Chapter 121: 2nd Competition: Concerto
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 121: 2nd Competition: Concerto
Thanks to Kang Gi-yeon’s hard work, Spark secured the sixth slot in the lineup.
The glasses I’d ordered looked perfect on Park Ju-woo, and the clothes from Jeong Seong-jun were of such high quality that they were a breeze to style.
‘How on earth am I supposed to keep this newsboy cap in place?’
‘You’ll probably need at least twenty bobby pins.’
Aside from the fact that Jeong Seong-bin was forced into wearing the cap and nearly had his hair ripped out by my hands in the process, everything was going well.
I’d never heard such random TMI before. It wasn’t like Spark had ever performed with hats on stage until now.
With the relentless barrage of texts from Yu Han-su finally dying down, I was able to prepare with a much lighter heart.
Of course, the process wasn't entirely smooth.
The face of Lee Cheong-hyeon—Spark’s greatest treasure—had lost its luster, drained by exhaustion.
‘Cheong-hyeon, I’m going to need twice as much of your talent this time.’
‘Why?’
‘Because we need sampling.’
The concept for this stage was a "nerd scientist" obsessed with the night sky.
The styling was also designed to evoke a research enthusiast captivated by the beauty of the galaxies and stars, obsessively digging into his work.
The problem lay in the inherent image of a "scholar quietly immersed in research."
Unlike a bubbly rookie idol or a high-energy athlete, this concept leaned toward a more static, quiet vibe.
Going for a "mad scientist" would have strayed too far from the planning intent and lacked that "youthful" feel, so I decided to elevate the musical quality instead.
‘Sampling? With what song?’
‘That’s for you to decide.’
‘Huh?’
‘You’re the expert when it comes to classical music.’
Specifically, sampling classical music.
The song they were covering, Hellas’s Starlight, was a B-side ballad about whispering love quietly under the night sky.
While not flashy, it had a beautiful melody and decent lyrics, making it a relatively well-known track for a B-side.
My goal was to add a layer of musicality that would enhance its classical beauty, an almost obsessive level of precision, and a dreamlike atmosphere. If the sampling went well, we could kill three birds with one stone.
I might not know much about classical music, but Lee Cheong-hyeon was different. Wasn't he the guy who used to do nothing but play the piano all day?
Besides, it wasn't like he had switched genres because he hated classical music. There was no reason for him to hesitate.
‘You know the planning intent and the concept. The song we’re covering is set. Do you need anything else?’
‘No, I just thought you’d already picked the song to sample, Hyung. You hate it when variables pop up.’
‘You’re the arranger, so you’d know best. Whatever choice you make will be the best one.’
What had Lee Cheong-hyeon said in response to that? I couldn't remember.
Regardless, Cheong-hyeon had thrown himself into the work with a vengeance from the very start of the preparation period.
As a result, he looked like death warmed over. And after I’d told him so many times to take care of his face.
No matter how much people say a handsome guy looks like a "sunshine hottie" when he’s energized and a "tragic beauty" when he’s haggard, this was too much. What was the point of the song and choreography being beautiful if the face wasn't?
I pressed a glucose candy into Lee Cheong-hyeon’s hand.
And in my head, I chanted a magic spell.
Become beautiful...
“Oh, the Sticky sunbaenims are doing an Oriental concept too!”
Jeong Seong-bin reacted as he watched Sticky’s recorded performance. On the screen, Sticky was opening their intro by unfurling fans.
That made this the third Oriental-themed stage today. The concepts ranged from battles for the throne to sword dances by military officials. I guess Hanboks really were the gold standard for survival programs.
Parte’s performance today was also magnificent.
They all came out in Hanboks embroidered with gold thread, showcasing perfectly synchronized action sequences and group choreography. Their charisma was jaw-dropping.
It seemed Han Ga-un had received a fair amount of parts, as his vocals were placed perfectly throughout the song.
He looked so different that I couldn't even picture him as the guy who had been trying to hold Song Min-il back under the Han River bridge.
Plus, the swords looked incredibly real. The way they reflected the stage lights was sharp and chilling.
Yeah, if you’re going to do a performance, it should be like that.
While I was impressed inwardly, I spoke calmly on the outside.
“If you really look at it, we’re 'Oriental Retro' too.”
“I don’t know. This feels more like Steampunk to me.”
Kang Gi-yeon didn't agree with me. But everyone looked good in their outfits, so it was fine.
And it couldn't be helped. We weren't military officials; we were civil scholars.
“Has Sticky sunbaenims' stage started?! I want to see too!”
Lee Cheong-hyeon, who had been getting touch-up makeup at the far end of the waiting room, came running over with a shout.
His face was literally glowing.
I mean, physically glowing.
“What happened to your face?”
Glitter was sprinkled across his pale skin like sparkling jewels.
