One More Chance
The next morning, once every member of the team had gathered, Park Na-gil turned to Ye-chan.
"While Ye-chan works on the arrangement, the rest of us should lock in the choreography."
"The arrangement's done."
"Huh?"
Park Na-gil's eyes went wide. Instead of explaining, Ye-chan plugged a USB into the speaker.
"……"
No one said a word until the cleanly finished track had played all the way through.
"……When did you even do this?"
Jeong Ui-tak stared at Ye-chan like he couldn't believe it.
"Woke up early this morning."
Ye-chan had been taking a light lap around the dorm for exercise when he lucked into a staff member prepping for filming and got the key to the editing room. The gear they'd hauled all the way out to this mountain location was expensive enough that he'd only meant to touch it for a minute — and the next thing he knew, he'd finished the outro.
Am I actually a workaholic?
Back before the resets, the company staff and the members of Lee:Spirit had all said the same thing, and he'd brushed it off as them worrying over nothing. Now even complete strangers were wearing that exact same look, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of self-reflection.
"You worked hard, Ye-chan."
Park Na-gil finally snapped out of it, clapped Ye-chan on the shoulder, and steered the mood back on track.
"Alright. Let's run it from the top with this track."
"Yes!"
Ye-chan watched the others head to their positions. For a Vocal Team 5 that had started out thinking the team draw was a disaster, the atmosphere was surprisingly good.
Kim Su-young, who'd been openly sour about the part distribution, had somehow been soothed into showing up with a clear face and throwing himself into practice. Kim Ju-young — the team's only real weak link — was clinging desperately to his own part so he wouldn't fall behind. And with Woo Hwi-gyum and Park Na-gil, there was no real friction; they were getting along just fine.
The team stats aren't bad either.
Moving through the steps in time with the song, Ye-chan pulled up the status window he'd checked when Park Na-gil clapped his shoulder.
Park Na-gil didn't have any standout stats, but nothing was dragging him down either.
And then there was Jeong Ui-tak — whose skill was solid enough that Ye-chan still couldn't figure out how he'd only gotten a B-Grade.
Well, if you only watch the test footage on iTube, B-Grade makes sense.
Ye-chan thought back to the stage he'd seen of Jeong Ui-tak on iTube. Caught completely off guard by the sudden appearance of the judges, his choreography details had fallen apart and his pitch in the opening had been shaky at best.
Looks like he struggles with unexpected situations — but a competition stage isn't a guerrilla concert, so he'll be fine. Quick thinking comes with time.
While Ye-chan was busy analyzing his teammates, the production staff called the trainees together.
"Vocal teams, please move to the multipurpose room on the third floor. Dance teams, to the main hall on the second floor."
Mid-check, then.
Even as they'd steadily raised the difficulty of both the vocals and the choreography details throughout practice, the team had followed along diligently without a single complaint. The last run-through hadn't been half bad — so no matter how sharp-tongued the judges were, they probably wouldn't tear them apart.
"Is Team 1 planning to go home together? I don't see a shred of will to debut."
"Is this Ji-woo's solo track? The other six look like backup dancers. Completely."
"I honestly thought Team 3 just moved into the dorms. What have you been doing from the day before yesterday until today? Did you practice? You did? And this is the result? Seriously?"
"I always hated that whole thing about the number four sounding like death and being unlucky. But after watching Team 4 today — yeah, it's unlucky. Really unlucky."
Even as the four teams ahead of them got shredded one after another, Ye-chan stayed perfectly calm.
"Next, Team 5."
Vocal trainer Hyeon Ji-yeong, who had been coldly watching Team 4 shuffle back to their seats in defeat, called Team 5 forward.
"Let's go."
At Park Na-gil's word, Ye-chan stood — and his hand brushed against Jeong Ui-tak's.
"……?"
"Did that hurt? Why'd you stop?"
Their eyes met. Jeong Ui-tak asked it with the same expression as always.
