Level Up (2)
“Eek? This is our schedule?”
“More practice again.”
“We finally escaped trainee life, so why are we still stuck in the practice room?”
We stared at the schedule sheet handed over by Manager Executive Noona in utter despair.
But that was that, and we still needed to talk about our next activities.
“Executive Noona, how’s our next promotion shaping up?”
“Curious, huh?”
“Yes!!”
“Hehe, you cute little things. The original plan was a single. But your reactions have been so good that it might turn into a mini-album if things go well.”
“Whoa!”
“Mini! Mini! Mini!”
“Noona! What’s the concept?”
“You guys are super hyped, aren’t you?”
“Of course we are!”
“Even after seeing the practice schedule?”
“Hehe, I’ll just dump that on future me.”
The members were losing their minds over the mention of a mini-album.
We’d debuted with a full album right out of the gate, backed by the company’s massive funds. But that was out of step with current trends.
These days, even good songs got consumed like disposable products—listened to a few times and forgotten. That’s why most agencies stuck to singles with 1-2 tracks instead of full albums packed with songs. Even when full albums dropped, people only listened to the title track anyway.
“You know what it means when the company invests like this, right?”
Ki Uyeon nodded innocently at Manager Executive Noona’s words. “We do.”
“It’s an investment on a scale that wouldn’t fly domestically. We have to blow up overseas. If it turns into a mini-album, you confident you can nail it?”
“Of course we’re confident!”
“Please believe in us. We can do it.”
The other members were totally buying into her words, begging for the mini-album greenlight.
‘It’s obvious they’ve already decided on the mini-album, but these naive kids are wagging their tails without a clue.’
I got that it was a skill for handling energetic young guys, but being the target didn’t sit right.
“Alright, fine. I’ll push hard for the mini-album then.”
“Waaah!! Thank you!”
“Executive Noona’s the best!”
“Yes! Mini-album!”
Even the usually reserved Kang Jun’s face flushed red with joy at the promise.
“Will you be getting tracks from outside composers again?”
“Tracks? Why bring that up out of nowhere?”
“It seems like the concept isn’t set yet, so we talked among ourselves about maybe trying something like this.”
Jeki cautiously pulled out a notepad with the members’ ideas scribbled down and handed it to her.
“What’s this? You actually came up with stuff like this? Good job~”
She took it like a parent receiving a love letter from their kid at school.
‘I can already see that notepad’s fate.’
She’d read it, sure. But it wouldn’t stick in her head long. It’d just be an “aww, cute kids” moment.
Jeki, still a 19-year-old kid, seemed optimistically sure that handing it over meant she’d take it seriously.
I couldn’t stay silent. “We’re young and don’t know much about the industry, but we’ve trained long enough to have our own ambitions. So please look at it seriously.”
“...Huh? Oh… y-yeah? Got it. I’ll review it properly.”
My serious tone made her sense the shift in vibe, and she adjusted her attitude. She’d caught that I didn’t want it dismissed as kid stuff.
And her gaze toward me changed just a bit.
‘Whatever.’
I shot back her stare with a sulky one.
She gave an awkward smile and said to us, “Practice hard. You know the fans are hyped, right?”
“Yessir!”
“We will!”
The clueless ones were touched that she’d promised to review the notepad seriously. They were all more skilled than me anyway. What more did they want?
‘You’re already top-tier among idols. Isn’t that enough?’
As the one chasing them, their rapid growth was a problem—if they pulled too far ahead, I’d be left behind. Sure, I had trusty coins, so it was just a hassle, not emotional baggage.
“...This is my schedule? Isn’t it way different from the others’?”
Well, maybe a little emotional. She’d called me aside secretly and handed me a paper with my special schedule.
“Everything but gym time is gonna be intense. Might hurt your pride, but you are behind the others in singing and dancing.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Don’t take it too hard.”
“Not hurt at all. It’s the truth. Why beat around the bush? I appreciate the care, but no need to worry. I know I’ve got the shortest training period.”
My cool reaction eased her cautious demeanor, and she sighed in relief.
“These things hit pride hard, so I had to tread lightly. Pretty boys really do have sweet personalities. I mentioned this before, but your face is your skill. Got it?”
