The Center Decision

When Ye-chan first drew the slip marked Team 5, he thought it was a promising start.

Vocal Team 5 had the fewest members of any group — just six — which meant the part distribution would at least be relatively even.

Of course, the moment Woo Hwi-gyum drew Team 5 right after him, that thought vanished cleanly.

Is it even possible to keep getting stuck together like this?

Hwi-gyum didn't seem thrilled about sharing a team either. When their eyes met, a shadow settled over his already expressionless face.

"Oh. I'm Team 5 too."

And the instant Park Na-gil — another S-grade vocal trainee — also drew Team 5, Ye-chan decided to abandon any hope of claiming the individual top vote count.

At this point, we take the most votes of any team and secure those eighty thousand points.

That wasn't a choice. It was a necessity.

Every S-grade vocal trainee had landed in the same group. If they failed to deliver, the backlash would be inevitable.

Among the remaining three members was Jeong Ui-tak from Rubel Entertainment.

"Ye-chan, take good care of our Ui-tak, yeah?"

"Ah — don't do that!"

Beom Se-hyuk had sidled up behind Ye-chan with a playful request, and Ui-tak recoiled in pure disgust, shooing him away.

Woo Hwi-gyum and Jeong Ui-tak, huh…

It was far from an ideal team, but Ye-chan kept his expression carefully neutral as he listened to the brief self-introductions of his new teammates.

"Well, since I'm the oldest, I'll take the leader position for now."

At twenty-two-year-old Park Na-gil's words, the other trainees — Ye-chan included — nodded.

As far as Ye-chan could remember, none of them had caused any particular trouble, with the exception of Hwi-gyum.

Ui-tak is a bit of a concern, but there wasn't anything major with him, either.

Jeong Ui-tak had only just turned eighteen. He didn't look especially old, yet somehow he carried a worn-down quality ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that made him hard to read as a minor. When he was snapping back at Beom Se-hyuk, he at least looked his age — but with that blank white face sealed shut, he projected an atmosphere that made people hesitate to approach.

Ye-chan shifted his gaze slightly to the figure beside him: Woo Hwi-gyum, radiating an equally gloomy presence.

Judging by appearances alone, neither of them looked remotely cooperative — but Ye-chan decided not to worry ahead of time.

They look like that, but they deliver when it counts. Shouldn't be a problem.

Meanwhile, Park Na-gil had stepped up onto the stage and drawn their song.

The moment the assistant MC finished speaking, the screen mounted on the stage displayed the song title and the team members' names.

Pleased with the result, Ye-chan gave Park Na-gil a vigorous round of applause as he returned from the draw.

Erased was one of the double title tracks from Jupiter's third full album, released four years ago at the absolute peak of their career — a song with outstanding performance potential.

And it's one of the best tracks for rearranging, too.

Fortunately, aside from C-grade Kim Ju-young, everyone had a decent foundation in dance. They should be able to put together a solid stage.

Ye-chan reined in the excitement already building in his chest.

"Guys, they say we have to draw for positions too. Hwi-gyum, you go first."

Park Na-gil, having retrieved the drawing jar from the assistant MC, held it out to Woo Hwi-gyum, who was standing closest.

A flicker of surprise crossed Hwi-gyum's face before he reached into the jar and pulled out a slip.

"Hwi-gyum's Vocal 2. Next, Su-young."

Following Park Na-gil's directions, the members drew their slips one by one in the order they were standing.

"Ye-chan's main vocal. Looking forward to working with you?"

Park Na-gil gave Ye-chan's shoulder a light, painless pat as he held his slip, then moved on to the next person.

Ye-chan looked down at the paper in silence.

Even looking at it again, the four characters stood out sharp and clear.

…Luck is on my side?

He'd braced himself for the worst-case scenario of drawing Vocal 5 and planned accordingly — but this was an unexpectedly strong result.

He had no intention of losing to a bunch of rookies no matter which position he landed, but now every piece of the board he wanted was in place.

Above all, the symbolic weight of holding the main vocal position among the vocal parts was far from small.

"They said they'll give us the part distribution by position once we get to the practice room, so let's move."

Once the drawing was finished, Park Na-gil spoke up.

When they arrived at their assigned practice room, Dance Team 5 — who shared the space — was already checking their parts.

Ye-chan spotted the now-familiar back of Beom Se-hyuk's head. He seemed absorbed in the sheet music, unaware that Ye-chan and his teammates had entered.

On a table against the practice room wall, Vocal Team 5's sheet music was waiting.

The front page had the members' names and parts neatly written out.

Ye-chan flipped quickly through the sheet music he'd been handed, checking the parts.

Since Jupiter was originally a four-member group, he'd expected some of the main vocal sections to be split among the other members — but they had been left entirely as Ye-chan's parts.

If anything, Vocal 1 and Vocal 2 got the short end of the stick.

Excluding Vocal 5, the remaining four had roughly equal weight.

He glanced over at Kim Su-young, who held Vocal 5, and found him flipping through the sheet music with a visibly irritable expression.

Eighteen years old, and his face control is nonexistent.

Beside him, same-age Jeong Ui-tak was murmuring through his own parts with an air of complete indifference to whatever Su-young was doing.

Only Kim Ju-young, assigned Vocal 4, kept sneaking nervous glances at Su-young, who was radiating bad mood in thick, unmistakable waves.

"It says the center is decided by each team independently, regardless of position. Anyone want it? I do, for the record."

At Park Na-gil's words, the other members raised their hands one by one.

Ye-chan glanced at the empty center part and spoke up.

"Wouldn't it be better to practice once first and then decide?"

"……"

"Should we? Everyone knows this song, right?"

After a peculiar pause, Park Na-gil looked around at the team.

