The Second Broadcast
"…I think Ui-tak suits the center position."
The moment Woo Hwi-gyum finished speaking, Park Na-gil and Kim Su-young's faces went rigid.
"Me?"
Once again, Jeong Ui-tak looked at Woo Hwi-gyum as if he hadn't expected that at all.
"Then that's two votes for Ui-tak as center. Hmm, all right — let's try running through it with the center parts included."
"Yes."
Park Na-gil, a third-year trainee, glanced at the camera positions, quickly composed his expression, and took charge of the situation like a proper leader. Kim Su-young's face, however, showed no sign of softening even after the music started.
Jeong Ui-tak had looked nervous at first, but once his own parts came around, he delivered exactly what was needed.
The moment Jeong Ui-tak sang the empty center section, Ye-chan felt his choice confirmed. I knew it. His voice blends perfectly with mine.
From the first time they'd matched vocals, Ye-chan had narrowed the center candidates down to Woo Hwi-gyum and Jeong Ui-tak. The other three simply didn't have the skill to stand center. That was why Ye-chan had recommended Jeong Ui-tak — whose thin, clear, ringing tone was so different from his own. That way, the main vocal parts sitting right next to the center section would shine the brightest.
When he'd handed Woo Hwi-gyum the deciding vote, he'd already been half-certain of victory. From what he'd observed during their first dorm stay, even if Hwi-gyum had originally had someone else in mind for center, he was the type to pick Jeong Ui-tak. Choosing Park Na-gil or Kim Su-young on the spot would have meant the bickering never ended.
When the song finished, Park Na-gil encouraged the members with a noticeably brighter face.
"It fits better than I expected. Nice work, Ui-tak."
Whether he meant it or not, Jeong Ui-tak bowed his head at Park Na-gil's composed attitude, while Kim Su-young shot him a sideways glare.
"This time, let's focus on the choreography and run it again."
After a light run-through of the dance, the earlier fight might as well have never happened — everything flowed smoothly. They settled on a direction for the arrangement, reworked a few sections of choreography, and before they knew it, it was evening.
Aside from Kim Su-young making a point of sulking, everyone else was motivated and picked things up fast, so the overall atmosphere wasn't bad.
"All right, that's it for today. Let's meet back at the practice room tomorrow morning. Rooms — me, Su-young, and Ju-young in one; Ye-chan, Hwi-gyum, and Ui-tak in the other."
"What?"
Ye-chan asked without thinking. Park Na-gil handed him a key card and whispered,
"Su-young's still pissed about the center thing. I ignored it during practice, but we can't leave it like this — Ju-young and I will talk to him tonight."
Park Na-gil winked, patted Ye-chan's shoulder, and before Ye-chan could say anything, shoved his roommates out of the practice room.
Ye-chan found Woo Hwi-gyum ten times more uncomfortable than Kim Su-young, but the bus had already left the station. He held up the key card and looked back.
"…Shall we head in too?"
The two taciturn trainees nodded silently.
"Everyone, please move to the auditorium!"
The next day, after dinner, the writer who'd been checking the clock with increasing frequency made the announcement. The trainees wiped their sweat with towels and relocated to the auditorium.
Once they'd settled in a cluster on the floor, it wasn't long before the second episode of Choose My Prince 99 began airing. Ninety-nine pairs of eyes locked onto the roll screen at the front.
Beom Se-hyuk, who'd somehow ended up sitting next to Ye-chan, whispered in an excited voice,
"It feels just like being at the movies, right?"
What kind of movie theater makes its customers sit on the floor? Still, there was no need to rain on someone who was clearly enjoying himself, so Ye-chan gave a vague nod.
The trainees who'd appeared in the first broadcast — including Ye-chan's own performance — flashed by quickly, and the grade evaluations began in earnest. Ye-chan sat with proper posture, pretending to be absorbed, and watched the screen.
Of the first-round grade evaluations, only Beom Se-hyuk's stage remained. Ye-chan could feel the production team's malice in placing Jeong Ui-tak — also from Rubel Entertainment — in the slot right before Se-hyuk.
Objectively, Jeong Ui-tak's skills weren't bad. But he was young, and under pressure he often failed to bring his full ability to the stage. On social media and in the communities, constant comparison to his labelmate Beom Se-hyuk meant his talent was routinely undervalued.
He cracked on a note during the first-round evaluation and still got an A-Grade, and people wouldn't shut up about him riding Se-hyuk's coattails. In reality, the judges had made him re-sing that part and evaluated him based on potential — but that behind-the-scenes detail had been cleanly cut from the broadcast.
Ye-chan glanced briefly at Jeong Ui-tak, sitting beside Beom Se-hyuk. In the light spilling from the roll screen, tears clung glittering to the corners of Ui-tak's eyes.
…He's still just a kid.
Ye-chan pretended not to notice and turned his gaze back to the commercials playing on screen.
Gi Tae-rang's younger sister, Gi Hae-rang, was sprawled on the sofa still in her dobok, watching Chumaf episode two. She'd never had the slightest interest in idols, and was only staring at a program she would never have watched under normal circumstances out of loyalty to her mother's son — yawning the whole time.
"Ugh, I need to sleep early if I'm going for a morning run tomorrow."
