Chapter 48: Daylight (4)
48. Daylight (4)
Tae-il's eyes widened at the unexpected sound.
"Trainee Kang Hajin? Are you okay?"
"Haa... Sorry. Just give me a moment."
In that instant, Hajin desperately tried to hold back his tears, but the emotions he'd been suppressing burst forth. Playing the role of a burdened leader—a boy who had to grow up too fast—he turned his head as if wiping his tears while gauging the reactions around him.
"Ah, hyeong..."
"Hajin-ah..."
The most shocked by the ruthless leader's sudden tears were the Team B trainees who had practiced with him. At this moment, they were the ones most startled and bewildered by his tears, yet they also knew better than anyone the emotional turmoil he must have endured over the past three days.
"Ah... Seems like he's been through a lot."
Seo Tae-il, too, played along, offering a sympathetic remark to ease the mood. Hajin wiped his eyes with his sleeve, sniffled once, and then—
He saw it.
From the production booth where the monitors were, Kwon PD was pointing at him while engaged in a flurry of conversation.
Kwon PD's golden rule for Episode 1:
"The first episode must gather everything that can become a talking point. Handsome guys, crying guys, angry guys, crazy guys, talented guys."
What? An opportunity? Well, thank you very much, you bastard.
'I'll make Episode 1 the Kang Hajin Show.'
Since things have turned out this way, I'll monopolize the early episodes. I can't do much about being handsome, so I'll just have to get angry, act crazy, and perform well. Oh, and the "acting crazy" part? Already done.
"If you don't pull yourself together, your stage movements will be a disaster! Sing live properly!"
...Just know that I didn't have the luxury to care about cameras or anything else.
"Ahem, ah, sorry."
After subtly checking the atmosphere, I exhaled a short breath, as if finally regaining my composure. Any further and it'd be overkill.
Even without looking, I could tell the entire studio's attention was now fixed on me. I picked up the mic and spoke as calmly as I could, my voice still slightly choked.
"Honestly, I was really lost. I was the last one to join here, after all... As the leader, I was worried about whether I could do well."
My trembling voice prompted the guys around me to pat my back reassuringly.
"Right now, I'll focus only on showing you our own version of Daylight without worrying about anything else."
"Yes, understood. Team B, who left a strong impression during the interim check—we look forward to your performance today."
With Seo Tae-il's smooth hosting, my turn ended. He threw a few more questions at Team A before wrapping up the segment.
"Now, let me introduce the five mentors who will evaluate today's performances."
Behind Tae-il, the lights flashed on one by one as he introduced each mentor. There was nothing particularly special about them—same old trainers we saw every day. Except for one.
"Lia, the undisputed top soloist of Korea and member of the group Themis!"
'I thought they'd just stick with Miro's usual lineup for the first episode.'
Having Lia as a special mentor was a bit unexpected. I figured if anyone, it'd be someone from Endway. But the higher the caliber and the more diverse the lineup, the better. It'll draw in viewers who weren't initially interested in Miro's trainees—"Wait, [famous name] is appearing?"—and widen the audience.
Of course, to reap those benefits, I'd have to absolutely crush today's stage.
And that?
Well, I'd have to bet my life on it.
I clapped enthusiastically, my palms turning bright red.
Team B was performing second.
"We'll go first."
Thanks to the Wings class privilege, Jung Si-woo had chosen to perform first.
'Filthy class system.'
For someone aiming to climb to the top of that hierarchy, my mindset was pretty anti-establishment. But who cares? We moved to the seats prepared for us to watch the stage.
Team A, dressed in a coordinated white-and-blue concept clearly aiming for a refreshing vibe, took their positions. The lights shifted, and the intro of a song so catchy you could sing it in your sleep began.
'They're definitely good.'
Flawless group choreography, precise dynamics in their expressions—there wasn't a single weak point in their paired formations. At the center, Kim Won-ho and Lee Yu-geon were practically destroying the stage.
'Whose handiwork is this devilish pairing?'
I sighed unconsciously as I watched Won-ho and Yu-geon, who had taken my advice to "get along" a little too literally, smiling brightly while perfectly syncing their moves. Do they even realize this is a survival show? Just as that thought crossed my mind, Han Seong-woo finally began the first verse.
"Hello? It's me."
Seong-woo waved his hand as if greeting the mentors watching them. His mischievous smile and playful expression looked surprisingly natural.
'Did he flip his snapback backwards just for this?'
Since we were up next, it was obvious the cameras would cut to me every time Seong-woo's part came up, so I made sure to keep my expression neutral while watching Team A's performance.
Honestly, Seong-woo's stage presence wasn't bad. No—if he had been in Team B, our performance might have been overshadowed by him. It's just—
"The moonlight filling the sky,
The starry night pouring down,
When all these journeys end,
We'll finally face our highlight."
'There are just too many talented guys.'
Not the verse, not the chorus—just a passing pre-chorus, and yet Seo Tae-hyun obliterated it with his falsetto. No wonder he was a former Cherry Boy—his eyes were practically sparkling with stars. The moment he made eye contact, it felt like some bittersweet story between him and me unfolded effortlessly.
Dressed head-to-toe in white, the visuals of the group reached peak freshness. When Lee Do-ha's deep, resonant voice and Joo Eun-chan's rapid-fire rap started bouncing off each other like a ping-pong match, I couldn't help but applaud.
Even parts that weren't considered "killing points" were being demolished, making Seong-woo, who was holding his own at an average level, seem plain in comparison.
'And "mischievous"? That interpretation doesn't even make sense.'
While everyone else was pulling off expressions like star-crossed lovers reunited after a thousand years, his "cute troublemaker" act just made it seem like he hadn't gotten the memo on the concept.
