Chapter 29: First Monthly Evaluation (1)
29. First Monthly Evaluation (1)
Beep, beep—
Thud, thud-thud!
One, two, again!
The sound of shoe soles repeatedly scraping against the wooden floor filled the air. In this space devoid of even the most basic musical scales, only rough breathing, footsteps, and counting voices could be heard. Someone in the sweltering practice room, heated to an uncomfortable degree by the rising temperature, soon collapsed with a tearful cry.
"Ah, please! Stop! Enough!"
Yoon Tae-hee, who had never lost to anyone in terms of stamina, flailed his arms and legs in protest. The others were no different, wiping sweat from their brows while clutching their knees or waists as they gasped for breath, clearly nearing their limits. Tae-hee's gaze, filled with resentment, turned toward the mastermind behind this situation.
"You said to just trust you! You devil! You—you devil!"
"Hyung goes to church."
The mastermind, Hajin, wiped his sweat with the towel around his neck and answered sarcastically. Tae-hee let out a scream before collapsing face-first on the opposite side, sobbing. Aigoo... How did I end up in this team... Of course, no one paid him any mind—it was the same complaint he'd been making since the monthly evaluation practices began.
...So, here's how things unfolded.
"Sorry, but—"
"......?"
"We're not doing this song for the monthly eval."
"Huh?"
"Excuse me?"
Hajin's firm declaration left everyone staring at him in disbelief. The most shocked was Doha, who had never even imagined his song being rejected (though he always considered the possibility, he'd forgotten it was even an option after years of never facing it).
And what followed was even more absurd.
"We're—"
"......."
"—gonna dance. Hardcore."
"......."
"Group choreo. Ever heard of knife-sharp formations? We're doing that."
Doha dropped his phone. Won-ho bit his tongue mid-sentence. Tae-hee choked on his water, forcing Gong Seok to pat his back. Amid the chaos unfolding in real time, Hajin remained unfazed.
"Hyung. Uh... I mean, of course, I'd love it if dance was the main focus, but... is that even possible?"
Won-ho, the only one among them who primarily focused on dance, asked hesitantly, his tongue still numb. Hajin didn't waver. His reasoning was clear.
Because we can.
The system window floating before his eyes was proof.
[Gong Seok (Affiliation: Miro)]
Vocal: 92%
Dance: 53%
Expressiveness: 81%
Specialty: Wide Vocal Range (89%)
Appeal Point: "Teacher, I have a question!"
—Academic passion, teaching enthusiasm
[Kim Won-ho (Affiliation: Miro)]
Vocal: 89% (Rap: 34%)
Dance: 62%
Expressiveness: 92%
Specialty: Choreography Creation (86%)
Appeal Point: "A to Z"
—Rapid learning ability
[Yoon Tae-hee (Affiliation: Miro)]
Vocal: 85% (Rap: 49%)
Dance: 63%
Expressiveness: 75%
Specialty: Choreography Creation (76%)
Appeal Point: "Strong Heart"
—Stage presence, adaptability, performance execution (91%)
There was one common thread among all three.
Their dance stats were significantly lower than their vocals.
Their vocal stats are surprisingly high. They've all polished their skills as much as they could.
Yet, none of them were particularly highly rated for vocals. Even Gong Seok, who leaned toward singing, was only at the level of "a regular person who sings well" compared to the top-tier trainees.
On the other hand—
They can do better than this in dance.
They had three weeks. If they could raise those percentages by even 10% in that time...
The trainers, who saw trainees pushing themselves to the limit every day, would notice.
The difference. The growth.
Plus, we've got someone reliable in performance too.
Hajin glanced at Won-ho, who was still talking to the others with a doubtful expression. He'd always wondered why Won-ho's practice videos, despite being a bit rough, drew his eye—turns out, it was thanks to that 92% expressiveness.
"I don't mind not using my song. But... honestly, I'm not confident in dance either. I'm working on it, but getting results in such a short time won't be easy."
Even Lee Doha, who rarely spoke much, raised his hand and rambled more than ever, clearly uneasy.
He doesn't even hesitate to admit his own shortcomings.
Hajin, who knew better than anyone how hard it was to admit one's own weaknesses, silently acknowledged Doha's courage and shook his head.
"I'm not saying we'll pull off something insane right away. But this song won't work. It's good, but—"
"Could you give more specific feedback?"
"It shows in the song. I'm not confident in dance—it's written all over it."
"......!"
"But from what I see, you can do better than this. And it'll highlight your rap more."
Doha's stat window reappeared before Hajin's eyes.
[Lee Doha (Affiliation: Miro)]
Vocal: 17% (Rap: 64%)
Dance: 47%
Expressiveness: 35%
Specialty: Composition, Producing (34%)
Appeal Point: "Strong Heart"
—Stage presence, adaptability, performance execution (80%)
Doha's the opposite of the others.
