Chapter 141: Desty, Dysty?
141. Desty, Dysty?
A deep purple spotlight swirled across the stage.
The Dysty team trainees stood in their starting positions, hands clasped together with bowed heads.
As soon as the polished hip-hop beat dropped, the trainees simultaneously lifted their heads to catch the rhythm.
Zziiiiiing—!
With the explosive electric guitar riff, the tallest member, Won-ho, abruptly bent forward.
Eun-chan, dressed in a rider jacket and ripped black jeans, used Won-ho's back as a springboard to vault across center stage. His sharp features were accentuated by thick, dark eyelashes and intense eye makeup as he bit his tongue slightly and smirked.
"Deep, Crush, Dive."
Eun-chan whispered the words like a countdown—one, two, three.
The trainees exploded into their performance, matching the rapid-fire beat perfectly.
This pop song—more famous for its short-form challenge remix than the original—shone with its rich instrumental layers over a hip-hop foundation. Since all members were more confident in dance than vocals, Tae-hyun's strategy was to focus on performance using a familiar track.
"Eun-chan's rapping? Wasn't Yuki originally on that part?"
"He was, but they switched after mid-evaluations."
"Why?"
"Memorizing the lyrics was tough. It's English rap, after all."
...The truth was, Yuki's distinctly Japanese English pronunciation made it impossible, forcing the change. But they couldn't say that on camera.
Fortunately, Si-woo seemed to accept the explanation—whether he bought it or just sensed the unspoken truth—and simply nodded without pressing further.
Si-woo and I silently watched the Dysty team's stage through the monitor. Meanwhile, Ha-ru and Gong Seok returned to the waiting room after their interview filming.
"Oh, did their stage start already?"
"Yeah. Hurry up."
As Ha-ru and Gong Seok scrambled to their seats, the Dysty team's performance progressed smoothly. Their choreography reinterpreted the original challenge moves with such intricate detail that it felt entirely fresh.
Dressed in rock-chic outfits, the trainees emphasized individual charisma and dance lines over razor-sharp synchronization. Joo Eun-chan's natural pop vocals and Seo Tae-hyun's stable live singing during the chorus elevated the stage's quality.
"The choreography is really well-structured. The composition's genius."
Since when did he care?
Si-woo was unusually talkative today—especially about another team's performance. And praising their dance, of all things.
Si-woo's dancing wasn't unwatchable, but no one would call him skilled. With enough late-night practice, he could hold his own on stage, but that was it.
Not that anyone would dare criticize him. This was Jung Si-woo—a visual so striking that just walking down a runway would boost the team's popularity, paired with main vocal-level talent.
The fact that he practiced until dawn to pull his weight in dancing deserved gratitude, not complaints. Calling him "bad" wouldn't even register as trolling—it'd just be laughable.
Si-woo, self-aware as ever, knew his limitations. That's why he rarely commented on dance... which made his sudden interest suspicious.
There's no way he's doing this without reason.
As I studied him with narrowed eyes, Si-woo confirmed my suspicions by asking Ha-ru and me a leading question.
"Who choreographed this? Did they do it themselves?"
"Won-ho did! He put it together in like three hours with the team's ideas. Amazing, right?"
"Won-ho's always had a knack for this. Even during Team A, his ideas stood out."
"Right! He explains choreography so clearly too... He's really cool."
Ha-ru, unaware of what happened earlier, grinned and gave a thumbs-up. I just nodded vigorously, having caught on—Si-woo was deliberately creating a broadcast moment for Won-ho.
Should I help?
Leaning back, I added casually to keep Ha-ru engaged in the conversation.
"I love Won-ho's voice too. With more confidence, he could improve so much."
"During 'Cinderella Team,' his tone surprised me—so soft. Almost like... he didn't realize his natural strengths differed from his preferences."
"Everyone's growing so much through these varied stages. Our team too."
"Totally! It's awesome! We finally got to—ah—"
"Ha-ru. No spoilers."