This guy. He's sulking because I pushed back.

Ye-chan was familiar with the type — people who got irritated whenever someone offered an alternative to their suggestion, regardless of whether the alternative was better. Still, watching someone wear their annoyance so openly over something this trivial was almost refreshing.

"Alright, let's start."

Barely finishing the sentence, Park Na-gil hit play on the accompaniment the production staff had prepared.

As they loosely matched the choreography and sang through their respective parts, Ye-chan's conviction solidified.

With this song, the main vocal can't take center.

He'd run through the blocking in his head several different ways, but if he handled the main vocal parts and took center, the stage picture simply wouldn't look clean.

There were places where ambition paid off, and places you had to let go.

This was clearly the latter.

So who do I push forward?

Considering he might debut alongside these members someday, the safest move was to back a trainee who almost never fell out of the top ranks.

Park Na-gil caught his breath and turned to the group.

"Alright. Let's decide on center."

A challenging look lingered thickly on Ye-chan, as if to say, Satisfied now? — the earlier grudge still clearly unsettled.

If Ye-chan simply endorsed Park Na-gil for center, that petty resentment would dissolve like sugar in water. But that was neither here nor there.

Through the mirror in front of him, Ye-chan studied the faces of his teammates as they caught their breath, one by one.

Then he reached a quick conclusion.

"Anyone who wants center?"

At Park Na-gil's prompt, Ye-chan raised his hand.

Park Na-gil's eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second.

"Ye-chan, wouldn't it be tough doing main vocal and center?"

He was dressing it up, but the real question was whether the main vocal had any business being greedy for center too.

Ye-chan answered with polite composure, fully aware of the cameras, as if the irritation didn't touch him at all.

"Yes — the blocking wouldn't work out."

He paused briefly, then pointed toward Jeong Ui-tak standing to his left and spoke with quiet certainty.

"I think Ui-tak would be good for it."

"Me?"

Yes. You.

When Ye-chan nodded, Ui-tak's pupils trembled with visible suspicion.

Ye-chan paid it no mind, thinking calmly to himself.

Park Na-gil would be the convenient choice, but looking at stage quality, Jeong Ui-tak is the better option.

As an S-grade, Park Na-gil's skills were clearly among the top trainees. But everything about him felt average — neither his singing nor his dancing had any standout quality that caught the eye.

Ironically, B-grade Jeong Ui-tak surpassed him across the board, visuals included.

The weaker spots could be covered by the other members' strengths.

Fans don't want a safe stage. They want a special one.

Given ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the choice between a safe stage and a polished one, the polished stage won every time.

Park Na-gil looked at Ye-chan with a faintly sour expression, then turned to Ui-tak.

"That so? What about you, Ui-tak? Do you want center too?"

"I…"

Ui-tak chose his words carefully, then glanced toward the dance team practicing at the far end of the room.

He watched Beom Se-hyuk's back for a moment before speaking.

"I want it."

Exactly as Ye-chan had planned.

Park Na-gil nodded at Ui-tak's answer.

"Alright. Besides ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me and Ui-tak, anyone else want center?"

Kim Su-young, who had been stewing over his part assignment, shot his arm straight up.

"Hwi-gyum, Ju-young — you two okay with that?"

"Yeah."

"Uh, I'm fine too."

Unlike Hwi-gyum, who genuinely seemed to have zero interest in the center spot, Kim Ju-young hesitated as if he wished someone would just push him into it.

"Then, Hwi-gyum, Ju-young — who do you think would suit center?"

Every pair of eyes in the team locked onto Woo Hwi-gyum and Kim Ju-young.

"Uh, I think Su-young would be okay… his part was really short, too…"

"Ju-young, center has to be decided separately from the parts. Shouldn't we choose based on who would make our team's stage better?"

Park Na-gil scolded Kim Ju-young with a deliberately stern face.

"O-oh, is that how it works?"

Kim Ju-young deflated instantly and started watching Park Na-gil's expression, which made Kim Su-young bristle.

"So you're saying the stage would be bad if ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I stood center?"

"That's not what I meant. I just said something because it sounded like Ju-young was deciding based only on the parts."

Park Na-gil tried to soothe him calmly, but it backfired. Su-young's eyes grew even more venomous.

"Is that right? But earlier you told Ye-chan hyung that doing main vocal and center together would be hard. Hyung, you're Vocal 1 — you've got a lot of lines too. Wouldn't center be tough for you as well?"

Ye-chan barely managed to swallow the sigh that had risen all the way to his throat.

This kind of naked emotional display was something you could only get away with as a trainee.

Suddenly, memories of coaxing and managing the early Lee:Spirit members through his repeated resets rose up, and a faint melancholy washed over him.

Park Na-gil's face, too, showed a flicker of displeasure he couldn't fully hide under the blatant sarcasm.

"Honestly, aside from main vocal, doesn't everyone have roughly the same weight? That's how it felt to me."

"Is that so? Vocal 5 has so few lines I was too busy being shocked by that to count how many bars everyone else got."

Ye-chan quietly surveyed the room.

The cameramen holding their breath and filming this side — he didn't need to be told how thrilled they were right now.

This is going to pull some serious aggro.

He couldn't let this unproductive fight drag on any longer.

"Woo Hwi-gyum."

Hwi-gyum's shoulders visibly flinched at the sudden sound of his name.

"Who do you think would suit center?"

Everyone froze at those words.

Exactly as Ye-chan said — whether Kim Su-young and Park Na-gil kept trading punches or not, the deciding vote belonged to Woo Hwi-gyum.

Ye-chan looked at him.

The other two fell silent as well, ears trained on Hwi-gyum's answer.

Then his thin lips moved.

"……I…"