Chapter 117: 1st Competition: Competitive Presentation (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 117: 1st Competition: Competitive Presentation (2)
Have you ever considered the perspective of an audience that has to watch performances for several hours straight while standing?
Especially when their favorite group only performs once, or when they’re there to see a group they’re only ‘mildly interested’ in.
This applies to any broadcast, but attending a music show recording is never easy. It’s even worse for a survival program.
You have no idea when your boys will come out, and you’re forced to endlessly watch strangers sing songs you aren't even familiar with.
In times like these, the audience needs a kind explanation.
It means there needs to be a basic understanding established—a foundation of what kind of color the group has and what kind of song they’re about to sing.
Like businessmen exchanging business cards at a meeting.
In that sense, Parte’s stage was unfriendly.
Who outside of Parte’s fandom would know they were using mythology as a motif?
And if you put on such a conceptual stage under those conditions?
When something is unfamiliar but not quite enough to pique new interest, people call it ‘alienating.’ That was exactly the case for Parte’s stage today.
It will probably look better on broadcast. The cameras will capture the best angles, and the stage effects will be highlighted properly.
But that’s not the case on-site. When you prepare a stage assuming a perfectly controlled environment like a music video set, things are bound to creak. At this stage, where there are no broadcast votes, it’s a painful mistake.
‘The song was messy, too.’
I understand they didn’t want to lose the charm of the original track, which was reminiscent of an amusement park festival. They were likely conscious of the potential criticism for changing the lyrics too much.
But isn't an arrangement supposed to bring something new?
If they wanted to infuse the image of longing into the mysterious space of a temple, simply substituting sounds with a music box would have been effective enough.
In a music competition, having a subpar song is fatal. It means nothing lingers in the mind when it’s time to vote. I suspect the MYTH A&R team will need to do some deep soul-searching before the next round.
So, what should Spark do—a group with even less recognition than Parte?
There is only one answer.
Lower the barrier to entry for the concept as much as possible. Use intuitive items.
“Spark, let’s head to the standby area!”
Leaving Parte’s interview behind, I stepped out of the waiting room with five daily volleyball players.
My legs hurt.
Baek Hae-won carefully rotated her ankles.
She didn't know how many hours she had been standing without a single chance to stretch. She wanted to check the time, but they wouldn't even let her take out her phone, making it impossible.
When she first won the raffle for the recording, she thought it was a gift for finishing her exams. Looking at it now, it felt more like a punishment for a bad student who had flunked them.
Spark, her precious children, were still nowhere to be seen.
In the beginning, she tried to enjoy herself by reacting and cheering, but it wasn't easy. Human stamina is finite, after all. Besides, there hadn't been any stages that really made her want to shout.
At this rate, I won’t even have the energy to cheer when my own boys come out.
Hae-won sincerely worried. In the cramped, dark audience section, she grew more exhausted by the second.
Just as she was repeating the thought, ‘Ah, the people watching from home are the real winners...’ for the three-thousandth time...
“Finally, they’re here. The youngest members who are like the lifeblood of the Idol Dynasty Annals!”
MC Yur of Awangsil—someone Hae-won had missed during her active fangirling days but would have definitely stanned had their timelines overlapped—delivered the long-awaited introduction.
He’s handsome and a great host. I love you, man.
“Please welcome Spark with a round of applause!”
Hae-won clapped until her palms stung, waiting for Spark to walk out from the darkness.
And the moment the members revealed themselves one by one, she gripped her collar.
‘Fucking handsome, holy shit...!’
The recording was indeed a gift from the heavens. Hae-won barely managed to suppress a primitive scream.
Leading the pack was Jeong Seong-bin, wearing a white volleyball uniform. The mint stripes and the matching headband suited him incredibly well.
From his hairline to his forehead and the bridge of his nose, everything about him screamed 'refreshing.'
Who told him to go blonde and expose his forehead? He wouldn't be able to complain even if he got sued for such an act.
Next came Kang Gi-yeon and Lee Cheong-hyeon. Gi-yeon wore a mint uniform, while Cheong-hyeon wore white.
Gi-yeon had white knee pads on both knees, and Cheong-hyeon wore long sleeves on both arms.
Then, Kim I-wol and Choi Je-ho, wearing wrist guards, made their appearance.
A single thought flashed through Hae-won’s mind the moment she saw them.
‘Whoa, they’re freaking tall.’
Even if average heights were increasing, Spark was exceptionally tall. The average height of the Oldest Line was 185cm.
But there was a difference between seeing the numbers and thinking, ‘What? Our boys are a tall group? Hell yeah!’ and actually seeing those giants in person.
Moreover, Choi Je-ho was the tallest in the team. The two men standing like telephone poles in their uniforms were almost intimidating.
‘And they’re fucking handsome...’
Seeing Kim I-wol flash a slight smile toward the audience, Hae-won muttered like a dying wish.
With his sharp features, his skin was so pale it almost had a bluish tint, and the greyish shadows cast over it made his face look even more three-dimensional.
His brow line, nose bridge, and jawline were all razor-sharp, yet the way he smiled softly whenever he looked at the fans was enough to drive anyone crazy.
She couldn't count how many times she had written on social media that she wanted to fall into eternal sleep under the shadows of Kim I-wol’s long eyelashes.
To think that man was actually classmates with my mom’s son. Life is truly worth living.
However, as a veteran otaku, she was able to avoid the delusion of thinking, ‘Iwol smiled at me!’
Finally, Park Ju-woo, wearing a mint uniform and knee-high socks, took his place in the formation.