Like last time, I clamped my hands over his mouth mid-sentence. Ha-ru blinked at me before realizing his mistake, his face lighting up with exclamation marks. He nodded vigorously, sealing his lips shut like a vow.
After his last spoiler, he'd gotten lectured by staff, Soo-ho, and Tae-hyun. The lesson clearly stuck.
"...Huh?"
Gong Seok, who'd been quietly watching the stage next to Si-woo, made a small noise of surprise.
All eyes snapped to the monitor. The performance was nearing its climax with Won-ho at center, but nothing seemed amiss.
But Gong Seok wouldn't react for no reason. I leaned forward to meet his eyes.
"Seok, what's wrong?"
"Uh... Won-ho's not singing."
"Huh?"
"His part's coming up. He asked me to help with English pronunciation at the dorm, so I know. But... Jae-young and Tae-hyun are covering it instead..."
I turned back to the monitor. The group formation ended, cutting to Won-ho's solo shot. He grimaced slightly, opened his mouth—then closed it without finishing the line.
Fortunately, Eun-chan seamlessly covered the overlap, preventing an on-stage disaster... but something was clearly wrong with Won-ho.
"......"
"......"
The once-chatty waiting room fell into tense silence.
Just before going on stage, Won-ho had been excitedly chattering about performing for the audience. If something changed, it could only be because of what happened earlier.
"Team Youth Never Fails, you're up next."
"Got it. Let's move, guys."
At the assistant director's call, Si-woo snapped out of it and rallied us. As we scrambled up, letting stylists fix wrinkled outfits and hair, our eyes stayed glued to the monitor.
The Dysty team's stage was ending, but Won-ho never sang his parts.
"Time to move. It's dark backstage, so watch your step."
"Right. Ha-jin, look after Ha-ru. Seok, let's go."
"Mm."
Leaving the parking lot tent for the stage, our footsteps grew heavier as the music and crowd's energy intensified. My mind swirled with worry for Won-ho.
That one of the reasons breaking him was someone who claimed to love me—that guilt weighed heavily.
Then, a hand touched my shoulder.
"......"
"I know you're worried, but focus on our stage now."
"...Right."
"Won-ho's beating himself up enough. Don't make it worse by showing pity."
"Okay."
"Good. Watch your step—it's dark."
Si-woo fluttered his mic-covered jacket to prevent audio pickup as he whispered advice before striding ahead. He'd probably noticed my distraction and deliberately fallen back to talk. Since he didn't know about my fan's involvement, he likely thought I was just concerned for a friend.
But my fear wasn't about a botched stage.
It was the terror that Won-ho—after enduring undeserved cruelty because of me—had become so psychologically shaken he couldn't perform.
"...After filming, I'll talk to him. For now, the stage."
Though my thoughts remained tangled, I forced focus. Ruining our performance would be unforgivable.
When we reached backstage, the Dysty team was coming off. As they returned equipment, the mood was palpably somber—no celebratory cheers despite their stellar performance in front of a massive audience. Even young Jae-young and Yuki stayed quiet.
Less disappointment over mistakes than collective concern for Won-ho.
"......"
At the epicenter, Won-ho sat alone in a corner removing his in-ear pack, head bowed like a criminal. Leader Seo Tae-hyun subtly gestured to cameras not to film him, angling to shield Won-ho's face.
"Youth Never Fails, in-ears please."
"These are all hand mics, right?"
"Correct. Guys, final check before going up."
I wanted to say something to Won-ho but couldn't—both due to time and uncertainty over what words could possibly help... or if I even had the right to speak.
"Ha-jin, your in-ear."
"...Yeah."
As the Dysty team swarmed Won-ho, I saw him finally break down in tears from afar. Seo Tae-hyun—holding the taller, larger boy—caught my eye and winked.
'Break a leg,' he mouthed.
I nodded silently, signaling back to take care of Won-ho before turning away.
"Team Youth Never Fails! To the stage!"
With heavy steps, I ascended.
To a stage awaiting us—
filled with nameless "someones" who cheer, hate, love, and despise.
Onto that stage we climbed.