But just like his fingers — strangely, unnaturally cold — Jeong Ui-tak's face had gone deathly pale.
"No. It's nothing."
Ye-chan steadied himself and took his place in front of the trainers.
"Vocal Team 5. Beginning Erased."
The moment leader Park Na-gil finished speaking, the familiar intro began to play. Ye-chan focused on the song while stealing a glance at Jeong Ui-tak.
This stage is going to be a disaster.
The face of the boy standing next to him had gone past white — it was turning blue.
"It's such an unusually bright day that I thought of you. No — the truth is, even on cloudy days, I think of you."
Park Na-gil, on Vocal 1, opened the song. No matter how many times Ye-chan heard it, it was a lyrical track that felt nothing like Jupiter — a group famous for fierce choreography and cryptic lyrics. Park Na-gil was clearly a performer who thrived under pressure; more emotion poured into his singing now than it ever had in practice.
When Park Na-gil's part ended, Woo Hwi-gyum's low register took over.
Next is me, then Jeong Ui-tak after that……
Ye-chan pushed the noise out of his head and put strength into the balls of his feet.
"I want to leave only this behind — that you and I once loved each other."
The main vocal's part passed, and next came the chorus — where the center stepped into the main.
"……Erased. If I could erase it, how wonderful that would be."
We're screwed.
He missed the entrance beat from the start. His pitch wavered, and even the choreography stuttered. Jeong Ui-tak was past saving.
I can't go down with him.
Ye-chan sang the returning main vocal part as if nothing had happened. The other members looked briefly rattled, but they held the line — singing and moving exactly as they'd practiced. Jeong Ui-tak did everything he could to claw back from that first mistake, but his voice trembled like a goat's bleat all the way through the final phrase.
"I want to leave only this behind — that you and I once loved each other."
With Ye-chan's last part, the song ended, and a heavy silence settled over the multipurpose room.
"……Team 5, overall, you prepared well. The arrangement was done by trainee Ha Ye-chan, correct?"
"Yes."
"I felt this last time too — your arranging skill is genuinely excellent. You've got a real sense for it."
Composer Gye Jeong-yeop nodded with a good-natured smile.
"Thank you."
But every member of Team 5, Ye-chan included, was fixated on that single word: overall.
"Next, Trainer Hyeon Ji-yeong?"
At Gye Jeong-yeop's cue, Hyeon Ji-yeong shook her head.
"It's a Jupiter song, so let's hear from Ga-won first."
"Shall we, then?"
Lee Ga-won smiled brightly and lifted the mic.
"I think everyone who watched this stage had the same thought. Even if five people do well, if one person fails, that stage cannot be a success. Trainee Jeong Ui-tak — you're going to need a lot more practice."
"……Yes."
Jeong Ui-tak forced the answer out in a shaking voice. Lee Ga-won wasn't finished.
"I feel bad for the other five, but I honestly have nothing to say to them. Trainee Jeong Ui-tak was the only one who stood out. He stuck out that much, all by himself."
"That's exactly what I was going to say. Even Ye-chan was just right. Ui-tak, how can the center do that?"
Hyeon Ji-yeong cut in, sounding thoroughly satisfied.
"Trainee Kim Ju-young seemed to suit this song remarkably well. Best I've seen from him so far."
"I really liked the part where Hwi-gyum and Ye-chan connect. Their chemistry is excellent. And Su-young — you could feel him gritting his teeth. There was something there."
"Trainee Park Na-gil seems to have led the team well as leader."
Unlike the other teams, the praise went on for a while. Through every individual compliment, Jeong Ui-tak never lowered his head. Even with a face that looked ready to die, he kept his chin up toward the judges' table — and Ye-chan sighed inwardly.
The ones who acted like nothing was wrong on the outside were always the ones who took the deepest hits.
"In any case, it was good overall — but I think the center position might be worth reconsidering."
With Gye Jeong-yeop's final words, the long mid-evaluation finally ended.
"Thank you!"
Six voices rang out at once.