His vocal potential is much higher, but unless it suddenly jumps by 40%, it's hopeless.
Meanwhile, dance can easily break 50% with a little push.
What's the point of boosting vocals for a guy who can wipe out Miro's trainees with just his rap? His dance skills aren't that terrible, so it's better to focus there.
"......."
Doha looked stunned, momentarily speechless. He seemed lost in thought. The feedback had been blunt yet precise, leaving the others silent too.
Sensing the shattered atmosphere, Hajin instinctively knew it was time for the carrot.
"I'm not saying we scrap everything. But I want us to be bolder. You need to be absolutely sure you can pour everything into your rap. You're our only rapper."
"Then..."
"We don't have much time, and the melody is solid, so can you develop it further? Won-ho has the lowest vocal range, so we'll adjust the key to the highest he can comfortably sing. Gong Seok-hyung can handle most keys anyway."
"Ah, no, I'm not really that—"
The timid Gong Seok's ears turned red at the unexpected praise. But to Hajin, who had already seen his "wide vocal range" stat, it wasn't praise—just a fact.
Then, Doha, who had been silently listening, tapped the floor a few times with his fingers before speaking.
"Three days."
"......!"
"I need three days. To rearrange it like you said."
"That's enough."
The deal was struck. Doha immediately packed up and left—a signal to everyone present that he was diving into the rearrangement. Ultimately, the monthly eval would unfold as Hajin envisioned.
"Wait, so we can't do anything until the song's done?"
Tae-hee, quick to adapt (and eager for a break), widened his eyes. His expression clearly read, Yes! Rest time! But Hajin, who couldn't have possibly miscalculated the time needed for rearrangement, flashed his "professional social smile."
"Of course not."
"......? But there's no song yet—"
"Doesn't matter."
"......?"
"Even if we had the song, we couldn't match it with our current skills. You all know that, right?"
"Th-then...?"
The moment Doha left the practice room, Hajin stood up. The three hopeless brothers finally noticed something unusual about Hajin's outfit today.
A black short-sleeve shirt (no worries about sweat stains), thin training pants for ventilation, practice sneakers that wouldn't slip on the wooden floor, and a sturdy hairband to keep his sweat-soaked hair in place.
"Ever heard of Boost Camp from Hell?"
"......."
"From now on, we're dancing until we puke. Brace yourselves."
And so, the curtain rose on hell. Welcome to Dance Hell!
"...Hey, Hajin. Are we really... okay?"
During a brief pause in training (no, practice), forced by Tae-hee's threat of actually vomiting, Gong Seok cautiously approached Hajin, who was stretching on the side. Hajin sat up and looked at him.
"It's not that I don't trust you... I just wonder if this is the right way."
"Hmm... Could you tell me more specifically what's worrying you?"
Hajin scooted aside to make space, careful not to make Gong Seok uncomfortable. After all, he was the only adult in the group, the oldest hyung, and someone who struggled with confidence. Hajin was doing everything to keep him motivated.
"Well... We decided to focus more on dance than vocals, right? That's why Doha's working so hard on the arrangement."
"......."
"But I wonder... if it's okay for us to just be doing basics like this."
Hajin's Boost Camp.
Its core content? Basic choreography drills. The very first thing trainees learn when they join an agency.
—You know what's most important in dance? Angles. And lines.
—Angles! Hit the angles! Deeper!
—Your gaze follows your fingertips. Eye control—sharp.
—Your arms have to be straight. Not obtuse—right angles!
It was no surprise the others were baffled. They'd braced for complex choreography, not this. Hajin nodded understandingly.
It's about time they got restless—we've spent a precious week out of three on just this.
Even Doha, burning the midnight oil on the arrangement, was forced to do these drills 300 times in stolen moments. Seo Tae-hyun, who shared a room with Doha, was horrified to see him opening doors at right angles, gaze fixed on his fingertips.
"I was actually thinking of moving to the next step soon."
"Ah... Really? The next step would be..."
"Should I explain once everyone's here?"
Right on cue, Tae-hee and Won-ho returned from their break. Hajin called them over, and the four (minus Doha) formed a circle in the center of the practice room.
"First, thanks for suffering through this past week."
"Yeah, yeah, hyung."
"Tch, shut up, Tae-hee."
"It was hell, especially for Tae-hee and Won-ho."
Hajin's easygoing tone loosened the tension, drawing a few laughs. Seizing the moment, he pulled out his phone with a grin.
"Now, for the big announcement."
"......? Wait, don't tell me—"
"The song's done. Finally."
One week after the first monthly eval meeting.
At last, the song was decided.