I did. I’d felt the destructive power of this face bone-deep during the photoshoot with May Lin. Photos so potent I almost caught narcissism. If I hadn’t been annoyed at thinking that about a guy’s face, I’d have taken longer to delete them.
“Got it.”
“Haha, now you’re getting cheeky. Rookie vibes fading fast.”
She laughed heartily, looking pleased.
“Practice while they practice, practice while they rest, practice while they gym too.”
“You said you manage your body well on your own. No need to lose weight—in fact, a little padding looks better—so I minimized your gym slots.”
“Good call. I think so too. Not like I gain weight easily.”
Body management was coin territory anyway. No need to waste time overdoing gym.
“You’ll be on a healthy diet, not the strict one.”
“Totally handing it over to you guys.”
“We’re not that harsh. Rookies don’t know squat, so we push hard to protect them.”
“Yep. Thanks for caring.”
Damn. I’d been cocky with my coin stash, but today showed I still had a ways to go. The dedicated team was scheming to patch my holes for the next album…
‘If they want it that bad, I’ll live up to expectations.’
Time for spec-up—no, level-up.
A month into serious practice, the mini-album details solidified.
August 9th. We’d make our mini-album comeback with a fresh look.
Early June now. Three months of prep, and the album’s polish was climbing daily.
“Recording last, maybe? Your skills improve daily—if we do it now, it’ll sound totally different by comeback. Not just Haesol; everyone’s surging.”
The producer handling this mini-album hyped us up. But the praise didn’t embarrass or burden me.
My singing had skyrocketed this month, even by my standards.
This album added a high-difficulty track beyond the main one to show off skills—Jeki’s composition, the one the PD just mentioned delaying.
“Jeki. Your thoughts? It’s your song, so yours matter most.”
“Thanks for asking. Yeah, let’s push this one back.”
“See? No amount of trainee practice beats growth during promotions. You’ve all improved tons.”
“But you’ll yell if we start recording and can’t do anything else.”
“Duh. Why settle for good when we can make great? Can’t waste potential on your current levels. Hone it sharp. Haha!”
Producer Chan Jeongyeon laughed booming, scratched his shiny head, and continued.
“But seriously, what’s your secret? Boiled tonics? Debut experience helps, but this is unreal.”
“Uh… love for fans, rival fandom stares, and competitive fire?”
“That’s the secret?”
“Yep.”
He was shocked not just that there was a secret, but that it was something so unexpected.
But Jeki was right. Not wanting to disappoint fans fueled harder practice. Rival fans’ jealous glares post-comeback kept anxiety and drive sharp. Plus, members said they were spooked by my growth pace.
“For real.”
“Hyung’s skills from a month ago vs. now? Night and day. Watching that makes us antsy. Can’t slack if he’s lapping us.”
“I’m the weakest, and you’re hounding me this hard? Consider I’m catching up too, you jerks.”
I had to chime in. These punks weren’t respecting elders—they were attacking them.
“No way! Hyung’s got looks. But if skills match too?”
“Haha! Eungyu’s right. Haesol’s visual perfection—add skills, and yeah, we’d panic.”
“Ugh, recording done? Gotta practice.”
“Yeah, yeah. Held you too long. Go. Others?”
“No schedules after. But practice calls. Can’t let Haesol-hyung catch us.”
“Haesol’s working hard.”
“Appreciate you noticing. Time’s short—see ya. Thanks for your work.”
I left the booth for the practice room.
Steps to practice usually dragged, but today they were light.
Knock knock knock.
“Teacher here?”
“Come in.”
Opening the door, I saw the familiar woman—white tank top, leggings—stretching.
Why did my vocal coach always stretch? I knew she loved working out, but…
Squish!
“Teasing me by exercising when I show up, or do you flaunt this to other guys too?”
“Eek! Yaa~!”
“Spill. Shake that ass seducing other men?”
“Nooo!! Who else but you’s here?”
“Hng, for real?”
“Yes, really.”
To verify Boksun Noona’s words, inspection was needed.
Inspection, of course, as foreplay to sex.
“Gotta check to believe. Panties off too.”
“Door locked?”
“Duh. Not our first rodeo.”
“Worried that little bitch Ahyun pops up like last time.”
My secret meets with Boksun Noona, cut off during debut promo, had resumed.