Even after leaving the multipurpose room, no one opened their mouth easily.
"Let's head to the practice room for now."
Park Na-gil broke the awkward silence, and the others nodded.
Jeong Ui-tak's T-shirt was plastered to his back as he walked ahead. Seeing him soaked through with cold sweat like that, it was obvious how badly his mental state had cracked.
"Um."
The moment they reached the practice room, Kim Su-young — who'd clearly been dying to say something the entire walk over — couldn't hold it in any longer and raised his hand.
"What is it, Su-young?"
Kim Su-young glanced briefly at Jeong Ui-tak.
Shit. Wait. Don't you dare.
But before Ye-chan could get a word out, Kim Su-young forced the sentence through.
"Shouldn't we change the center?"
……Ah. I told you not to.
While Ye-chan pressed his thumb into his temple, Kim Su-young pressed on as if he'd never hesitated at all.
"Ui-tak, I know this is a hard thing to hear. But this is our first performance evaluation, and we have to prioritize making the best possible stage, don't we? Composer Gye Jeong-yeop said so too — that it'd be better if we changed the center."
Kim Su-young gave Jeong Ui-tak one pitying look, then turned to address the rest of the team. Ye-chan cut him off in a flat voice.
"He said it might be worth reconsidering. He didn't say to change it."
"Isn't that basically the same thing, hyung?"
"Ui-tak didn't mess up in practice. He made one mistake just now. Jumping to conclusions feels too hasty."
Yes, the stage had fallen apart — but this was only the mid-evaluation. He hadn't been slacking in practice. Swapping someone's position over a single mistake was a surefire way to drive the team atmosphere into the ground.
What happens once happens twice. The second anyone in the new position makes even a minor slip, they'll come running to swap them out again just as fast.
And once it got to that point, whether they switched again or not, there was no way the actual stage was going to go well.
Behind a frowning Kim Su-young, Kim Ju-young stepped forward carefully.
"But he messed up at a critical moment. He could do the same on the real stage, when it matters even more. It's honestly a little worrying."
"Today's mid-check came out of nowhere. We'll have plenty of time to prepare for the actual stage."
"Hyung, Ui-tak messed up both times during the grade test too. Didn't you see the video?"
"Our team's song, our members, our parts — all of it was decided by lottery. Anyone can have complaints about that. But the center? We chose him ourselves. We picked him together, so we take responsibility together."
Kim Su-young snorted at Ye-chan's words.
"I didn't vote for Ui-tak."
"S-Su-young……!"
This little—
A flustered Kim Ju-young grabbed his arm, but Kim Su-young ignored him and glared straight at Ye-chan.
Just as an incredulous Ye-chan was about to fire back, someone tugged on his sleeve.
Jeong Ui-tak?
He turned. Jeong Ui-tak was gripping Ye-chan's T-shirt with hands that shook violently.
Despite a face that looked ready for a hospital bed, his voice was calm.
"I'll practice more so I don't make mistakes. Please just give me one more chance."
From those white-knuckled fingertips, clenched so hard the blood had drained from them, Ye-chan saw pure desperation.
For a moment, he remembered his own trainee days at Lee Entertainment before the resets — just as desperate as Jeong Ui-tak, and now impossibly far away.
Ye-chan decided to wrap this up as cleanly as possible for the poor kid.
Across many regressions, he'd learned the easiest, fastest way to end a fight when members split into camps of I'm right, you're wrong.
"What do you think, Na-gil hyung?"
Pull someone else in. And the older or higher-ranking that someone was, the better it worked.
Park Na-gil was sharp enough to know that protecting the team's atmosphere from total collapse mattered more than any slim chance of becoming main vocal himself. Ye-chan was sure of it.
Kim Su-young opened his mouth, looking aggrieved.
"Hey, why are you dragging hyung into a conversation between us—!"
"How is this a conversation between us? This is about our team's center position."
"Enough!"
Park Na-gil, who had been standing with his arms crossed just listening, cut them off.
"The center is……"