The blessing of handsomeness was endless. Even the well-toned arm muscles visible beneath his short sleeves were perfect. Spark’s real-life visuals shone like diamonds.
Hae-won felt all her fatigue wash away. Her vocabulary seemed to have regressed, but she didn't care.
As she watched Spark’s interview with a sense of bliss, a question arose.
‘Aren't they covering a Parte song?’
Just a moment ago, Parte had delivered a very gorgeous stage. Their fans seemed to love it, but Hae-won, who didn't know much about Parte’s lore, just thought, ‘Oh, cool~’ and left it at that. It was a bit too abstract for her to fully grasp.
If the goal was to dye the song in their own color, it didn't seem like a bad idea, but she wondered if it would pair well with the flamboyant music Parte had showcased.
However, Hae-won didn't dwell on it for long.
‘Whatever, if all else fails, Ju-woo will tear it up!’
Trust born from skills proven through two promotions and countless pieces of self-produced content. Hae-won had that trust.
With the simple wish for them to do well, she watched as the members finished their interview, gathered in a circle on stage to shout a "Fighting!" and moved to their positions.
A pin light dropped onto the dark stage.
Between the members facing off 3-on-3 according to their uniform colors, the sound of a whistle echoed, and the song began.
The intro started with an exchange between Choi Je-ho and me.
『O, traveler,
What is it you desire?』
『If you must ask, there is but one,
The one and only glory.』
The stage concept was extremely simple.
A clash between the Mint Team (me, Park Ju-woo, and Kang Gi-yeon) and the White Team (Choi Je-ho, Jeong Seong-bin, and Lee Cheong-hyeon)!
Just by looking at the clothing colors and the initial formation, the audience could understand the setting of this stage. That alone was half the battle won.
To this, we added light but precise choreography, the sound of rhythmic foot stomps that echoed better on-site, and the friction of high-fives to add vitality.
『Yearn for it, crave it,
Until it is in your hands!』
Conceptual lyrics can be interpreted differently depending on the situation. At the same time, they make the objective clear.
Clear enough to make people think, ‘Ah, these guys are really going for the win!’
Once understanding is established, acceptance follows quickly.
The move where Kang Gi-yeon and Jeong Seong-bin bumped backs represented the tension between teams, while Lee Cheong-hyeon’s blown kiss gesture evoked a scoring celebration.
Choreography that might be overlooked at first glance looks different to someone who knows the background.
I made it so that the entire song looked like a single match. Because in a live vote, there are no replays.
And the final tactic to capture the live reaction:
Pouring everything into the vocals.
As we entered the third verse, the music climbed toward its peak.
We mixed in the sounds of applause and cheers fit for a final match and cranked up the bass to give the sensation of a thumping heartbeat.
『Can you hear it?
The revelation and the prayer.』
Kang Gi-yeon laid down the base notes. I layered my voice over his.
『O, traveler,
Do you desire the throne?』
Instruments and effects built up alongside the rising pitch, creating a festival-like atmosphere. The sharp, metallic tang of the instruments and electronic sounds reminiscent of heat blurred together in a dizzying mix.
『My answer remains,
Unchanging, as it is.』
Next, Jeong Seong-bin pushed to the center of the stage.
The audience was likely facing Seong-bin’s overwhelming expression and his voice, which carried that raw emotion directly to them.
And as the music reached its crescendo...
Park Ju-woo, his aggression dialed to the max, stepped to the front.
『I shall claim it,
The honor.』
A high note, sharp as a spear, pierced through the speakers.
Honestly, was there even a need to call this a 'tactic'?
To get points for a performance, you obviously have to sing well.
More than anything, the reason sports are fun is...
『The future I dreamed of!』
...because they make people go wild. In an instant.
With the sound of shoe soles skidding against the gym floor, our frugal sportsmanship stage came to an end.
Sweat mixed with exhilaration dripped onto the stage. Real applause, not the kind we had inserted during the arrangement phase, filled the venue.
The scene of the live vote announcement was silent. It was hard to believe it was the same place where the audience had been just moments ago.
We had to stand huddled together on stage until Yur arrived.
Everyone was breathing heavily, but their faces were glowing. It seemed everyone had been diligent with their touch-up makeup. I didn't even want to know how much powder we’d used to hide the sweat.
Taking advantage of the time before the cameras started rolling, I was fixing Jeong Seong-bin’s bangs to make his forehead look even better when someone approached us.
“Um, hello!”
It was Moon Yeon-gyu, the leader of Berion. His stage name was On-ha.
Naturally, since they were our seniors, we bowed 90 degrees in greeting without hesitation.
On-ha looked flustered and told us we didn't need to go that far. Then, with an awkward smile, he spoke.
“The Spark members... your stage was so good. I just wanted to come by and say I really enjoyed it...”
“Really? Thank you, sunbaenim!”
Jeong Seong-bin said, shaking the right hand On-ha had extended.
“We really enjoyed your stage as well. It was amazing!”
Standing next to Seong-bin, I added a word of my own. On-ha looked embarrassed, then quickly scurried back to Berion’s spot, saying he’d see us at the next broadcast.
That was unexpected. I didn't think any group would want to get close to Spark.
Or was it because Spark had only given extra points to Berion?
Could someone really approach us so readily for a reason like that? Come to think of it, I believe that On-ha guy was only twenty years old.
If you judge others based on superficial glimpses, you might end up being greatly deceived.
I silently prayed that the hardships of the world wouldn't blow too harshly against Berion.
And right on cue, Yur entered, holding a ranking sheet that promised to be harsher than any worldly hardship.