He’d even put on colored contacts to create a specific impression, making him look practically non-human. You really worked hard, magic glucose candy.
It was strange, really. We were both wearing sparkling colored lenses, but why did I look like I had snake eyes while he looked like California sunshine?
Lee Cheong-hyeon, looking as fresh as a newly picked orange, cupped his face in his hands and said, “The glitter is amazing, right? The concept for Cheong-hyeon’s face today is 'Diamond Mine'!”
“Give me the mining rights. I want to burn it all down.”
“I figured you’d say that, so I set aside the exclusive development rights just for you, Hyung-nim.”
“Good.”
Choi Je-ho watched us from a distance with an expression that said, 'Look at these two.' It didn't have much impact coming from a guy wearing overall shorts.
While everyone else was flaunting their beauty, Kang Gi-yeon alone was quiet. With a slightly stiff expression, he just watched Sticky’s performance.
I waited for Sticky’s stage to end before resting a hand on his shoulder. When I gave his shoulder a light squeeze, Kang Gi-yeon flinched.
“Don’t worry. We can do this.”
“…….”
“As long as I don’t trip and fall off the stage in the middle of the performance, that is.”
“That would be a major accident, though….”
Kang Gi-yeon let out a hollow laugh, as if he found me ridiculous.
But I was being serious.
Unless a disaster of that magnitude happened, Spark would be able to take first place. Truly.
Lee Cheong-hyeon had put in an agonizing amount of effort to prepare for the second competition.
It was all because of the mission Kim I-wol had dropped on him immediately after the concept was finalized.
‘Because we need sampling.’
The original song was a ballad, the direction of the arrangement was a light dance track, the theme to express was pure academic passion and joy, and the means was classical music.
Everything was clear, but progress didn't come easily.
A few candidate songs came to mind, but none of them felt right. Every piece felt slightly lacking.
He couldn't even get a sense of how to arrange it.
To Lee Cheong-hyeon, "interpretation of a song" meant being free but never straying from the sheet music.
But now, he was trying to break a song down into measures, or even individual notes, and stitch them here and there. Such an act felt less like a challenge and more like he was destroying something.
Does this hyung trust me too much? He often had that thought.
But at the same time, he remembered his family, who hadn't trusted him at all.
The family who told him that if he liked music so much, he should stick to classical—that they would concede that much.
So, for a few years, he had enjoyed playing the piano.
He was immersed, and he enjoyed every moment. He was happy.
As he grew older and his horizons broadened, the music Lee Cheong-hyeon could access increased.
There were songs other than classical, and they were either not as good as the piano pieces he played, or they were far more addictive.
His world grew wider and wider.
To Lee Cheong-hyeon’s eyes, music was like the ocean—endlessly vast and mysterious.
Lee Cheong-hyeon literally loved music. All music.
He enjoyed playing instruments, singing, putting rap over a beat, or even just listening.
However, to his parents, what mattered was what kind of music Lee Cheong-hyeon played and in front of what kind of people.
In that moment, a fixed route was set for Lee Cheong-hyeon’s ocean.
Every day, at a set time, he steered a luxury cruise ship hosting a gala party, circling the same path alone. Until the illuminated sea was dyed black by the darkness.
On the day he stepped off that ship despite all the opposition, Lee Cheong-hyeon thought it would take a long time before he could return to the sea.
Until one day, his roommate hyung suddenly announced he was hiring him as a "composing machine."
Back then, Kim I-wol had even snatched away the map Lee Cheong-hyeon had been clutching like a lingering attachment and said:
‘Is it wrong to expect things from a young and brilliant talent?’
It was a strange thing to say. His family had always asked him how much longer he was going to keep making stupid choices.
Kim I-wol wasn't kind like his parents. Lee Cheong-hyeon couldn't board a luxury cruise ship, nor could he choose to go only to calm waters.
All Lee Cheong-hyeon was given was a raft that looked like it would sink after ten meters and a crude oar Kim I-wol had carved for him.
Lee Cheong-hyeon looked at that boat and thought:
Which sea should I go to?
What am I going to the sea for?
I am….
And quite ridiculously.
Every time he tried to sink just a little deeper into these thoughts.
‘Whatever choice you make will be the best one.’
Because Kim I-wol told him to hurry up and set sail, making it impossible for him not to head toward the ocean.
Lee Cheong-hyeon had no choice but to move forward. Aboard his small boat, with the help of his small oar.
Kim I-wol did nothing else besides handing him a new boat. Because the only thing Kim I-wol required of Lee Cheong-hyeon was for him to cross the sea.
So, Lee Cheong-hyeon decided to attach a flag to his humble boat.
A flag representing what kind of music he should make.
Why he was creating songs to be heard.
No matter where he traveled, he would always hold onto the answer that encompassed it all.
From the speakers, Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 5 began to flow.