The First Team Match
Time flew by in the blink of an eye, and before long the contestants were boarding a plane back to Seoul.
When they had come to Jeju Island, they’d had to book their own tickets and make their way to the set on their own. This time, though, the production team had reserved group seats in advance, so everyone traveled together.
Once they reached Seoul, the contestants would stay at lodging prepared near the set. Rehearsals were scheduled to begin the next morning, with the first team performance taping set for that evening.
Inside the airplane—a plane he was riding for the first time in his life—Neoul sat with his mouth hanging open as he stared out the window.
We’re above the clouds! Above the clouds!
He was flying through the sky!
It felt as though he had become a bird, looking down from high above.
Ever since the plane had taken off, Neoul had been trembling with excitement.
He had thought planes would run across the land like buses; he had never imagined they’d suddenly lift into the air halfway through.
Then, all at once, his ears had gone stuffy, so he called to Yeo Do-bin, who was seated beside him.
“Yeo Do-bin. My ears are strange.”
“Ah, really? Want a candy?”
Neoul didn’t understand why he was being offered food when he’d said his ears felt odd, but since it was given to him, he took it without hesitation.
This time, he even remembered to tear open the plastic wrapper.
Crunch!
The hard candy shattered beneath his sturdy teeth, sweetening his mouth. As he swallowed the saliva gathered by the candy’s artificial sweetness, his blocked ears popped open.
“Oh?”
Neoul even stuffed the stick that had come with the candy into his mouth with obvious satisfaction.
“Spit that out!”
Yeo Do-bin shouted in alarm. Perhaps his voice had been too loud, because the people around them, who had been chatting quietly, also went still and looked over at him.
With everyone’s attention suddenly on him, Yeo Do-bin blushed scarlet and hurriedly bent at the waist in apology.
“I’m sorry…. I’m sorry….”
“Sir, is something the matter? Are you all right?”
Even a flight attendant came over to check on the situation, and Yeo Do-bin’s eyes began to shake. Seeing Neoul spit the stick into his palm, he shook his head frantically.
“A-ah, it’s nothing. I’m fine. I’m sorry….”
At last, the crowd’s attention moved on.
Beside Yeo Do-bin, on the aisle side, Ha On-ha covered his mouth and snickered under his breath.
“Neoul~ Is the stick tasty? Your teeth are really strong~”
Then he turned to Yeo Do-bin and acted as if they were close, too.
“That’s the first time I’ve heard Do-bin talk that loud.”
Yeo Do-bin hid his face behind his bag in sheer mortification and slumped back against his seat like a melted lump of cheese.
Neoul merely stared at him blankly, perfectly calm.
“Why are you acting like that?”
“It’s because of you…. You yelled inside the plane.”
Yeo Do-bin’s voice had now dwindled to a barely audible whisper.
“Then it must not be done?”
“…? Of course not…?”
“Why?”
“Because it’s polite to be quiet?”
Yeo Do-bin’s downcast face shifted into one of utter disbelief.
From the way Neoul behaved, it seemed he really was flying on a plane for the first time—but surely this was etiquette one had to observe everywhere, not just on airplanes? After all, one shouldn’t disturb other people.
Even at home, where one was alone, you had to be mindful of the noise you made for the neighbors below.
Yeo Do-bin revised his impression of Neoul.
At first, he had seemed warm and wise, the sort of person who would speak to someone before they even had a chance to speak first. But the more he saw of him, the more he looked like a guy who lacked common sense and was strange in ways that were hard to define.
Yeo Do-bin looked down at the tiny stick resting on Neoul’s palm. It had snapped in the middle after just one bite.
Wasn’t that hard? His bite force…?
He took a pack of wet wipes out of his bag and handed them over.
“Hurry and wipe your hands, then wrap the stick in this and hold onto it.”
“Why should I keep this? Is it important?”
“N-no…. Just throw it away once we get to the airport….”
“Ahh. I see.”
Neoul wiped his hands, wrapped the stick in the wet wipe, and held it properly in his fist. Then, his eyes gleaming with anticipation, he held out his other hand to Yeo Do-bin.
“Yeo Do-bin. My ears seem blocked again.”
