A Very Special Performance Evaluation
Yeouido's broadcasting station entertainment department office was as hectic as ever today with work related to Star's Birth. The second preliminary round had just aired. It was still early days, but this was a massive project, so they had no choice but to be extra sensitive to ratings and buzz.
Right before heading into the production meeting, executive PD Kim Seokhyeon sought out PD Choi Jinhyuk.
"Choi PD. You saw the data already, right?"
"Ah, yeah. It turned out great."
Choi PD, brimming with excitement, added, "Especially the participant Ji Soeun—her buzz is off the charts."
"13 percent, right?"
"Yes. Peak ratings hit 13 percent during her scene. The episode average was 11 percent."
Ji Soeun's appearance had spiked to 13 percent instantaneous ratings. For terrestrial TV, anything over 10 percent was considered a success. And this was just the beginning of the broadcast—truly staggering numbers.
"Good job. Really good job."
But Kim PD seemed fixated elsewhere. "Ji Soeun's scene wasn't number one, though, right?"
"True, but it's a bit iffy to count that as pure broadcast impact."
Actually, the ratings graph had one major outlier: episode 1. It introduced the judges, the audition's identity, and some first-round participants—an episode that felt so-so overall. But there was one spike. A massive one.
"That's Kim Seryeon, so we disregard it."
"Kim Seryeon it is."
"Ratings shot up the moment he first appeared, then locked in when he started singing. That's why that peak was the highest."
"That was...?"
"17 percent."
"......No way."
Kim PD let out a hollow laugh, even though he already knew. Hearing it confirmed made it sound even more absurd—an insanely huge number.
"That's finale-level ratings for other auditions."
Everyone had rushed to their TVs competitively, as if they'd been waiting for it. They tuned in solely to catch a glimpse of that handsome composer from the pre-broadcast teaser—the one and only Kim Seryeon.
Choi PD muttered in admiration to himself. "I'm only human, after all."
"You're human, Choi PD."
"?"
His perfect joke falling flat, Kim PD just switched topics. "Born with it."
"He'd crush it as an actor, too."
"But he's aiming for composition..."
"He actually passed the audition for that."
It was something to celebrate, but not pure joy. It felt like a waste—he'd shine more in something that leveraged his visuals. Out of regret, Kim PD tossed out a half-joking remark.
"Oh really? Should we make a composition audition show then? Show Me the Melody? What do you think?"
"Nah, that's a bit..."
"Yeah, my thoughts exactly."
Broadcast-wise, composition just wasn't entertaining. Singing live was way better.
A few more weeks had passed since my terrestrial TV appearance. Lately, I'd been getting all sorts of offers via email, but I didn't outright ignore them. Most conversations went something like this.
"We watched your broadcast—it was amazing! Debut as a singer with us!"
"Sorry, but I don't think I have the talent for singing."
"Huh? Didn't you do the audition?"
"That was just a one-off to prove my composing skills."
"Ah..."
I could perform on stage, but I had no intention of becoming a singer. Plenty of people sang better than me anyway, and I just preferred composing—no deeper reason.
"How about becoming an idol? We're a small agency just starting out, but we do plenty of local gigs!"
"Isn't a bit old to start as a trainee? High school first year."
"Well, yeah..."
I turned down the idol offer. Those kids poured everything in from middle school. Age was an excuse—I just couldn't muster that passion for it.
"Want to audition for our drama?"
"I'm focusing on composing right now."
"Real talk?"
"Real talk: I'm not that good at acting."
Drama auditions on hold for now. Weirdly, I could sing on stage fine, but acting? Imagining interacting with tons of people—making eye contact, exchanging emotions—gave me panic attack vibes. That was a clear trigger, so hold off until I overcame it.
So what was I doing now? Composing a new song.
The big agencies must be desperate to recruit producers right now.
Auditions were booming. TV stars' dreams had ignited the public, leading to an explosion of aspiring singers over the next few years. But one problem.
Soon, there won't be enough producers to write songs for all these singers.
