Level Up (10)
Jelly Nyang's ironclad grip on the number one spot was an impregnable fortress. And Airplane's fans—the ones who'd taken to calling themselves Wing—knew that all too well.
Still, humans gonna human. Sometimes you just have to stubbornly push forward, even knowing it's a fool's errand.
"We can't give up! Look at our boys!! They sing amazingly!! They dance like pros!! And their faces? Insane!!"
The Wings hustled hard, promoting like crazy. Their visuals drew good reactions, but that same appeal pulled in tons of aggro, turning plenty of folks into antis.
Jealousy, envy, wariness, and malice all bundled up into hate comments.
Bam!
"That's not true!!! Our boys have real skills!!"
They were rookies without a proper stage to show off yet. But people assumed that good looks meant trash skills, even without knowing jack. Was there anything more frustrating?
"Which agency are they even from? You can't knock their skills!!"
Anyone who knew the industry even a little knew Honey Enter was picky about both visuals and talent. And since this anti had wandered into the idol community, they damn well knew it too. That's what made it so infuriating—they were maliciously twisting the knife anyway.
Blood pressure spiking from the hate, the Wings gritted their teeth, collected the worst offenders, and forwarded them to the agency. Honey Enter might hit back with lawsuits someday.
One day, while desperately streaming Airplane's new track to vent their frustration, a miracle happened.
"Gasp!! What the hell??"
They clicked without much thought, and holy shit—the male idols in question were Airplane!!
"Aaaah!!! How did I miss this live??"
They looped the video like maniacs. Down to the nanosecond. Soon, an even higher-quality version dropped, and the community exploded.
"This is it. This is the one!"
The Wings had a gut feeling. With this video out, Airplane was finally taking off. The real rise to stardom had begun.
？？？
"Great stage. You guys were incredible."
"How do you dance like that? High notes popping off perfectly, pitch rock-solid. Jealous~ Must be the youth."
"Thank you!"
"As expected from Honey Enter. No flaws in skills."
"Thank you!"
The community was buzzing, and as we headed to the waiting room for our music show debut, the staff eyes on us had changed. Before, busy folks wouldn't even return our 90-degree bows. Today? They were approaching us first.
So that's what they mean by "once you're famous, even shitting gets applause."
"Treatment's night and day from last time. Feels so awkward."
Ki Uyeon wiggled his fingers to show his unease. We were all weirded out by the 180.
"That's the industry for ya. Once they smell potential, they kiss ass like crazy. That's why rookies get star fever."
"Whoa. So they'll keep sucking up like this?"
"For now, yeah. But listen up—this attitude flip isn't the end. These people can switch back anytime. They'll grovel while you're hot, but slip once? They'll treat you worse than before."
Manager Noona laid out the harsh truth to us huddled rookies. Her words rang true after today's overnight change.
Someone who'd flipped once could do it again, no question.
"Don't go grinning like idiots thinking their babying is real. Eighty percent of their words are lies. They act all supportive upfront, but inside? Desperate to leech off your popularity. Trust in this biz? Doesn't exist. Trust no one. Don't get used—use them to survive."
"……."
"……."
Her words sent chills down our spines. We'd been thrilled all day by the polite greetings, the "human" treatment from staff. Heads held high, hearts fluttering with "Are we stars now?!" vibes.
"Noona always drops these buzzkills right when we're hyped…."
"This is advice that'll save your asses, kiddos! Burn it into your hearts, don't let it go in one ear and out the other."
"Yess~!"
"Got it!"
Honey Enter had pull, but we were still rookies—no solo waiting rooms. Pushing for one could piss off staff, so we played it safe.
"Hello!"
"Greetings, seniors!! We're Rain, here to quench your souls!"
Inside, nervous rookies in black stage outfits stiffened up. Male idols were rare, so our eyes naturally went to Rain.
"Whoa~ We're already seniors?"
"Still not used to it."
"They look super tense. Hope they're okay."
"Shaking like leaves. Reminds me of our debut—heart's pounding now too."
Today's debut boy group, Rain. It dragged up our own debut nerves: tension, fear, excitement, thrill. Memories flooding back, bodies buzzing.
"Uh… good luck out there. Debut stage."
"Gasp! Thank you!!"
Freshly debuted, they bowed 90 degrees with perfect manners. Made us pity them a bit—we were like that once.
'Hope they make it. They all look so young.'
Bad to root for rivals? But seeing them quake stirred sympathy. No mistakes, please.
Our slot was after, so Rain filed out en masse.
"Hyung! That rookie boy group from earlier? They're on stage—wanna sneak a peek?"
"Their stage?"
"Yeah. Nostalgic, and I wanna cheer 'em on."
"Hope it's cool to watch."
"Just us two, quiet-like?"
"Hm, sure."
Curiosity aligned with Uyeon; we slipped out. Dodging busy staff, we hid near the stage edge.
"No one'll spot us here."
"Starting right on cue."
A punchy beat blasted—club-level intense, ears ringing. Cameras rolled, dance kicked off.
Not bad. Summer-vibe energy track. Crisp lyrics fitting the name. Vocals stretched with auto-tune help.
"Ooh—"
Thud!!
"Gasp!"
"Eek!"
One member crashed hard. His arm flailed, toppling the guy next—domino effect. Formation wrecked, mistake spread.
"Cut! Cut! What the hell!! This ain't a joke!!!"
A roar fiercer than a tiger's exploded.
Uyeon startled, ducking behind me.
"Oh man, chaos! What now?"
"They're gonna get reamed…."
Rain deflated, heads bowed to the floor in apology. Their manager lady rushed in.
"…Let's head back."
"Y-yeah. Don't wanna catch strays."
Gawking at fires needs the right vibe. Debut disaster like that? Rocky road ahead.
"Airplane, come on out and wait."
"Yes!!"
After confirming Rain's flop, we returned. They shuffled back later, heads down, some bawling—mentals shattered.
Our members, briefed, sat tense as thorns. Staff call let us escape.
"Phew, thought I'd suffocate."
"No mistakes for us. Got it?"
"Gotta nail that vibe from the beach."
"Focus up!!"
"Hands in."
Pre-stage huddle, hands stacked for fighting spirit. Kid stuff, but it bonded us—teamwork glue.
"Airplane, time to fly! Aja aja! Fighting!"
"““““Fighting!”””””
Positions set. In-ears fed our familiar track. World faded—stage only.
'That feeling's still there, but….'
One legendary stage under our belts? This one felt off. Moves not as fluid. Why's it harder now? Something teasingly out of reach. Throat parched for no reason.
And then—
Thud!
We'd heard it once today already. Not on our stage too!
Quick recovery, dance resumed. Good.
'Who?'
Side-eye: Uyeon grinning, limping.
'Uyeon's the one!'
No further slips; stage cleared.
Post-stage, we checked him.
"Uyeon, you okay?"
"Ugh! Fine~ Sorry!!"
Fresh off Rain's scare, he bowed to staff preemptively. We followed suit—might get yelled at like rookies.
"“Sorry!!”"
"Foot alright?"
The PD who'd thundered at Rain approached—with worry, not rage.