Variety + Trot + Quest = Viral Hit

All these calculations were a formula for buzz. Over ten thousand Black Label searches, and advancing to the next round. Quests, contests. The first thing we could do was stir up some hype.

I tapped the mattress-covered floor like a keyboard. A strategy against Rock One was solid. The song we'd made was good too. But who made it? It wasn't my one-sided judgment. It was an objective call from Cheol, Je, and Hee.

Won Ji-min, who was humming the melody while insisting on writing the lyrics herself, had been swaying her body nonstop. If even the talent bug Won Ji-min was shaking like this, the song's hook was insane.

As a beat contest, stage performance weighed heavily in the judging criteria, but we couldn't score an overwhelming victory against Rock One and their massive fandom. An eye for an eye, a fan for a fan. We needed noise marketing. There wasn't time for anything else.

"Oppa, this song is seriously good. It'll climb the charts straight up once it's released."

Won Ji-min waved her pen as she praised it, but it was useless. What good was topping the charts after getting eliminated? Right now, we needed encouragement from the public more than from each other.

"Hmm..."

I turned to Hye-soo, who was working on choreography, to gather my thoughts.

"Like this? Or... like that."

"Looks the same to me?"

"It's different."

"What's different? I said it's the same!"

"No, here. The pinky finger's different. The pinky."

"...Unnie. Are you crazy? Who notices that?"

"You really don't get it."

While Ray and Hye-soo bickered, I blinked.

"...Who notices."

Exactly. Who notices is the key in this match. I whipped my head around.

Toward Shim Yu-jeong, who was filming us intently with bated breath, I asked,

"PD-nim."

"Yes?"

Shim Yu-jeong looked up from her preview screen.

"Um... I'm not actually a PD."

She wasn't debuting later? By my standards, they were all ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠PDs. But that wasn't the point. I cut straight to it.

"Can we do some promotion?"

"Promotion? How?"

I shook my phone.

"Uh... You mean SNS?"

"Yes."

"As long as it doesn't spoil the broadcast, it's fine."

Shim Yu-jeong gave a by-the-book answer. No, not that.

"We're planning to shoot a short video."

Before the concept of 'challenges' took off. Before short-form content was on people's minds. Shim Yu-jeong asked,

"What length are we talking? One minute? Three? Five?"

"Thirty seconds? Max one minute."

"Thirty seconds? Like a teaser? And it'll include the song you composed, right?"

Shim Yu-jeong completely missed my intent and summarized it in the group chat. Black Label dropped their lyrics and choreography and rushed over.

"Oppa. What are we filming?"

"Yeah, I've got an idea."

Jo Young-soo's endless greed. He'd ordered all contestants from the start to post promos, hoping for even a 0.001% ratings boost. As long as it didn't spark controversy, they'd allow it.

The reply came quick; Shim Yu-jeong looked up mid-typing.

"Composer-nim, it's all good. We hate vote-rigging scandals too. If you have wording in mind, could you share the nuance?"

She showed a hardline stance on nipping controversy in the bud. So I said,

"When's our broadcast scheduled?"

"Uh... For Black Label... Two weeks from now?"

Two weeks. I calculated the date on my fingers and replied,

"August 14th, 6 PM, Supreme Beat Contest Round of 16: Black Label vs Rock One – Please show lots of love!"

-What's 'please show lots of love' mean?

-Isn't that some weird slang?

Like a question ghost possessed her; Shim Yu-jeong grilled me for ages. Only after repeating 'Please show lots of interest!' dozens of times—something that didn't even show up in searches—did she finally leave. I gathered Black Label in an empty waiting room with a decent backdrop.

"So what do we do? Practice performance video?"

Ray crunched on dried sweet potato sticks.

"That won't work."

"Why not? Belly fat showing?"

Hye-soo flicked the dangling end of Ray's sweet potato stick. It snapped off.

"Eung? Nooo!"

