Chapter 30: First Monthly Evaluation (2)
30. First Monthly Evaluation (2)
"Whoa, finally!"
Yoon Taehee, who had been waiting for the song more eagerly than anyone (and who found Boost Camp utterly boring), was the first to react. He fidgeted like a predator eyeing its prey, as if asking why we weren't playing it immediately.
'No reason to delay, really.'
Without hesitation, I played the track Doha had sent me in the early hours of the morning. Soon, the finished product—crafted over a grueling week with Doha's blood, sweat, and tears—flowed from the speakers connected to my phone.
Ooh―, Woah―
The main string instruments remained, but their role had changed. The original melodic lines transformed into powerful, rough group chants, while the ambitious layers of strings Doha had built up filled the gaps in the beat, enriching the song's texture.
Begin―, our brilliant scenario
A Knight tearing through the night, those who longed for a new morning onto the streets
"Huh? That voice."
The moment the song started, Taehee, with his sharp ears, reacted. This voice... it's not Doha's. He tilted his head in confusion before turning to me with wide eyes.
"Is this you?"
"Yeah."
"Whoa, you sang this?"
"...That was part of the arrangement deal."
I nodded, picturing Doha probably passed out in deep sleep by now. On the first day of our monthly evaluation prep, he had holed up in his personal studio. When he finally emerged to grab water, the first thing he said to me was:
—I can't sing it.
—Huh?
—I have ideas in my head... but I can't execute them. So I'd like you to do the guide vocals.
—...Oh, sure. Not Gong Seok?
—No. Not him.
He was dead serious. He stared at me with such unwavering determination, like he'd been waiting for this exact moment, so I agreed on the spot. It was my first time doing guide vocals, but it turned out to be pretty fun.
"Wow... this song is really good."
"I've never heard Doha make something this intense before."
"Yeah, it's seriously great."
As the song ended, the No-Hope Trio (I still hadn't found a better name for them) burst into applause and praise. And rightfully so—objectively speaking, the song was fantastic, and it wasn't just because of my involvement. Plus, Doha's composition specialty had increased by 5% while making it.
'5% in a week... is that even possible?'
There was probably some hidden criteria for these stat gains, but I'd figure that out later.
"Oh, Doha's here!"
Just as I was about to replay the song to familiarize ourselves with the melody, the practice room door opened, and in shuffled Doha, looking like he hadn't fully woken up yet.
'That's a bear fresh out of hibernation if I've ever seen one.'
"Hey, Doha! Great work."
"Our ace, as always!"
"What's up? You could've slept more."
"I'm fine."
Doha, who had lost noticeable weight from pulling all-nighters, settled among the group members. I'd told him to skip practice and rest today, but... this bastard's really stubborn.
"So, we're practicing with this song now?"
"Hmm, but we don't have choreography yet, right?"
Gong Seok and Taehee, who had been diligently reading the lyrics, raised concerns. Seok's face darkened again with the same unease he'd shown earlier. He must be terrified—after wasting a week on the song, he'd have to memorize choreography in just three days if it came down to it.
But that would never happen.
"The choreo's done."
"Huh? Already?"
Ignoring their stunned expressions (and Doha's, who, though his eyes were barely open, was clearly just as shocked), I patted Kim Wonho on the back—he'd been sitting awkwardly beside me.
[Kim Wonho (Affiliation: Miro)]
Vocals: 89% (Rap: 34%)
Dance: 62%
Expressiveness: 92%
Specialty: Choreography Creation (86%)
Selling Points:
'A to Z'
—Rapid Learning
'Specialty: Choreography Creation 86%? I'd be an idiot not to use this.'
"Our Wonho already mapped it all out. Give him a round of applause."
"Haha... Sorry I didn't say anything sooner. Hajin told me not to."
"Seriously? When? We've been practicing together this whole time."
"Just... here and there after morning practice and at night. Still got some finishing touches left on the later parts."
Wonho, unused to being the center of praise, radiated discomfort and awkwardness. Even though he made it sound casual, he'd been working on this since Doha delivered the first guide vocals in three days—just as promised. So, in his own way, he'd suffered just as much as Doha.
I let Doha and Wonho bask in the praise before finally speaking up again once the excitement settled.
"Alright. Now, let's go through the song again, this time with Wonho's choreography included. Mark the parts you want or think you'll struggle with while following along with the lyrics. For reference."
"You'll actually consider it this time? Last time, all our suggestions got shot down."
"Doha kindly explained why they were rejected that day, didn't he?"
"...Tch."
Brushing off Taehee's petty remark, I pulled up the choreography guide video—filmed earlier that morning with the finalized track—on the tablet meant for monitor playback.
"......."
The choreography didn't have any major quirks. Since one person couldn't demonstrate the entire formation, we filmed it together—Wonho performed the parts assigned to each member, while I covered the rest.
Naturally, there were sections where both of us danced the same moves.
"Ah, the dance break."
"Not everyone's doing this part. The main vocal will be improvising off to the side, so only two of the remaining four will perform it."
Since Doha had framed this song's concept as something like "the underdogs' rebellion," we needed at least one explosive performance moment for the climax. No matter how much Wonho and I tried to adjust the difficulty, this part just couldn't be simplified.