Existing producers were swamped. Debut hopefuls were stomping their feet in frustration. Solution? Scout new talent. Build a solid portfolio, and big agencies come knocking. That's my target.
I wanted success. Ideally, through composing.
To make it happen, I need to hustle starting now.
So, off to arts high school. Network, mingle, gain new stuff. Dressed in uniform, I entered the classroom buzzing with morning chatter.
"Which club you joining?"
"What? You already applied? Oh, know a senior?"
After the freshman welcome frenzy at Hanseong Arts High School, time flew—March turned to April. Everyone was making friends, settling in. Now it was club season. Juniors ran things, but freshmen were the future stars, so second-years hustled during breaks to recruit.
Drag!
Armed with picket signs, flyers, and business cards, second-years swarmed like bandits, raiding freshman classrooms.
"Hello, underclassmen! We're All You Band, the school's top skilled band club! Join us for regular performances and external gigs!"
"Guitar players get bonus points!"
"And Seryeon underclassman, we saw you play guitar—it'd fit our club perfectly."
What? Me?
"Hello, we're the dance club Sky Light! No rhythm? No problem. We all started out that way."
"And Kim Seryeon underclassman? Tall guys with your physique make dance lines look stunning."
Dance?
"Now, an introduction to the theater club Mujika. We have actual performance experience and are the school's only theater club..."
"Come to Kim Seryeon underclassman—we'll take great care of you."
"Prime roles for you!"
Theater?
Before I knew it, I was every club's top recruitment target. All the attention left my desk piled with gifts: drinks, jelly, snacks, gift certificates...
"What the hell? All this for you?"
Lunchtime. My new friend—munching bread from the cafeteria—asked in disbelief. Kang Saero. Supposedly kinda famous girl, practical music vocal major. Composing and vocals collab a lot anyway. And same middle school made us click fast.
"Band club gave me this. Seniors bought that, classmates the rest..."
"Why are first-years giving you gifts?"
"No idea."
Really no clue.
"......Annoying."
And Saero pouted for some reason.
Hanseong Arts High School has a very special performance evaluation. The so-called album exam. In simple terms: "Make and upload one full song by the end of freshman year."
Finish a song individually by year's end, register it online, get judged—and the school might even support a real release. A real-world battle assignment.
The homeroom teacher who brought it up cracked a school tradition joke with deep roots.
"Fail this, and you're repeating the year, got it?"
Obviously not true, just a joke. But way bigger stakes hung in the balance.
"School scholarships..."
"Grades, student records, all that..."
"Chance to promote the school—seniors broke into agencies and debuted off this..."
"Built portfolios for college free passes..."
Anyway, had to nail it. I'd pour everything into this chance too. So I prepped my secret weapon.
Kang Saero.
"We'll do the album exam together, right?"
"Duh."
I'd known she sang great and built rapport early. Her tone matched my taste perfectly—best visuals with her.
"Sing your most confident song."
Without hesitation, Saero launched into song. Familiar melody. Familiar lyrics.
Huh?
Unexpectedly, Sky Autumn. She nailed it, but I stopped her after the first verse.
"Hold up. Your confident song is mine?"
"We're doing it together anyway. For the composing exam—might as well sync up. Why, do another?"
Fair point.
"Nah. Keep going."
"Got it."
The song resumed. I closed my eyes, focusing solely on her voice.
She's killer.
A full-fledged singer already. Complete now, superstar later. How'd I know? Casually searched our middle school on TooWiki for famous alumni.
TooWiki - A Wiki with Too Much Knowledge
[Aram Middle School/Alumni] - Kang Saero (Singer)
Personality: Total leader type. Proactive, righteous, sharp as a tack.
Visuals: A bit feisty, but pretty.
Skills: Need I say? Crushing it already.
But the industry is ruthless—she never quite made it big. Switched agencies often. Faded into obscurity amid fans' worried cheers. That was past-life Saero.
But damn, she sings like a pro. Wrong agency, maybe?
With her finished song hanging in the air, I said softly,
"......Approved."