Chapter 47
Chapter 47
First, the number one spot in the Minus Voting was… predictable.
[1st Place: Choi Won-gil]
‘He’s done for.’
Judging by the editing in Episode 9, unless a miracle occurred, the next ranking announcement would be the last time I’d see him.
The problem started from second place.
[2nd Place: Seon A-hyun]
This was also a predictable rank, honestly. The start of the voting period had perfectly coincided with the peak of the public backlash against Seon A-hyun.
In a way, it was actually for the best. Unlike Choi Won-gil, Seon A-hyun had been attacked so excessively that sympathy for him was already starting to surface.
The general sentiment was shifting toward, “Is Seon A-hyun really bad enough to be 2nd in the Minus Voting?” There was a high probability the atmosphere would flip completely.
Plus, he did well in this team match, so he was in a stable position.
‘He’ll catch the momentum at the very end.’
However, trying to shove this analysis in the face of the person who just got hit with a 2nd place ranking wasn't going to work. Thanks to that, the only thing heard in the living room for dozens of seconds was the sound of the TV.
“…….”
‘If anyone suggests watching the broadcast together again, I’m cutting ties with them. Fuck.’
The atmosphere was killer.
Furthermore, if you looked just below 2nd place, Lee Se-jin B—that is, Keun Se-jin—was in 4th.
It seemed he ended up there because people who felt betrayed on the night his controversy broke dumped their remaining votes on him.
‘Since it was resolved quickly, there will probably be a flood of people giving him votes out of worry instead.’
Sure enough, Keun Se-jin was the first to open his mouth with a smile.
“Ah~ if only our team match had aired, this would’ve flipped instantly, right?”
“I suppose so.”
“I think it will be difficult for it to flip.”
“…?”
Kim Rae-bin, who had suddenly spoken up, muttered some serious nonsense.
‘Are you crazy?’
Keun Se-jin looked at him with eyes that seemed to say exactly that, but Kim Rae-bin pushed on regardless.
“Since we completed this team match successfully, there likely won't be a significant downward trend in the voting percentage.”
“…??”
“…Hey, you… Uh, Rae-bin. You know this is the Minus Voting, right?”
“Yes. …Ah!”
Kim Rae-bin answered Gold 1 with wide, innocent eyes, then let out an exclamation as if he’d just realized something and added an explanation.
“Because Minus Voting also tends to increase in proportion to the general voting percentage.”
Excluding special cases like Choi Won-gil, it was statistically correct. It became a matter of the candidate’s overall voting scale.
“…Oh?”
“That’s true.”
The atmosphere thawed instantly. The participants, recalling the last ranking announcement, realized that Kim Rae-bin’s statement was actually logical.
‘Not a bad way of thinking.’
He lacked communication skills, but he was definitely a useful guy.
Seon A-hyun also relaxed his tension before he knew it, giving appropriate reactions to Gold 1’s banter.
“Heh, then doesn't that mean I'm eliminated? I'm 21st!”
“Hyung-nim! That’s just because you don’t have any antis!”
“T-that’s right.”
Instead of watching the TV screen, which had already switched to commercials, I checked the rankings again on the internet.
[8th Place: Park Moon-dae ▼3]
It was a rank with Cha Yu-jin ahead and Ryu Cheong-woo behind.
And compared to the Minus Vote figures from the last ranking announcement, it seemed I had dropped three places.
‘Should I be happy about this?’
It was hard to analyze.
Unlike Cha Yu-jin or Ryu Cheong-woo, who had never been involved in a controversy, the televised ‘Park Moon-dae’ had been the subject of some gossip.
So it was ambiguous. Was this evidence that the negative public opinion of ‘Park Moon-dae’ had finally subsided, or was it that the overall voting scale for ‘Park Moon-dae’ had shrunk?
‘I hope it’s not a downward trend.’
I thought I had pulled off every stage well so far. Fancam views and mentions were steadily increasing. The problem was that most of the guys sitting around me also had good indicators.
‘…If they were picking about thirteen people, I’d definitely be in the safe zone.’
Since I already knew how many they were picking, I couldn't indulge in that kind of wishful thinking.
I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth and checked the reactions to this episode. There wasn't much of a backlash since Park Moon-dae didn't have much screen time.
It was mostly like this:
I let out a hollow laugh. It was such a ridiculous idea that it was… a bit cute.