'Not that I wanted to compromise, anyway.'
Then, I noticed their eyes darting around. It was obvious what they were thinking—who the hell was going to pull off this high-difficulty acrobatic performance? Almost instinctively, everyone's gaze landed on Wonho.
"Ah, I can't. The build-up right before is my part."
"......."
"Hajin promised me a solo dance spot in exchange for helping with choreography."
At that, their attention shifted to me. Right—I was the other guy in the video.
"I'm out too. Taehee and I don't match in height."
"Oh, so one spot's automatically mine?"
"Seok-i hyung can't do it."
"Huh? But then..."
In a team of five, three were already out, and one spot was confirmed. Naturally, all eyes turned to the last remaining candidate.
The youngest, unnecessarily tall, and with a 0% chance of snagging main vocal—
"...D-Doha hyung?"
"...Me?"
[System Alert: The System expresses considerable concern and apprehension.]
"Doha."
"......."
"Ever heard of Boost Camp Hell?"
Lee Doha. Dance break—congratulations!
Miro Entertainment's trainee dormitory.
Jung Siwoo waited until all the other trainees had finished using the bathroom before taking his shower. When he stepped out, he was mildly surprised to find Doha sitting on the living room couch instead of holed up in his personal practice room.
"......."
"What's got you thinking so hard?"
Siwoo, towel-drying his hair, almost walked past but stopped when he noticed Doha's unusually troubled expression. Doha was intently watching something on his personal tablet.
"...Just the practice footage for the monthly eval."
"Ah. Your team's pretty interesting. Kang Hajin, right? The one your team leader brought in."
Doha nodded. Then added:
"I'm doing the dance break."
"Oh. Really? ...What?"
Siwoo, who had been tilting his head away to avoid getting water on Doha, froze mid-motion. Even for someone who rarely showed surprise, this was shocking enough to make him drop his towel without noticing.
Doha—not composing, not producing, not rapping... but doing what?
"The dance break."
"Group?"
"No. Solo... well, duo."
"With who?"
"Yoon Taehee."
"...Why are you doing a dance break with him? Did Wonho break his leg?"
Unlike Doha, who had little interaction with the regular-class trainees, Siwoo was familiar with most of Miro's trainees. His disbelieving tone made it clear he thought this was absurd. But when Doha shook his head silently, equally unable to believe it himself, Siwoo didn't press further. Instinct told him there was nothing more to gain from questioning it.
Instead, his curiosity shifted elsewhere.
"Kang Hajin, was it? Your team leader."
"Yeah."
Kang Hajin. The rumored trainee who'd stirred up the company since his arrival.
Even Doha, who generally had little interest in people or the world, had shown curiosity about him.
Siwoo guessed that this unprecedented "Doha dance break" was likely Hajin's doing too.
"What's he like?"
"......."
At the question, Doha fell silent. Siwoo knew this wasn't evasion or discomfort—just Doha's usual routine of carefully organizing his thoughts before speaking. So instead of pushing, he calmly went about changing out of his damp shirt, waiting for the answer.
Soon, Doha's final assessment of Hajin came.
"He doesn't... seem lacking in desperation."
"......."
"But I don't get it. He's clearly skilled, so why doesn't he show any ambition?"
Doha's mind rewound to a few hours earlier.
After the uproar over <Congratulations, Doha! You've Won a Dance Break!> had died down (thanks to Hajin and Wonho's relentless efforts to brainwash him into accepting it), it was time to assign parts.
—Uh, I...
—Yeah?
—I want to be... main vocal.
It was Gong Seok, who had been hesitating ever since the dance break discussion.
Doha couldn't help but frown. Seok was undoubtedly a talented vocalist, but in Doha's eyes, Hajin was far more suited for the main vocal position. After handling the guide vocals, he was even more convinced of that.
—Sure, go ahead.
—......!
—R-Really? I can do it?
—......? There's no reason you can't.
But Hajin gave up the spot without a second thought. Like it had never even crossed his mind that it could be his.
—Just help Taehee and Wonho with their vocals. I'll be too busy keeping up with the performance progress.
—Huh? Oh, sure. That's no problem... Thanks, Hajin. I'll do my best.
—Yeah. Good luck, hyung.
It wasn't just empty courtesy. Hajin genuinely had no complaints about Seok taking main vocal. Doha found it baffling.
"It's not that he lacks ambition. He even volunteered to lead..."
"But he seems insecure about his skills?"
"...When it comes to himself, yeah."
For some reason, seeing Hajin like that frustrated Doha. Siwoo, watching Doha's rare display of irritation with amusement, shrugged.
"Could be the opposite."
"Opposite?"
"Maybe he just doesn't care because he can do anything. If he's not lacking ambition, then skipping dance break and main vocal means he's confident he'll make top 10 anyway. In that case, he's probably the most self-assured trainee in Miro."
With a chuckle, Siwoo stood from the couch, his business apparently concluded. Interesting kid. Your team's intriguing. With that, he left the living room.
"...Is that it?"
Doha muttered softly, his eyes fixed on the still-playing choreography video. On-screen, Hajin danced at a level that rivaled—maybe even surpassed—Wonho, who openly aimed for a dance position. Doha kept replaying the moves he now had to master himself.
It was a night full of thoughts.