Semi-Final (1)
What I had been dreading finally came true.
I was sitting on the living-room sofa, mindlessly peeling a tangerine, when an utterly ridiculous news caption filled the entire screen right in front of my eyes.
The news anchor’s crisp voice filled the living room.
“Singer Han Jiyoung, who has recently won massive love through her reverse climb on the music charts, has become a hot topic after subduing a serial illegal filming suspect at a late-night unmanned convenience store — without using a single act of violence.”
The jaw that had been chewing tangerine froze mid-bite.
……Without using a single act of violence?
It was so absurd that a hollow laugh slipped out of me.
No — I clearly full-swung a soda can straight into that lunatic’s nose. The guy’s nose was gushing blood all over the floor. It was a complete mess.
Maybe, with the city even handing me a commendation, the press had decided on their own to run a flattering version for the sake of my image.
But the next segment of the news cut to an interview with the police officer in charge.
“Ah, after analyzing the CCTV footage of the incident, we determined that Ms. Han Jiyoung throwing the can was clearly self-defense — in other words, a legitimate act of justified defense.”
The officer continued in an extremely solemn tone.
“Even though the suspect first pulled on her hoodie and initiated violence, putting her in a critical situation, Ms. Han Jiyoung avoided any further physical confrontation. The way she calmly dodged the incoming punches and guided the perpetrator into striking the wall himself, resulting in a fractured finger — that response is an excellent textbook example that every citizen should learn from.”
……Textbook, my ass.
The ripple from the news quickly spread into the online communities.
Is she a martial arts master or what?
Honestly, watching the netizens react was pretty entertaining. Buried deep in the sofa, I kept scrolling.
Then the reactions to yesterday’s aired episode of Voice of Legend — episode 6 — started popping up.
Episode 6. The round that covered the Round 3 nomination death match.
There were some strange comments mixed in, but the corners of my mouth were already smiling on their own.
That’s a relief.
Picking up the mic and taking her side must have actually helped. Scrolling a little further, I found a string of praise for the other contestants as well.
Reading the praise for Han Doyun made me feel proud myself.
But it wasn’t all joy. In the nature of a competition show, where there is a winner, there is always a loser.
“Luminous is already working overtime.”
I snorted at the fans’ sad reactions.
The studio audience might be aching over the sight of Naeun bawling after getting eliminated from the audition, but the real Naeun had already finished shooting her solo debut music video and was grinding her bones to dust in the practice room.
Once the single dropped, those fans would dry their tears and start cheering instead.
“I guess it’s my turn now.”
Step by step, I crossed the living room and opened the door to the studio.
The semi-finals weren’t far off.
Kang PD hadn’t taken his eyes off the monitor, scrolling with the mouse wheel. That was when the assistant PD bustled in carrying two canned coffees and launched into a flustered greeting.
“Kang PD, did you see the morning news?”
Kang PD accepted the can, rubbed the stiff back of his neck, and let out a dry little snort.
“Saw it. Convenience-store martial arts master.”
He cracked the tab and shook his head.
“Han Jiyoung, honestly. Leave her alone and she still drags incidents after her.”
“Whether it’s because of that or not, the rebroadcast ratings for the last episode went up quite a bit. Every community and SNS feed is plastered with Han Jiyoung talk. It feels like the public’s attention on our show has gotten a lot sharper, doesn’t it?”
Kang PD quietly nodded at the assistant’s excited report. As a director, this was absolutely something to celebrate.
It wasn’t even noise marketing — it was perfect buzz that came packaged with the positive title of “citizen hero.”
But Kang PD’s expression wasn’t entirely bright.
“It’s a good thing. That’s exactly why I’m uneasy.”
“Sorry? Uneasy?”
Kang PD set the can on the desk and spoke in a heavy, settled voice.
“Right now the public’s interest is disproportionately locked on Han Jiyoung as a person, more than on Voice of Legend as a program. Imagine if she gets eliminated in this semi-final. Interest in our show would drop by more than half overnight.”
Faced with Kang PD’s cold analysis, the assistant PD bit his lip like a man who had swallowed honey and gone mute.
In the industry, when a survival show’s buzz became too heavily concentrated on one contestant, and that contestant then left or was eliminated, it was extremely common for the entire program to lose its drive.
The assistant PD let out a long, frustrated sigh.
“Haa, exactly. Why did Seo Geonwoo have to make that choice…”
“…….”
