The Musician Enters the Audition (1)

Choi Pilseung PD was monitoring the live broadcast.

"She's finally on."

The screen showed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Jiyeong's interview footage. At that moment, the youngest assistant director, Lee PD, who had been staring intently at his tablet PC, furrowed his brow and spoke up.

"Um... ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠PD-nim. The real-time ratings are lower than expected."

Compared to the massive hype about having an unprecedented guest, the live viewer count fell short of expectations.

"Plus, the real-time chat room vibe isn't great either. Half the comments are malicious ones like 'So she's the hospital director's daughter—figures the broadcasters got bought off with money' or 'That chart #1 must be charting too.' It seems the chaebol heiress frame and charting rumor are giving her a bad rep."

Lee PD glanced worriedly at Choi PD. But Choi PD didn't bat an eye.

"Aigoo, Lee PD. Oh, Lee PD."

Choi PD clicked his tongue and looked at Lee PD.

"These days, people don't consume TV—they consume controversy. Live ratings? That's just a numbers game for the advertisers now."

"But if topicality drops..."

"Topicality? You're thinking too small."

Choi PD pointed to the Nertube admin page on one side of the monitor. The video ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hadn't even gone up yet, but the waitlist under the scheduled post had already surpassed 50,000.

"This is just the start. Right after the broadcast ends, our official channel drops the clips and those one-minute shorts. The reactors will pounce on them like sharks, spreading them everywhere with clickbait titles like 'Chaebol Idol's Shocking Talent' or '#1 Singer Declares Audition Comeback.'"

Choi PD's eyes gleamed.

"People don't watch the live—they savor what comes after."

Lee PD nodded, his expression shifting to one of realization.

"Great visuals, right? A #1 artist on the music charts deciding to start from the bottom in a survival audition? What a thrilling narrative."

Choi PD stood from his chair and stretched.

"That audition program Jiyeong declared for... It's MNA's Voice of Legend, right?"

"Yes, exactly. Word is the production team there is in chaos. Phones are ringing off the hook confirming if Han Jiyeong is really joining."

"By the way, Luminus CEO Kim Taesung is on the main producer lineup. Does Jiyeong know that and still declared?"

At Choi PD's words, Lee PD's eyes widened round.

"So he'll have to face the singer he kicked out, right from the judge's seat?"

"And not just any contestant. Korea's hottest #1 artist crawling back in on her own two feet."

Choi PD was already sketching the edit layout for Voice of Legend's first episode in his head. Kim Taesung, smug in the flashy judge's seat. Han Jiyeong standing before him, no titles, just her participant number. The moment their gazes clash in the air—a frozen silence.

"Kuh, killer visuals. Split screen: flustered, stammering Kim Taesung and Jiyeong's utterly indifferent expression. Two minutes of that? Ratings through the roof."

Choi PD chuckled and tapped the stack of papers on his desk.

"MNA's Kang PD is laughing his ass off this time. Epic drama walking in on its own two feet while he sits pretty. Must hurt."

A few days after The Spotlight Han Jiyeong episode aired.

The Han Jiyeong Minor Gallery was created.

"...What the hell is Mamma Tong."

Whether my chest got squished by the guitar or not, why are you all freaking out?

After The Spotlight filming, my life spun into overdrive, making the "total bum" label feel like a joke.

Click.

I flipped on the power in my personal studio at the end of the hall—fully kitted out with Mom's full support. Soft blue lights illuminated the gear, and the muffling silence of the soundproof booth enveloped me.

"Hoo..."

I sank deep into the chair and started the metronome.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

The steady beat woke every brain cell. What I was prepping now was the arrangement for Voice of Legend's first prelims.

Singers who could just belt out tunes were a dime a dozen. Stepping into that inferno of an audition hall with the "#1 artist" tag meant half-assed stages wouldn't shut up the public.

I set the guitar on my lap and plucked a string.

Twang— ring—

The faint vibration at my fingertips. Five years of self-hypnosis—"no talent"—had suppressed my creative urges, but now they were exploding.

Melodies danced wildly in my head. Past life's musical knowledge clashed with this life's honed senses, sparking new inspiration.

'Acoustic riff here? Nah, loop station instead.'

'Or go a cappella intro to spotlight the voice.'

Once ideas flowed, they wouldn't stop. I scribbled sheet music, fired up the MIDI program to lay beats. Looping, tweaking, re-recording the same section for hours felt electric, not tedious.

"Yeah, that's it."

I glared at the monitor, coffee long gone cold. I blasted the demo track I'd pulled an all-nighter on through the speakers.

"CEO Kim Taesung. Wait for me."

I was dying to see his face when he heard this arrangement.

A few weeks later.

MNA Voice of Legend finals Round 1 filming day.

The massive broadcasting studio buzzed with taut tension.

81 finalists who'd clawed through brutal prelims, participant numbers pinned to their chests, eyed each other warily in the waiting room.

At the front of the studio, under dazzling lights, four judges sat in the panel.

The standout was Kim Taesung, of course. Luminus Entertainment CEO—and to these contestants, a grim reaper wielding life-or-death power.

Beside him, the legendary diva who'd dominated 90s music, Kang Soyoung. Trendy genius producer Terry Oh, behind countless idol hits. And sharp-tongued singer-songwriter Park Jinwoo.

"Alright, the grand journey begins!"

The MC's booming voice echoed through the studio.

Among the 81: seasoned mid-tier idols, agency trainees, street buskers. But today, no names. Just numbers on their chests.

"Now, the first contestant to kick off Finals Round 1!"

The MC checked his cue sheet and bellowed.

"Participant #1! To the stage!"

The symbolic #1. And everyone instinctively knew ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who it was.

Footsteps echoed slowly from the dark backstage passage.

"...!"

Kim Taesung's pupils shook violently from the judge's seat.

"Participant #1."

All the studio lights crawled from Han Jiyeong's toes up to her face.

Kang Soyoung, Terry Oh, Park Jinwoo—the three judges' gazes openly flicked to the guy next to them, Kim Taesung.

Kim Taesung stiffened, swallowing dryly. Knowing the cameras were on him, he forced a smile, but couldn't hide the twitching corner of his mouth.

The MC gripped his mic, smoothing things over.

"Called by number, but I think everyone here—and the whole nation—knows this participant's name."

Then, senior diva Kang Soyoung lightly raised her hand for the floor.

"One question. Why enter this brutal audition? You have more to lose."

"To prove my skills."

Jiyeong unpacked her guitar from its case right after answering. She sat, plugged in, tuned—her hands moved with effortless mastery.

Terry Oh whispered to Park Jinwoo as they watched.

"Gonna sing that #1 track, right?"

"Probably. It's what the public craves most. Her The Spotlight live was such a tease—I wanna hear the full thing."

Not just judges—audience expected On the Road's intro too.

MC wrapped up the rules.

"Finals Round 1: Need majority pass—three or more judges. Even if you fail, a judge's one-time Super Pass saves you. Ready...?"

Jiyeong nodded. Her slender fingers rested on the strings.

"Participant #1, stage start."

Twang— ring—

A sharp, tense minor riff clawed through the studio.

"...!"

Kim Taesung's eyes flipped in shock.

This familiar rhythm, provocative melody. It was Luminus's Velvet Night new track, Good Night.

An idol dance track reimagined in a dreamy arrangement with just acoustic guitar and loop station.

Jiyeong parted her lips for the first verse.