Chapter 7
Chapter 7
The trainer for the Advanced Vocal Class was Mudie, one of the judges.
Having given me a generous score during my first evaluation, she tended to offer kind words to the other participants as well. Perhaps because of that, her training style leaned toward encouraging people with gentle advice.
Of course, that didn't mean there were no situations where she lost her temper.
"Won-gil, that’s not it... Sigh."
"……."
The participant, who had been missing the same beat for five days straight, hung his head low.
He seemed to be trying to hide an annoyed expression rather than feeling any actual self-reproach, but it didn't matter to me.
The important thing was that his mistakes were frequent enough that even this good-natured coach was finding it hard to hide her exhaustion.
And here was the culprit.
"Moon-dae. Why don't you try singing this part?"
"Yes."
As I walked forward at the trainer's call, the accompaniment began on the electronic piano.
I naturally handled the pre-chorus section in time with the music.
"Drawing the future like a shooting star~"
As the trainer nodded at the clean sound and precise rhythm, the struggling participant nervously shuffled his feet.
That was the problem. The source of the trouble was that I had sung this theme song too well from the very beginning.
It was inevitable that there would be a difference in the starting point between someone who already knew the song and someone who didn't.
In fact, I had heard the finished version, not just a demo. I could perform it well just by singing based on what I remembered.
To make matters worse, my voice happened to fit this song perfectly. The trainer looked pleased, saying my singing style felt fresh and untainted.
And as they watched Mudie looking satisfied, some of the guys were whispering.
"…He’s really good."
"I know, right?"
In the Advanced Class, where the bar was already high, having a participant who was the epitome of expectations—and an ordinary person at that—must have made the others feel like they were dying.
It was likely even worse for those whose only strength was their vocals.
From what I had seen during the first evaluation, there were two participants with A-grade vocals this season. And both of them were C-grade or lower in dance. Including me, we were all in similar positions.
And that participant currently getting chewed out, 'Choi Won-gil,' was one of those two A-grades.
The funny thing was, this was the same kid who had tried to check my background before filming. He wasn't a middle schooler, but a high school freshman.
Anyway, at an age where one's ego is inflated, it was understandable that he’d be pissed off after hearing this from the trainer for days.
Especially since he was being compared to someone he had looked down on the moment they met.
"That's it!"
As soon as I finished the pre-chorus part, the trainer struck a key as if she felt refreshed. Despite the cheerful sound, Choi Won-gil didn't lift his head.
"Won-gil, do you see how you're supposed to sing this now?"
"……."
Based on his stats, he shouldn't be making mistakes this often. It seemed his mental state had completely shattered after he kept picking fights with me since the first day I cleared the whole song.
Let's see, I think it started something like this on the first day.
—Wow, hyung, I'm glad you got praised for your singing again. You should hurry up and move up from the Basic Dance Class, too!
—I think your voice fits this song well because it has an amateurish, pure feel to it.
He would toss out ambiguous comments that grated on the nerves. It was a subtle nuance where, if the other person got angry, they’d end up looking like the crazy one.
Plus, he said all of it after the microphones were off.
But eventually, it seemed he couldn't contain his irritation, and it escalated to...
—You're really lucky. I'm jealous. That's the most important factor in the entertainment industry, after all. It's a shame you couldn't use luck for your dancing, too. But keep it up!
—I guess it's true that a lucky person beats a hardworking one. Most people here are desperate and putting their lives on the line. But you just happened to join and you're getting such good reviews.
It had reached this level.
Now that he was picking fights so blatantly, it was becoming awkward to just ignore him. But I couldn't exactly pretend not to know what I was doing, so there was nothing I could do.
You might not know, but my life is on the line here, too...
"Let's stay calm, don't be too nervous, and try again."
"……Yes."
Choi Won-gil forced himself to start singing again. And he made another mistake.
Too bad.
Until the vocal class ended that day, I received praise from the trainer and sharp glares from several participants, including Choi Won-gil.
It had been a while since I'd been in an atmosphere where people were sizing each other up like this, so it was tiring, but not bad. If I were a total nobody, they wouldn't even bother keeping tabs on me.
And with the state of both classes remaining the same, my practice achievements steadily piled up until the final day of training arrived.
On the morning of the last day, the participants of the Advanced Vocal Class recorded the audio.
It was going to be a group chorus anyway, and our names wouldn't be specified, so it didn't mean much.
Instead, I decided to focus on the afternoon.
It was time for the long-awaited Grade Evaluation.
The lights on the set flicker on.
"Has everyone been doing well?"
"Ah~ it was so hard!"
"Me too... I was so tired I slept like a log."
"From working so hard to teach them?"
"Exactly! Ah, I hope it was worth it today."
The judges sat around in their chairs, exchanging casual greetings.
They had already greeted each other in the waiting room that morning, but this was a performative conversation for the broadcast's opening scene.
The set they entered was a room designed like a multi-person interview hall.
It was a recycled set from two seasons ago, prepared with a special effect.
The judges, who had been asked beforehand to show as much reaction as possible, spoke naturally as if they knew nothing.