‘If I don’t become an idol, I’ll drop dead. What do you mean, trot?’
However, the moment I chuckled and read the next popular post, I got a slight chill.
“…….”
They actually got it right.
Anyway, other than that, there were small talks about liking the Rabbit Class.
And looking a bit deeper, I saw quite a few reactions saying it was a relief I didn't join Cha Yu-jin’s team, the Puppy Class.
Overall, the atmosphere of the posts from people who liked ‘Park Moon-dae’ was like this.
Relief and anticipation that this stage would be good too.
A bit of leeway, thinking he’d probably debut no matter what.
It was good to see people enjoying themselves, but I actually had less certainty than I did during the first team match. It was probably because the finals were right around the corner.
‘I don’t think I’ll have much screen time in this team match.’
I think the stage turned out well. But no matter how I thought about it, the majority of the participants in the <Moon Rabbit> team were better suited for pulling out a storyline than I was.
‘Should I be satisfied with just maintaining my position?’
Anyway, from the middle of the broadcast onward, you’d get hate even if you got too much screen time.
If only one guy in a team comes out like the protagonist? His fans would increase, but it was also easy to draw resentment.
Since broadcast time is limited, if that guy shows up, the guy I like can’t.
And while ‘Park Moon-dae’ had never failed to get screen time, he had never hogged it all for himself either.
I should be satisfied with not giving them any room to find fault. I closed the internet browser with a somewhat lingering sense of regret.
And one week later.
It turned out that this regret was just me counting my chickens before they hatched.
“…??”
Why do I have screen time?
-
Park Moon-dae’s largest anonymous fan community was full of anticipation even before Episode 10 aired.
It was because there was a close-up shot of Park Moon-dae’s upper body in the <Moon Rabbit> team’s performance scene that briefly passed by in the teaser.
Everyone was in a state of extreme excitement over the high-quality content that had come out after ten days.
They were chatting excitedly, and even after Episode 10 started, they continued to talk about Park Moon-dae in a similar fashion.
For 40 minutes, only major news about other participants' teams was posted sporadically.
Finally, the footage for the <Moon Rabbit> team began to air.
People’s attention finally focused on the real-time broadcast.
The <Moon Rabbit> team’s song selection process aired exactly as it was—the "Hopeful Version" of a group project, without much editing.
In fact, the broadcast footage for the <Moon Rabbit> team couldn't help but be heartwarming. There was no conflict material to extract in the first place.
It was thanks to the gathering of participants who had no particular ill will toward each other and knew how to lay low for various reasons.
If there had been footage of the dorm on the night of Keun Se-jin’s school violence controversy, things might have been different, but unfortunately, there was no material because all the dorm cameras had been removed that day due to equipment issues.
So, the production crew had no choice but to broadcast the <Moon Rabbit> team’s smooth sailing.
That was the only route that could provide the pleasure of contrast with the "Despair Version" of a group project, the <Husky> team.
Thanks to that, the fans of the <Moon Rabbit> team participants were able to enjoy a pleasant viewing experience.
The <Moon Rabbit> team was the only one that had properly taken care of every element during the production process.
However, there weren't only advantages.
As the scenes became warmer, the "edge" was lost. And that empty space was filled again with a vague sense of harmony.
For instance, the sight of the <Moon Rabbit> team collapsed from the forced march was portrayed as if they were so close they had no reservations.
The sight of them living like zombies to meet the deadline without proper sleep didn't make it to the broadcast at all. It didn't fit the vibe.
Fortunately, the stage aired with its high level of completion intact.
Thanks to the production process receiving screen time instead of a team story, the viewers were able to intuitively grasp the various elements of the stage, which created an unexpected synergy.
As expected of a stage that had an enormous reaction on-site, the fans watching were naturally pouring out comments without even having to try and control public opinion.
It was just that a faint sense of regret remained because it ended as a stage of model students without anyone receiving a narrative.
The fact that every team member except Park Moon-dae burst into tears as soon as they stepped off the stage was also deleted.
Park Moon-dae’s thought that he wouldn't get screen time was correct.
It was just that, contrary to his prediction that another team member would take the narrative, everyone had simply failed to receive the spotlight together.
Thanks to that, as soon as the last team, <Husky>, aired immediately after, the flood of comments from Park Moon-dae’s fans quickly subsided.
It was at that timing that Park Moon-dae suddenly reappeared on the screen.