a board.
"Thanks."
"Did you know, oppa?"
"Huh?"
Her eyes—deep, clear enough to mirror me—locked on mine. Meeting such pretty ones dried my lips. Throat tightened, words stumbled out after hurdles.
"Kuhm. Huh?"
"Oh, stomach acting up? Sorry."
Won Ji-min yanked a tissue and handed it over. I wiped my drool-smeared lips. The kimbap I'd held somehow ended up back in her hand.
"And you didn't even notice."
"No."
"Yeah, Hyun-woo oppa just spaced out and choked."
Ji-soo waved the last kimbap stub, crumpling the foil. Fans raved about her gap moe with that eye smile—today it just pissed me off. King receive.
"Oppa, water."
Won Ji-min passed a bottle, picking up where she'd left off.
"I kinda wondered...? You seemed unfazed, like you knew about the change ticket."
"Unfazed?"
"Yes."
Her firm reply rang out. Weird. I'd felt my pupils quake when Mega Crunch got matched. But those clear eyes held conviction. No need to hide knowing—players were already judging composers by their judge connections anyway.
"I knew the ticket existed. Just not who they'd use it on."
"Ooh—Falcon as expected!"
Hey. Jammin lunged first. Ji-soo grilled how I knew, but that missed the point.
"Why use it on us, though?"
Won Ji-min asked, and Ray answered.
"Giggle Band used it, but not on us, right?"
Ray zoomed in on the updated bracket from the announcement on her tablet. Mega Crunch now faced HitPodo. Mega Crunch was a male ballad duo; HitPodo, a female ballad trio. Ballad vs. ballad—pure honey matchup. Plus girl group vs. girl group bonus event.
Ray focused on the main bout, reading Choi Chang's mind.
"Giggle Band probably saw Mega Crunch as a threat too. Wanted HitPodo to take them out first. HitPodo could've beaten Mega Crunch."
Half right, half wrong. HitPodo probably could topple Mega Crunch. But from Giggle Band's view, wasn't HitPodo still a handful? Lucky Black Label drew an easy one. I eyed my lucky Black Label—overzealous confidence from their prep work? Even beating Opaz might not get them to 16.
I shook my head, countering Ray.
"Nah."
"Huh?"
"I see it different. If like you said, why not swap Mega Crunch out for HitPodo instead?"
That way Giggle Band gets an easier round of 16 foe. I needed to instill confidence—they had to stand firm against Giggle Band too.
"They moved us, not Mega Crunch, because among their potential round of 16 foes—Mega Crunch, HitPodo, Black Label."
I ticked off fingers.
"We're the trickiest, so they shipped us far away."
Won Ji-min's eyes went wide; Ray startled. Even prankster Jammin, who never read the room, looked impressed.
Waiting time flew; filming time looped back quick. With the crowd packed in, staff handled it pros—split the studio for pre-registered teams only, stages prepped in sequence to cut waits. Only production and judges suffered, shuttling between finished and ready stages. We were third up.
Hyped teams with long preps? They slotted quick ones like us early.
"Opaz first."
Won Ji-min spotted them prepping and said so. We were scouting from a dim studio corner where light barely hit. Even in the shadows, I felt her cheeks flush, words stumbling. Same for me.
I knew the sexy concept was extreme, but this? Basically underwear. Key bits covered, but the writhing choreo was no joke. Brain-melting fit the bill? Trailing Black Label manager was zoned out too.
Like dodging shit and stepping in diarrhea. Mouth agape, he wouldn't shut it.
"Uh-uh-uh......"
Like a succubus drained his essence—only weird groans escaped. And climax? Hadn't even started. As Opaz arrayed for group choreo, backup dancers prepped something.
Dance break. Main dancer soloed to buy time; Opaz members took water bottles from dancers and, right on cue, splashed themselves.
"Wh-what?"
Not water. Oil. Slick oil hit the floor; I muttered unwittingly.
"What the hell are you doing?"