Ray abruptly lifted her T-shirt. Smooth abs came into view, but I quickly raised my palm.

"See? Where's my belly fat? So smooth."

"Hey, hey, put it down."

"What? Oppa. Judge for us. Do I have belly fat?"

I don't know. I don't know! Aren't you embarrassed?

"Park Hyun-young."

We needed to cool the rowdy vibe. A leader's a leader. At Won Ji-min calling Ray's real name, the raised hand dropped. Ray swallowed her sweet potato mid-chew. Hierarchy was solid in this team.

"Let's hear what Hyun-woo oppa has to say."

As Won Ji-min beckoned me, not just Black Label but the manager focused on me. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠It wasn't anything grand, but with all eyes on me, it felt like a big deal.

"Like I said earlier, we're making a short video."

I addressed Ray's earlier point.

"It's a dance video, but not practice footage. The key point choreography we're most confident in for this track."

"Key point choreography?"

Won Ji-min's brows furrowed; I nodded.

"This is the move I'm pushing for this song. The killing part."

"Ah~ Killing part. Yeah, got it."

Hye-soo jumped up. The camera following her rose too. She waved her arms. Not sharp idol sync like sword formations. Touch left leg, touch right leg. Shrug shoulders and ripple arms like waves.

"How's this? 'Let's all have fun' vibe."

"Good."

I knew zilch about dance, but it looked easy. I grabbed my phone and played the killing part. As the beat dropped, Won ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Ji-min raised her hand.

"Dance aside, lyrics aren't done yet."

"This part?"

I replayed the chorus. Her hand lowered.

"Ah, that's there. Savvy."

Lyrics done. Choreo done. Beat complete. No reason to delay the challenge. I looked up at the Black Label manager.

"Manager-nim."

"Yes."

"Got a lot of photos of the girls?"

"Uh... Like proof shots? Yeah, I can handle poses."

Perfect.

"Then, please."

"How should I shoot?"

I positioned Black Label to my direction and explained the concept.

"Play the chorus. No need to sing—just do the matching choreo."

"That's it?"

After a few run-throughs pre-shoot, Black Label shrugged.

"Yeah. That's all. Not hard, right?"

It couldn't be hard. For a challenge video, the killing point had to be easy for tons of people to copy.

The manager, in his pre-scouted spot, asked about framing.

"Like this?"

"Yes."

A slight close-up wouldn't hurt. I pinched the screen with two fingers, then spoke to Black Label in the lens.

"When you dance, think 'I hope tons of people copy this video.' Put that feeling into it?"

"Hope tons of people copy..."

"Alright, let's go!"

Ding! As the manager hit record, Black Label moved.

An earworm beat that pried your ears open. Listening to this melody on repeat felt oddly mysterious. The song melody danced on some unknowable boundary. Cheap mic trot from a highway rest stop vibe, yet somehow upbeat dance medley too—hit or miss.

Songs ride personal taste. What one person hates might burrow brain-deep into another, blocking out chores. It started, naturally, in Black Label's fan cafe.

It spread through communities at breakneck speed—not just spreading, but verification videos poured in. As easy to sing as the melody, clips of kids shaking hips while humming started popping up. It went viral on its own. Views skyrocketed just from posting.

#BlackLabel trended fast, and YouTubers and influencers who couldn't miss the wave started copying the choreo. G&X wasn't dumb enough to kick away free publicity rolling in.

"What the hell is this? Views exploding in one day?"

"Insane, team leader. This is no joke."

"Song title? No, more vids?"

A G&X Entertainment promo team staffer shook their head.

"None."

"Why? Just shoot more."

"Right? I thought so too. But the Supreme Beat PD suddenly blocked it."

"Why?"

"Dunno. 2nd Team manager just said so."

"Are they idiots? Why suddenly... Snet, right? PD Jo Young-soo?"

As the promo team leader stomped and scrolled contacts, an uninvited guest entered.

"Something wrong, team leader?"