"Daylight, follow that path—"
A dance break led by Team A's dance line followed. Kim Won-ho, who had whined about not having enough parts, now proudly anchored the center triangle formation. Considering over half of them were from the special class, this was a meteoric rise in status.
'They really do have different styles.'
Won-ho's strength lay in his solid core power and precise, clean movements, while Yu-geon excelled in fluidly adjusting his dynamics using his long limbs. There was no definitive answer as to which was better, but—
'This song suits Yu-geon more.'
That was why I had paired Won-ho with Yu-geon—and why I'd warned him never to make an enemy out of the guy. In this battle, Yu-geon would win, no question.
'Though for him, winning is just breaking even. For Won-ho, it's a different story.'
Before the monthly evaluations, Won-ho had been a mid-to-lower-tier trainee in the regular class, barely getting any attention. Just being positioned as Yu-geon's rival was already a massive win for him. And if he could make it seem like he was hot on Yu-geon's heels? Even better.
'Whatever. I've got my own problems to worry about.'
By the time I finished my pointless musings, the song was nearing its end. Seong-woo, back at the center, fluttered his eyes open and closed dramatically as he delivered the final lines.
"Hello? It's me.
Finally meeting you, I'm so glad."
At the very end, as if realizing something was off, Seong-woo switched his concept and finished with a slightly more emotional tone.
"Yes, great job."
"...Damn, Seo Tae-hyun is insane."
"Si-woo hyung's vocals are no joke. That guy's a cheat code."
"What are we supposed to do now, seriously? Ah, Do-ha hyung's rap was kinda overkill."
"Kim Won-ho, was he always this good? He's almost on Yu-geon's level."
"Eh, Yu-geon's still better. Let's be real."
But already, the star of this stage wasn't Han Seong-woo.
For now, that was enough.
"Next, Team B, please get ready."
"Wow, they're all so good. Rene's gonna have to step up their game."
Lia, who had been unable to hold back her admiration throughout Team A's performance, finally muttered to herself as she scribbled her thoughts on the evaluation sheet without hesitation. "They did well," Seo Tae-il had said, and even as a joke, no one could deny it.
"The first team set the bar so high. The second team must be nervous."
"That's because most of them are from the Wings class. They've all ranked high in the monthly evaluations. But Team B is good too."
"Ah, I'm glad I debuted back in the day. I don't have to compete with kids like these."
Lia, fully aware her comments would make it into the broadcast, chatted away before her eyes landed on the evaluation sheet where she'd marked Hajin's name earlier.
"That's him, right? The guy from before."
"Yeah. I'm not sure how he'll do. His parts increased suddenly... If he can't handle it, the risk is huge."
Tae-il watched Hajin positioning himself on stage with worried eyes. Soon, the assistant director, who had been helping set the center, disappeared backstage as everything fell into place. The prompt for the lead mentor's remarks lit up—this time, it was Lia's turn.
"Alright. Before we see the stage, I have a few questions. Trainee Kang Hajin?"
"Yes."
Hajin, holding the handheld mic, looked at Lia. Though he was only twenty, his demeanor exuded the composure and confidence of someone a decade older. Lia paused, thinking. The prompt read "What's the highlight of today's performance?" but...
"I heard you sang my song during your audition."
"...Huh? Ah... Yes, that's right."
"Could you sing a short snippet of which song it was?"
Lia, her playful side kicking in, tossed out a bombshell that wasn't in the script. The writers, caught off guard, scrambled to erase and rewrite the prompt in a panic. Tae-il nudged her as if to say, "What are you doing?" but it was too late—Lia's curiosity about Hajin had already been unleashed.
"Come on, isn't this fate? You have to sing it in front of the original artist!"
Sing it, sing it! Thanks to Lia effortlessly steering the mood, the atmosphere was set in an instant. Hajin glanced around before letting out a hearty laugh.
'Well, this is a win for me.'
She's asking straight up in the interview. In his mind, another teaser played out.
"Among these trainees, one auditioned with Lia's song? (Cut to Hajin's Rene audition footage) How does it feel to be judged by the very person who inspired your dream?"
'Wow, instant narrative.'
After watching Team A's performance, the morale of our team had plummeted, and I hated seeing them like that. Hajin, seizing the chance to flip the mood, stepped onto the stage without hesitation.
"Then I'll sing a little."
The stage fell silent in an instant. It felt strange and surreal to Hajin—everyone was listening to his song now. He opened his mouth calmly.
"I don't think I'll ever forget you,
A scar-like mark I can never erase..."
'Ah, shit, I started too high.'
Maybe because it had been a while, but he'd unconsciously pitched the first note too high. The rest of the song wasn't that high anyway, so it didn't matter much, but Hajin focused hard to avoid going off-key.
And then—he blanked.
'Next lyrics... was it "happiness" or "love"?'
He'd sung this song so many times that his mouth moved on autopilot, but the next line refused to come to mind. Was the first verse "happiness" and the second "love" or something?
"All those shattered moments..."
While he was still agonizing, the song reached that part. Ah, what was it?! Unable to decide, Hajin just blurted out whatever came to mind.
"Haa— Ham-bok (a garbled mix of "happiness," "surrender," and "pumpkin")...
"...Can I say it? Can I even dare?"
Finishing the song with some bizarre pronunciation that could've been "hambok," "hamburger," "surrender," or "pumpkin," Hajin immediately covered his forehead with his hand.
"Ah, I messed up."
"Ahaha, that part's a bit confusing, right?"
A contestant forgetting the lyrics in front of the original artist? Yep, that's me. Hahaha.