Chapter 61
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 61
Chapter Title: All Highlights
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Finally, it was the turn of the last stage in the first-year first-semester comprehensive evaluation.
Behind the closed curtain, the stage setup was complete.
The actors waiting backstage totaled four, including Moon Woo-hyuk and Song Ha-na.
Do-hyun was nowhere to be seen.
"Man, everyone's got that bored-to-death look on their faces."
Moon Woo-hyuk peeked at the audience through a gap in the stage and muttered.
He was right.
After a full six hours of sitting through performances, the audience looked utterly drained and bored.
Some were fiddling with their phones, while others stared blankly at the stage, their souls seemingly checked out.
"So what? The second I step out there, they'll all perk right up."
Song Ha-na put on a bold front, acting like she couldn't care less about the reaction.
But the truth was, she was pretty nervous.
Unlike her usual self, her hands and feet fidgeted restlessly, betraying her.
"Everyone ready?"
Yoon Jong-hoon approached the four actors after quickly checking the stage setup.
"Why's everyone so tense?"
It wasn't anything severe, but they were definitely off from their normal selves.
Having rehearsed together nearly every day for the past two months, he could tell.
Skill-wise, these weren't kids who got nervous.
This situation alone was what had them on edge.
The audience had waited a long time, and so had the actors.
The morning rehearsal felt like ages ago—ten hours, to be exact.
That long buildup had loosened their tension a bit, but now, with the stage right in front of them and the audience's listless faces in view, it all came bursting out.
"Is it the audience's vibe getting to you?"
The four offered no reply to Yoon Jong-hoon's question.
It was the kind of affirmative silence that needed no words.
Yoon Jong-hoon wanted to ease their nerves somehow.
"If that's the issue, no need to sweat it. By the time you hit the stage, the audience won't be in this state at all."
He knew full well that easing that tension wasn't his job—it belonged to someone else.
With a pleased smile, Yoon Jong-hoon glanced toward the audience entrance at the back of the theater.
Everyone followed his gaze.
"That guy's got this, right?"
"Yeah. He hasn't dropped the ball once so far."
Moon Woo-hyuk, who had been eyeing the door with suspicion, suddenly shot Song Ha-na a sharp look.
"You really trust him, huh?"
"More than you?"
"What?!"
Somehow, the tension broke—not for Yoon Jong-hoon's intended reason, but it worked.
Even the other two actors, who had initially been intimidated by Song Ha-na and Moon Woo-hyuk, now chuckled softly at the pair.
At any rate, the icy atmosphere had thawed.
"Alright then, I'll count on you. My actors."
Yoon Jong-hoon met each of their eyes one by one as he spoke.
And then,
"The performance will now begin. The performance will now begin."
The fifteen-minute intermission was over.
The announcement signaling the start of the final show echoed through the theater.
The actors moved to their assigned positions.
Yoon Jong-hoon watched them go, silently.
*Please nail this. Just like in rehearsal. Exactly like that.*
He hadn't let it show in front of the actors, but Yoon Jong-hoon was plenty tense himself.
He took up position just behind the stage, with a clear view.
Soon enough,
*Tick-*
Every light in the mid-sized theater went dark.
A moment later, something unexpected happened.
*Boom-!*
A deep bass note thundered through the space, and simultaneously, the house lights came up.
Not the stage lights—the auditorium lights.
"Huh?"
"What the...?"
Normally, the house lights dimmed, the curtain rose, and the stage illuminated.
Suspecting a mistake, the audience glanced around in confusion.
*Pop-!*
Fireworks cracked overhead, and something burst from above.
Hundreds of sheets of paper fluttered down into the seats like confetti.
"What *is* that?"
Confused murmurs erupted from the audience.
Heads craned back to watch the papers drifting from the ceiling.
The sheets soon reached the seats.
One by one, audience members snatched them up for a look.
"A hotel invitation?"
"Pfft—now *that's* fresh."
The papers were invitations from a hotel.
As if personally welcoming everyone into the world this musical would unveil.
The boredom was gone in an instant—everyone pored over their invitations.
*Bang-!*
Another loud noise rang out.
This one didn't come from the speakers.
It sounded from the back of the theater—the exact opposite of the stage.
All eyes turned there in surprise.
Standing alone at the entrance, a man in count's attire flung the door wide open.
A few who recognized him whispered.
"Lee Do-hyun...?"
It was the star of this show—Do-hyun as Damius.
"The hour of my arrival, right on time!"
Seeing every eye on him, he threw open the musical with a booming projection.
Do-hyun's sudden entrance from off-stage had everyone hooked.
*Da-dan-tan-*
Cheerful music, like the chime of a hotel door swinging open, filled the air.
Do-hyun matched it, swaying his hips in place.
