Chapter 146: 4th Competition: Final Results (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 146: 4th Competition: Final Results (2)
『Some stories become history
Everyone pays heed
To the sacred』
There was something ethereal about Park Ju-woo’s gestures.
The way his hands swept over his face, neck, and sleeves was fluid and elegant.
Until now, Spark’s choreography had always been dynamic and refreshing. Whether it was the razor-sharp angles that remained perfect no matter when the frame was frozen or the sheer intensity where no member held back, their energy was always vivid on any stage.
In contrast, this performance showcased a more refined control of dynamics. While there weren't many explosive movements, all five members moved in perfect unison. They flowed, quite literally, like water.
The Hanbok, crafted from a material resembling silk, showed perfectly uniform pleats at the waist as they moved. Director Han did not miss that detail.
While the members lowered their posture for the next move, Choi Je-ho emerged from the center.
『Footprints left in the snow,
Failures born of challenge,
Remain unforgotten
A long tale told every day』
To the beat of Choi Je-ho’s solo dance, Spark gathered in the center before spreading across the stage. This formation made Choi Je-ho stand out even more.
And as Choi Je-ho’s part neared its end, the moment Kang Gi-yeon stepped beside him—
Choi Je-ho pulled Kang Gi-yeon into a half-embrace, covering Gi-yeon’s mouth with his hand.
Kang Gi-yeon smiled as he pulled Choi Je-ho’s hand down.
His downcast gaze met the camera with a mysterious intensity, and the corners of his mouth curled up with a hint of bitterness.
『How will we
Be written here?
Does my name
Remain, or drift away?』
The soft atmosphere of the first verse grew firmer as it transitioned into the second.
Lee Cheong-hyeon took charge of this shift.
During breaks or in the dorm footage, Lee Cheong-hyeon was no different from any other boy his age, but on stage, he possessed a singular charisma.
While none of the Spark members lacked presence on stage, the gap was particularly pronounced with Lee Cheong-hyeon.
If he had raged like a mad dog in the previous performance, this time he exuded the aura of a noble orchid, reminiscent of a dignified Sungkyunkwan scholar.
Lee Cheong-hyeon performed his part while gently fluttering a fan—though no one saw when or from whom he had received it.
Then, as the second verse drew to a close, Lee Cheong-hyeon snapped the fan shut with a sharp clack...
“Whoa!”
From in front, behind, and both sides of Director Han, screams erupted—the kind that only come from genuine shock.
Damp hair, dark grey eyes that seemed to match Park Ju-woo’s, and skin so pale it looked exceptionally luminous.
『Let me tell it
For I, too
Have words I wish to leave behind』
It was Kim I-wol, an appearance no one in the audience could have predicted. A radiant smile bloomed on his moisture-beaded face.
After finishing his short part, Kim I-wol moved to the back of the formation.
But the impact was massive.
The mere fact that the formation was now balanced with six members provided a sense of stability unlike before.
It was a strange thing. It wasn't as if the previous five had made mistakes or lacked ability.
The following group choreography was the absolute pinnacle of splendor.
It almost felt like an illusion, as if they were saying, “It’s not that we couldn't do ‘flashy’ before! We just didn't have the chance!”
The scale expanded instantly as a troupe of backup dancers, numbering at least twenty, joined in.
Precise movements were repeated in sync with the massive flow.
Among the backup dancers wearing Hanbok with irregular black patterns on a white background, the members of Spark in their teal Hanbok stood out vividly.
‘They look like plants blooming on a snowy mountain.’
It was a sensory thought, befitting a filming director.
Fluid movements, like rolling waves, followed in a staggered sequence.
Walking through the center, Jeong Seong-bin began to sing again.
『Write our story
Let me be
A part of it
Just like this moment』
Most of the stages shown on Idol Dynasty Annals so far had dealt with themes of struggle, conquest, and the throne.
It was only natural. The program’s title was Idol Dynasty Annals, after all.
Nevertheless, Spark had run toward the goal of the process itself rather than just claiming the throne.
And now, they were transcribing those past sentiments exactly as they were.
Is the story of one who failed to become king not important?
Does a story simply vanish if no one sees or hears it?
Is it only right for the story of those who never stood in the spotlight to be buried?
They were answering someone who might harbor such questions.
They would remember. Because that is the role of the chronicler.
Looking at it this way, it was clear why the PD had wanted this to be Spark’s final stage.
The theme of Idol Dynasty Annals is the growth story of idols striving to become kings. The program itself is the record of that growth.