“In a way, Kang Minhyuk and Han Jiyoung are a finals-level matchup for our show. Taking the two best cards we have and pairing them into one group just to throw one of them out right before the stage…”
The assistant PD stamped his feet as if the waste truly hurt.
“Whichever one goes, it’s such a waste of a card. For real.”
At the assistant’s grumbling, Kang PD propped his chin on laced fingers and stared alternately at Han Jiyoung’s and Kang Minhyuk’s profile photos on the monitor.
“That’s why he’s a master, I suppose.”
“Huh?”
“Broadcast people like us calculate ratings, buzz, the balance of the final stage… but a man like Seo Geonwoo only looks at musicality.”
Kang PD’s eyes flashed sharp.
“Still… it’s drying my blood, seriously.”
“If your blood weren’t drying, it wouldn’t be a survival show.”
Kang PD pulled his chair in and set his hand back on the mouse.
“How’s the audience application for the semi-final shoot?”
The assistant PD flicked a look at the tablet in his hands and answered with pride.
“Completely closed. The server nearly crashed the second we posted the notice. The competition rate is historic.”
Kang PD’s mouth curved up at that report.
“Well, well. The bureau chief’s bonus is going to taste awfully sweet, isn’t it?”
“Heh, right? This year’s variety division performance pay is basically locked in.”
The assistant PD chuckled along, matching Kang PD’s good mood.
Scrolling the wheel to bring Han Jiyoung’s face back up on the screen, Kang PD murmured as if he truly meant it.
“We really ought to thank Han Jiyoung. She brings the buzz even when she sits still — she’s our show’s little bundle of luck. A real lucky charm.”
Time passed, and the day of the semi-final dawned.
The final rehearsal before the main stage wrapped up in exactly the same fashion as last time.
Kang Minhyuk and I took turns climbing onto the stage and singing the same song, the same parts. And Seo Geonwoo’s reaction was identical down to the last syllable.
“Good work. I heard you well.”
A calm face that gave away nothing of what was inside.
Bleeding us dry right to the end.
Back in the waiting room after rehearsal, Kang Minhyuk and I sat at opposite ends of a wide sofa, keeping our distance.
On the cue sheet hanging on the wall were the names and order of the five groups performing today.
Group 5: Seo Geonwoo Team
(Han Jiyoung / Kang Minhyuk)
We were number five — in other words, the very last stage that would close out today’s semi-final.
Going last meant we had time to catch our breath while the stage was set. Conversely, it also meant we had to sit through every other team’s blood-soaked battle and endure this choking tension longer than anyone else.
“Haa……”
Beside me, Kang Minhyuk picked up a water bottle for what had to be the tenth time today.
And of course he did. If he didn’t receive the mic from Seo Geonwoo’s hand right before the stage, he would have to pack his bags on the spot and go home.
No one wanted to experience the humiliation of being discarded in front of countless audience members and dozens of cameras without ever singing a single verse.
“Don’t drink too much. You’ll need the bathroom before we go up.”
When I tossed the line out casually, Kang Minhyuk stopped mid-swallow and set the bottle down with an embarrassed smile.
“Ah, right. I know that in my head, but my lips keep burning up. You’re really something, Jiyoung. You’re not nervous at all?”
“Of course I am. My heart feels like it’s about to explode on the inside too.”
On the monitor mounted on the waiting-room wall, the situation outside the stage was being relayed live, and audience members were filling the seats one by one.
“In-ear check one more time! Standby, ten minutes!”
“Confirm Camera 3 rail, lighting team full standby!”
From the hallway outside, the staff’s urgent shouts and hurried footsteps for the live stage rang without pause.
Gulp.
I heard Kang Minhyuk swallow dryly again beside me.
I quietly closed my eyes and replayed the piano intro of Track 17 in my head, steadying my breath.
And then the appointed time arrived.
On the screen, the house lights of the studio audience went out all at once, and pitch-black darkness settled over everything.
Breaking the held-breath silence of the audience, a lavish opening theme surged up as dozens of pin lights crossed and poured toward the center of the stage.
Through the heart of that dazzling light, the MC walked out.
“Waaaaaaaaaa—!!!”
The moment the MC appeared, the roar of thousands of audience members swallowed the stage whole.
The MC swept the seats with a flushed expression, then thrust the cue sheet high and brought the mic to his lips.
“You’ve waited long enough! The stage where a new history of Korean music will be written!”
The MC’s booming voice rode the speakers and struck straight into the heart.
“Voice of Legend Semi-Final! We begin now!”