It was a lie so he could get another candy, but Yeo Do-bin believed him and obediently gave him one more. After all, Neoul had managed to talk him out of seven candies already, and now he was slyly holding out his hand again.
“My ears are strange once more.”
“…Do you maybe have an ear infection? If it happens every time you fly, that’ll be rough in the future. I only have this much left now… what do I do….”
With a pained expression, Yeo Do-bin took out the last candy and handed it over.
“It’d be better to let it dissolve slowly instead of biting it in one go.”
Neoul had been about to crunch down on it again, but at the news that there were no more left, he looked disappointed and held the candy in his mouth.
Ha On-ha, apparently finding that funny too, covered his mouth and giggled beside them.
An hour later, after getting off the plane and boarding a bus to the lodging, Neoul again pressed both hands and his face against the window, unable to tear his eyes away from the city.
The sun had gone down and the clouds had covered the moon, yet the city was blazing with light. It was as though someone had peeled off a piece of the night sky and scattered it everywhere.
And then, the next day. While he was caught in the whirlwind of rehearsals and waiting briefly as they prepared the main stage, Neoul looked back on the time they’d spent.
During the preparation for the competition, they hadn’t only rehearsed every day.
They had filmed the challenge video for the signal song Come Here, recorded self-cams showing how the competition prep was going, and even drawn on the faces of the contestants who slept late.
The production team had told them to do it, but Neoul really couldn’t understand why anyone would draw on a sleeping stranger’s face.
I wonder if the Sea Witch made it back to Dragon Palace safely.
He was worried whether Father had awakened yet, or whether he still hadn’t recovered even enough strength or appetite to eat anything at all.
But I’ll trust them.
The Sea Witch, and Father.
They were much stronger and wiser than young Neoul. Surely they would be all right.
So for the Sea Witch, who had gone to all that trouble to deliver the rabbit’s liver in his place, Neoul had to see the stage through successfully.
If he finished well and waited patiently, surely the Sea Witch, having returned from Dragon Palace, would bring news that Father had recovered.
“Next! Please get ready!”
At the staff member’s shout, Neoul stood. His teammates called out fighting spirits with tense faces.
“Let’s do well.”
“Yes!”
“Yap! Cheongi is coming!”
“Hwaiting Hagensmusnida!”
The team members all turned to look at Neoul. He checked his own condition once more and nodded.
“Yes. I am ready.”
* * *
The younger sister of a law student. She was so devoted to idols that it would have been faster to count the idol groups she didn’t like than the ones she did.
Because she loved K-pop itself with such fervor, maybe she couldn’t settle down for long with any one group.
In other words, she was a shameless all-fan.
She had long ago gone down a different path from her older sister. Her sister had set aside fandom and kept studying for the sake of her grades, but the younger sister had set aside studying for the sake of fandom.
What, you think that’s the kind of thing that earns you a backhand from your mother?
― Get your act together, you brat!
Of course she got hit.
But she refused to give in and opened a muktube channel for fandom content.
She uploaded videos rebutting the outrageous claims of clickbait muktube channels that smeared idols, defending them point by point, and she made debut guides and support videos for the idol groups she loved.
Her subscriber count grew at an explosive rate, and these days she had become a muktuber with a whopping 400,000 subscribers.
Oh. I’m kind of amazing.
Anyway, as a self-proclaimed “idol expert” and “old hand in idol fandom,” there was no way she could miss an idol survival program.
Fortunately, luck had been on her side. She had beaten the odds and won a ticket to attend the first team battle of Idol Travel.
― Aaaah! Tell me how Neoul looks in real life! No—pictures! Just one picture! No, a video! Go film a fancam!
― Kekeke! Watch the broadcast if you want~ I’m going to see him right in front of me!
Leaving behind her sister’s envious roar.
Since she wasn’t yet devoted enough to choose just one person and root for him, she had come to watch with a light heart.
[Dear passengers, hello. Thank you for choosing the Idol Travel flight, bound for a journey to find the world’s brightest idol. Our crew will do everything we can to make sure you enjoy a pleasant and happy trip.]
[Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to IDOL TRAVEL….]
She had been thrilled even when the lights went out and the voice-over she’d heard in the performance MV began to play.