And here, Spark was volunteering to be the chroniclers themselves. Could there be a stage that better represented the identity of Idol Dynasty Annals?
‘And it’s not even just about this show...’
Director Han, who had seen countless idol stages with meaningful messages embedded in the lyrics over the years, could tell.
If you listened to Spark’s song from a slightly different angle, a new interpretation emerged.
Beings who are always in the spotlight.
Those who constantly watch them and record their every move.
The people who want to be with them without being torn apart.
Doesn't it bring something to mind?
‘In the end, it really is the “Idol” Dynasty Annals.’
It was very Spark-like to create a stage the production team couldn't possibly pass up while ensuring they looked out for their own interests. It was clever.
Furthermore, they were claiming they would turn this into history. Their ambition was truly something else.
The music swelled toward its peak, reaching the highlight.
『It’s okay to stumble
Even if it’s a failure
I want it to be seen
So it can be brought back to mind』
『Pressing my heart into the page
So it can be unfolded
After the long night ends』
Director Han captured the main vocals on camera as they faced each other, delivering high notes and ad-libs.
There is a common saying in the industry: if a team has two or more main vocals with distinct vocal colors, that team will succeed.
In that sense, Spark was likely the team with the highest vocal proficiency among all the participants in Idol Dynasty Annals.
With the main vocals hitting every note perfectly while performing intense choreography, and every other member handling their parts flawlessly, what director wouldn't adore these kids?
The music grew even richer as traditional instruments were subtly woven in. The balance between the instruments was delicately adjusted until it reached a certain point.
Choi Je-ho took a leap in time with a brief silence.
According to the rehearsal, ‘that’ was coming up.
Director Han sharpened his focus to the limit. If he stayed exactly where he was during the rehearsal, he might miss it this time.
Choi Je-ho performed a roundoff, bracing the stage with both hands.
The moment his feet touched the ground, he used the momentum to spring high into the air.
His neatly tailored vest drew a large circle in the air.
‘Is that a flash kick?’
The angle at which he kicked the air was a work of art. The movement traced a perfect arc, combined with high-level jumping power and a long hang time. It was flawless.
We live in a world where idols are expected to excel at foreign languages, gaming, and art beyond just singing and dancing. There were plenty of idols who could perform acrobatics.
But the reason Choi Je-ho was special was...
‘I don't know, he just is.’
Doesn't everyone encounter someone like that in life? Someone who commands attention just by existing.
Choi Je-ho was that kind of person. Every single movement was so perfect it took one's breath away, creating the illusion that even his clothes and hair were dancing along with him.
Even if he hadn't gained popularity now, Choi Je-ho was the type who would have made it big eventually. Director Han had seen many such people finally get recognized through the magic of a "chart reversal."
Given that he had made such a strong start, Choi Je-ho would likely walk a flowery path from here on out, barring any unforeseen disasters.
The vocals, having reached their peak, began to subside as Choi Je-ho’s solo dance concluded.
As the backup dancers gathered in the center of the stage, turning their backs and bowing their heads, the black patterns on the backs of their Hanbok formed a single shape.
The five members of Spark had also blended into the black letters.
Choi Je-ho’s low voice settled deeply over the stage floor.
『Now I
Remain as a trace
Eternal
For a long, long time』
Choi Je-ho, who had been kneeling, slowly raised his head.
Then he turned and walked back. To his empty spot.
Finally, the character for ‘Record’ (錄) was completed on the white canvas.
It was a perfect conclusion.
‘Yang PD is going to be so gutted that this wasn't the final stage of the night.’
Director Han thought as he adjusted the camera angles to follow where the Spark members would be standing on the darkened stage.
But moving as it was, business was business.
Director Han had work to do. There was still Spark’s interview, two more stages, two more interviews, and the final ranking announcement left.
Just as he was hoping the broadcast would turn out well, the lights came back on.
He was adjusting the camera angle again to catch the upper bodies of the Spark members gathered for the interview when his radio erupted with noise.
Urgent voices and a chaotic atmosphere.
The audience was murmuring.
Director Han looked up to check the stage.
The Spark members, who had been gathering at the front of the stage, were rushing toward Kim I-wol, who had collapsed in the corner.
Radios crackled with conflicting orders to switch the angle to Yur and to avoid filming the audience.
While a staff member carried Kim I-wol off on his back, Yur skillfully led the juniors.
Only then did Director Han remember a fact he had briefly overlooked.
Though his complexion had been hidden by makeup, Kim I-wol’s hair had been soaked with cold sweat from the moment he appeared.
And that he was a patient who, not long ago, had suffered an injury requiring eight weeks of recovery.