Their parents weren't due back until the next morning, so tonight she was stuck watching the broadcast featuring her household co-registrant alone. Technically, her brother's grade evaluation had already aired in the first episode, so she hadn't planned on watching tonight at all. But Gi Tae-rang had insisted over and over that there was this really, really, really cool hyung, that he couldn't say more because it would be a spoiler, and that she absolutely had to see it for herself — which was why she was still lying in front of the television at this hour.
"No, but calling it a spoiler even to family? What, is he worried I'll go spread rumors somewhere?"
The more she thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed, and she was about to just go to sleep when the commercials — even more boring than the show — finally ended and the screen shifted to theme song practice.
Gi Hae-rang yawned long and wide. The judges for the second test, who'd set every community on fire, left her completely unmoved.
Why does Tae-rang even want to do this kind of thing? He should've just stuck with taekwondo like always. She couldn't understand why someone with no real skill was out there trying to become an idol. The sight of her own blood relative receiving the lowest grade and still bowing his head in gratitude, broadcast nationwide, was not exactly pleasant.
This is pissing me off. Should I just go to sleep?
Gi Hae-rang was holding the remote, deliberating, when a group of trainees approached the camera.
They're S-Grade!
Like Moses parting the sea, the S-Grade trainees cut through the others and came straight toward her brother.
"Want to practice with us for a bit?"
Led by Ha Ye-chan, the S-Grade trainees held out their hands, and from there everything moved like clockwork.
"For that part, if you connect the moves like this, it'll be easier."
Ha Ye-chan's profile as he seriously taught the D-Grade trainees was a work of art.
"A handsome oppa with a good personality too?"
Gi Hae-rang reflected on her past self, who'd thought Ye-chan looked too sharp-featured to warm up to every time his face appeared on screen.
"You've improved a lot. Want to try it one more time before you lose the feeling?"
To think she'd mistaken a man who could smile with his eyes that kindly for someone fierce! Gi Hae-rang finally understood her brother's words completely.
"That's right. Right side first, like that. Nice."
"…!"
Without a doubt, that was the best half-polite speech Gi Hae-rang had heard in seventeen years.
"So cool…!"
Just like Tae-rang said — a really, really, really cool hyung. No — a cool oppa.
After the broadcast monitoring ended, Gi Tae-rang came running from the far end of the hall, bowing at a full ninety degrees and thanking him over and over, which made Ye-chan arrive at the showers a little late — and they were already full.
"I'm so sorry, it's because of me!"
Ye-chan gave a rough "it's fine" to Gi Tae-rang, who stuck close and kept apologizing, then perched on one of the chairs set out in the changing room.
The broadcast content has changed a lot from the past.
In Ye-chan's memory, the theme song filming scenes in episode two had been almost entirely cut. That was why he hadn't expected the shoot to run so long. But in tonight's broadcast, they'd nearly cut the second-round grade evaluation practice and instead edited in a long stretch of theme song rehearsal.
Is this another thing that changed because I came in?
Ye-chan felt he couldn't rely too heavily on his past memories and revised his plans going forward.
At this rate, he's going to stare a hole through my face.
He turned his head and locked eyes with Gi Tae-rang, who'd been staring at him wordlessly for some time.
"Do you have something to say?"
At Ye-chan's question, Gi Tae-rang's eyes lit up as if he'd been waiting for this.
"Can I call you Hyung-nim?"
"No."
This kid's been trying to make me look like a gangster since last time.
"Pffft—!"
Jeong Ui-tak, who'd somehow ended up sitting nearby, must have overheard — he sprayed the water he'd been drinking.
Even after Ye-chan's rejection came back at Mach speed, Gi Tae-rang wasn't the least bit discouraged.
"Then how about sunbae-nim?"
"I'm not your sunbae, Gi Tae-rang."
Spotting an open shower stall, Ye-chan stood up. Gi Tae-rang trailed after him, carefully reading his face.
"Then… teacher?"
Without looking back, Ye-chan said,
"Just call me hyung."
"Ah, then I'll call you that! You can speak casually with me too, hyung!"
Is this level of pure-heartedness actually a crime?
Ye-chan answered by silently stepping into a shower stall and turning the water valve. Gi Tae-rang went quiet. The silence, however, did not last long.
"Hyung, could I maybe borrow some shampoo?"
Ye-chan wordlessly passed the shampoo over the partition.
"Thank you! Hyung, want me to scrub your back?"
"No, I'm fine."
"Aww, come on, you don't have to feel bad about it."
"I just don't want to."
"Ah, yes sir."
At this rate, Ye-chan had a sinking feeling he'd be listening to nonsense the entire way back to the room. He finished showering in a hurry and stepped out, locking eyes with Jeong Ui-tak, who was drying his hair. Ui-tak had been sniffling quietly all through the broadcast, and now his eyes were properly swollen.
"You're popular."
Are you kidding me?
Ye-chan answered with his eyes instead of words.
Immediately after Chumaf episode two aired, ticket applications opened for the first-round performance audience. At the same time, full videos of every trainee's first- and second-round grade tests were released all at once on N-net iTube.
Ye-chan checked his own video first, then carefully went through the videos of the trainees he was considering debuting with, one by one.
Seeing the full unedited versions really shows you what their skills are actually like.
After reviewing every video on his checklist, Ye-chan turned to social media.
Fandoms that were starting to grow in size were pushing streaming hard to boost the view counts of the trainees they supported. Ye-chan checked the steeply climbing view counts of the top-tier trainees for a moment, then went to bed.