Even when the pin lights came on and actor Jeong Ondo, the MC, stepped onto the stage, carrying a flag in his hand and a backpack slung over his shoulders, she was still smiling broadly.
[Passengers aboard the Idol Travel flight! Welcome!]
Even after Jeong Ondo gave a few reminders about the rules to follow while watching the performance, and explained how the voting would work….
[Then let’s depart for our first travel destination! Whoosh~!]
Even after he introduced the first team’s cover song and their shabby team name, and the pin lights faded out with his cheerful closing line. Yes, up to that point it had been fine.
But then.
What is this…. It’s way too bland.
To be fair, it wasn’t bad for a group of trainees.
Still, to a muktube fan who spent her time replaying high-quality stages by active idols over and over and making videos out of them, the trainees’ performances just didn’t satisfy her.
Of course they couldn’t help being weaker than the original song… but her standards had gotten so absurdly high that she couldn’t properly enjoy the stage and instead spent the whole time comparing things in her head.
Even the first, second, and third team matches were disappointing.
It was right around the time her concentration was beginning to drift and she started to wonder whether she’d come for nothing that—
“It’s Baek Yuri!”
“Ohhh—”
At last, in the fourth team match, contestants who had actually been mentioned a fair amount began to appear. In particular, Baek Yuri was the contestant who had appeared on screen the second most after Ha On-ha, who had been the center of the Come Here performance MV.
The volume of the cheers from the audience changed, too.
“Yuriiiiii! I missed youuuuuu!”
“Baek Yuri!”
She even spotted someone holding a slogan banner and shouting with tears in their eyes. They looked like fans who had supported Baek Yuri since his Clear days.
The intro played, and Baek Yuri, who had the opening part, tossed out the first line.
Hey, where do you think you’re looking?
Why don’t you look at me?
From one to ten, I don’t like a single thing about you.
Screams exploded everywhere. Even she was startled.
Whoa, what is that voice?
It was too good.
Even though she had studied it in advance by watching his individual live performance video, it was so good it still caught her off guard.
What? The video didn’t even capture half of this. Did they butcher it in post-production or what?
As if he were using an entirely different microphone from the other contestants, Baek Yuri’s vocals stayed clean and stable even while he was dancing like a man possessed.
It was Dunkiss’s debut song.
It was a brutally difficult song, both in dance and vocals, one that Dunkiss had bitten down hard and released with a “hard-hitting performance” concept.
And yet Baek Yuri didn’t miss a single beat of choreography, nor did his pitch waver even once.
In the middle, a few movements that differed from the original choreography appeared here and there, but they were light motions that gave him room to breathe, and they fit the song so well that they felt entirely natural.
Now this is fun.
This was on a completely different level from the stages she’d seen so far.
Then came the dance break. One of the team members slipped and fell hard to the floor. He landed on his side, probably stinging pretty badly.
In that instant, Baek Yuri moved as smoothly as water, reached out to gently pull the teammate up, and continued the motion as though it had been a partner choreography all along.
What, what is that? Was that planned?
No way. He really did fall hard, didn’t he? And he just turned that into part of the performance like that?
Could an idol who had only promoted for six months really react that quickly and flexibly?
The stage ended with a forceful finale.
This might be the only team to actually cover the song properly.
She let out a breath. There was no denying it. The excitement had completely returned, the chill she’d felt from the earlier stages melting away.
Who would come out next?
If the next performance was similar to the boring ones before it, then this fourth team match would probably see all the votes go to the group that had just performed.
[All right, the next team to take the stage is… the team “If You Give Me One Rice Cake, I Won’t Eat You”!]
Huh? What kind of team name was that?
[The song this next group will cover is one by a person who was once called the nation’s perfect daughter and is now called the nation’s singer—someone who has been loved for fifteen years! It’s Take Me With You by SAIM!]
They’re doing that song here?
After hearing Jeong Ondo’s explanation, she clicked her tongue.
Take Me With You was a good song and a major hit, but… would it really suit an idol survival stage? She had her doubts.
It was a song focused more on listening than on performance, so wouldn’t it lack impact and feel a little boring?
Especially after just watching something as intense, sexy, and forceful as the previous stage.
“Whoa. It’s Neoul.”
“No way! He’s wearing hanbok!”