"This place is totally... like that. It feels like we're about to conduct a very important interview."
"It is an important interview~ A grade interview!"
"Is this an interview to join Idol Inc.?"
As soon as the judges finished speaking, the desks in front of their chairs lit up.
"Whoa!"
The words 'SHINE YOUR STAR' flashed on the desks in elegant cursive.
As this season's grand catchphrase revealed itself, the judges began to clap, as they usually did in other seasons.
But this time, surprisingly, the walls began to move.
"Uh, what?!"
"What is this!"
Along with the judges' practiced reactions, the walls of the interview set lowered into the floor. As the walls disappeared, the entire open set was revealed.
Behind the judges, who were turning their heads this way and that, the MC's voice rang out loudly.
"The re-listing of the even newer Idol Inc.! The first hurdle is... a full public evaluation!"
"Whoa!"
Filling the space behind the judges was a seating area like an outdoor theater. And the front rows of those seats were packed with participants.
The contrast between the shocked participants, who thought those were just temporary waiting seats, and the professional MC was stark.
"The 77 participants who practiced the same song will be evaluated with each other as the audience!"
In fact, the participants could see each other's performances during the first evaluation as well.
However, everyone's faces stiffened, perhaps because they didn't expect to be evaluated with people who had practiced the same song over the same period as their audience.
Up until last season, participants had entered the practice room alone for individual evaluations.
"The order of the Grade Evaluation will be by rank, but... in reverse!"
"……!"
"Rank 77, Chu Sung-gu, please come forward!"
The called participant staggered toward the stage, looking half-dead. Sympathetic gazes and whispers poured out, but Park Moon-dae kept his mouth shut.
Just like during Seon A-hyun's first rank evaluation, he had seen enough to know that sympathy could look deceptive depending on the editing.
It was a sense born from his experience of periodically searching idol communities to price filming data.
"Yes. Good job."
"……Thank you……."
Naturally, the 77th-ranked participant messed up most of the first verse and completely botched the evaluation.
"……."
In the cold and anxious atmosphere, the next participant, and the one after that, also half-crushed their performances.
After about five or six people went like that, the judges couldn't hide the discomfort on their faces either.
It was a cruel and vivid arrangement of the order.
But the production crew had nothing to lose.
If they're going to fail anyway, they might as well provide provocative cuts to earn their appearance fee.
They were being used as throwaway cards.
And it was also to highlight others more clearly.
Those who possessed the mental strength to grit their teeth and pull off a performance even in a situation where their spirit might break.
Or participants who showed meaningful growth even during this short period.
There was also the calculation that among the participants with terrible skills, those who were noticeably handsome or already had some recognition wouldn't matter since they hadn't drawn attention with their skills anyway.
Interestingly, there was a participant who satisfied both the former and the latter.
"Participant Lee Se-jin, you must have worked very hard."
"I'm proud of you!"
"Ha, haa, haa.... Thank, you."
It was Lee Se-jin, the former child actor. While barely catching his breath with a beet-red face, he had at least managed to follow the song to the end without letting go.
It was far from enough to be described as 'mastering' it, and it was awkward.
However, because participants of similar rank who had ruined their stages were placed before and after him, he looked much better by comparison.
Park Moon-dae briefly doubted.
Is that the Lee Se-jin who debuts?
Of course, since he couldn't be sure, he immediately finished his thought by adding that participant to his watch list.
I should stay away from druggies.
Then, the tedious evaluation of the middle-tier participants continued.
The participants' skills gradually improved, and occasionally, there were some who stood out.
However, listening to the same song over forty times made it difficult not to get bored.
Once the horrific atmosphere of the beginning had settled and everyone had more or less managed their own skills, the judges also regained their composure and began to feel bored.
"Mmm…."
"Not bad."
It was around the time that boredom reached its peak that it was Park Moon-dae's turn.
Seon A-hyun, with a pale face, raised a fist toward Park Moon-dae. He had a solemn expression.
Having finished his evaluation just before, he had handled the song reasonably well.
"F-f... fighting."
"…? Oh, right."
Why is he suddenly acting friendly?
Though puzzled, Park Moon-dae dutifully returned the greeting. It was a victory for social awareness.
He trudged up onto the stage. The unfamiliar feeling of his head heating up slightly with excitement was strange.
"Rank 22, Park Moon-dae!"
"Yes."
The judges' overall attitude was indifferent.
He'll be good at singing but bad at dancing.
The choreographer, whose expectations for Park Moon-dae had vanished after days of the same routine, even thought a bit bluntly.
I'm starting to get annoyed.
"The Grade Evaluation begins."
The tedious intro began to play.
Park Moon-dae started the first movement. It was a large motion of pulling both arms and turning the body.
"……?"
The first one to feel a sense of incongruity was the choreographer.
His lines are different?
Up until the last face-to-face class just two days ago, Park Moon-dae didn't have anything you could call 'dance lines.'
The sense to match the points of contraction and release, and the points of applying and relaxing strength.
If that was the standard that separated rhythmic movement from dancing, Park Moon-dae's movements had been rhythmic movement.
He definitely was like that, but…….
Why... is he dancing well?