As the dignified Count Damius, his movements were slow and weighty.
Yet they synced perfectly with the upbeat tune, drawing cheers.
The audience clapped along naturally, tracking Do-hyun as he made his way slowly toward the stage.
It worked.
A thrill raced through him, but he kept his expression in check.
High risk, high return.
That's what he'd told Yoon Jong-hoon when they drew the dreaded last slot.
Less than an hour later, Yoon had cooked up a brilliant idea.
*Let's kick off the show by opening the hotel doors.*
What Do-hyun was delivering now was the evolved version.
Result? He'd reeled in the bored crowd in under a minute.
With anticipation ignited, it was time to leverage being last.
Flip the "last = boring" mindset into a positive spin on the show?
No follow-up act meant they could dive in with light hearts.
*Boom-boom-*
Damius—Do-hyun—finished his opening duty, crossing the house to the beat.
As he passed close by, curious eyes followed.
But it wasn't over.
One final hook remained.
"Hup."
On stage, Do-hyun gripped the curtain—which parted automatically—and mimed pulling it open by hand.
It slid apart smoothly, right on cue.
Just like opening the hotel doors.
"Opening the hotel doors is always such a chore."
Having "parted" the full curtain, Do-hyun strode casually to center stage with long steps.
"Shall we get started today?"
He extended an arm in signal, and the pre-set hotel on stage lit up brilliantly.
Like a grand hotel fresh and ready for guests.
Cheerful music swelled as the stage plunged into blackout.
The house lights followed suit.
Nothing like Kim Sun-woo's opener, but Do-hyun's was perfect in its own right.
And so, the final team's comprehensive evaluation performance began.
***
From there, the show rolled on without a hitch.
Song Ha-na fully embodied Elpodi, a side of her no one had seen before.
Meanwhile, I poured myself into Damius's emotions, carrying on with the acting.
I focused on stage by recalling that solo practice where I'd nailed the high note.
At least none of this musical's numbers pushed into straining highs.
High notes had always carried that mental weight before, but not today.
No pressure at all—I belted them clean and crisp, zeroed in on the performance.
*That pitch is fully his now.*
In the audience, Huh Ji-woong thought back to the eager disciple who'd rushed to him just weeks ago.
Seemed like only days since he'd bubbled over about breaking through the high note's starting gate.
No slacking after—he'd kept at it steadily, and now he was soaring on stage like a fish to water.
Pride swelled, along with an unexpected lump in his throat.
Ji-woong wasn't alone—every teacher and judge was locked on the stage.
Do-hyun's performance left zero room for doubt.
At the same time, the backstage lounge was deathly quiet.
The musical kids and students glued to the screen feed seemed to have forgotten to breathe, utterly immersed.
"Wow..."
Lee Cheong-ha stared, transfixed, not even blinking as her eyes stayed on Do-hyun.
"Lee Do-hyun's timbre is insane."
"Right? Holding that tone through a high like that."
Cheong-ha wasn't the only one—every kid reacted the same.
The musical students heaped on the praise.
"Anyone could hit a high like that, though?"
One student, soured by their own earlier flub, grumbled pointlessly.
Then a calm voice cut through the lounge.
"Sure. That scale isn't tough for anyone."
Kim Sun-woo—siding up unnoticed—fixed the kid with a look.
The startled student gawked at him, stammering.
"Uh... huh...?"
"But that emotion? That feel? That timbre? Anyone can pull *that* off?"
Sun-woo's merciless reality check shut the kid down cold.
He flashed a quick smile, then turned back to the screen.
Everyone here was competition.
A killer performance naturally sparked alarm.
Still, the mid-sized theater hosted a stage no one could deny.
What made it wild? They were barely into the show.
Excitement built for where this musical would go next.
And Do-hyun's team still held aces up their sleeves to deliver.
The smooth flow darkened abruptly.
Ominous BGM crept in, hinting at something's arrival.
A lone figure slowly emerged on the empty stage.
*Step-step-*
Do-hyun was tall, but this actor's physique overwhelmed even more.
Moon Woo-hyuk made his entrance.
At 186 cm with a massive frame, his mere presence dominated the house.
Alone at center stage, he filled it with sheer intimidation.
That uncanny expression sealed it.
Eyes gleaming as if desperately searching.
Yet a sly smirk tugged at his lips, muddying his intent.
The audience held its collective breath, watching Woo-hyuk.
His entrance alone owned the hush—what came next?
He swept the seats with a quick head turn, like hunting for something, vibe all off.
Then the line dropped, deliberate and slow.
"Elpodi. I *told* you—you can't leave me."
Folks often ask about a show's highlights.
If someone hit me with that about our stage right now, here's my answer.
This performance? From here to the end—*all* highlights.