The Ranking Ceremony (1)
…Was that really my face?
I stared at the screen, dumbfounded. I was certain that when I had watched Na-bin's stage, I had worn nothing more than a faint, measured smile. That was it. That was all it had been.
And yet the face on the broadcast right now was completely gone. The corners of my mouth were one degree short of hooking over my ears, and my lips had fallen so far open a fly could have flown in without my noticing. I could suddenly understand why the trainees had burst out laughing.
…That's the face of a hardcore fan watching their bias perform live.
I wanted to bury my head, but I couldn't. Na-bin's stage was still playing on the broadcast. In the end I just half-covered my face and kept my eyes locked on the screen.
"Unnie, what even is that~ That's so funny!"
Na-bin looked over at me and dissolved into bright, ringing laughter. Something in my chest gave a sharp little tug.
If I made Na-bin laugh, that's enough.
If she would just keep smiling like that — that happy, unguarded smile — I didn't care if I looked like an idiot on national television. While I was still thinking that, Na-bin's stage ended, and all that was left was the results.
"Next, we will announce the individual vote counts for Electric Fever Team 1."
But before the numbers appeared, the broadcast cut to a shot of the trainees startling in surprise. Then a commercial slammed onto the screen. The corner of my mouth lifted, just slightly.
Which means this is the most important scene.
The flow was obvious. Whether it was Na-bin or me, our standing had all but locked into orbit. If this had been some ordinary trainee, there would have been no reason to slap a commercial in front of it and milk the drama.
The broadcast came back. The same shot from right before the ad played again, and then the results were announced. My score appeared, and a caption dropped in beneath it.
A wave of gasps and admiration broke among the trainees, and the camera angle slid straight down. This time it was Park Hye-in's score.
A single digit.
The caption beneath it read:
I watched the screen without moving.
That's just cruel.
The next cut went straight into the declaration of defeat. The atmosphere on the broadcast sank another notch. The editing was painfully clear — as if they were driving a nail through the sentence Park Hye-in is the reason they lost.
It's not exactly wrong. But this is vicious.
From her attitude before they even took the stage, through the reactions of everyone around her during the actual performance, all the way to the results — every single piece of footage pointed in the same direction. Park Hye-in sat with her lips pressed tight, staring quietly at the screen.
They want her dragged. That's the whole point.
Honestly, I had figured she would catch heat once the episode aired. I just hadn't expected the edit to be this blatant. Even a straight recitation of the facts would have been more than enough to draw criticism. This felt like they had built the episode around the words please hate her.
Then again, looked at another way, it wasn't even about tearing Park Hye-in down. It was an edit for my sake. After a broadcast like this, I didn't need a crystal ball to know what my public opinion would look like. Park Hye-in had just been the one who took the damage in the process.
Either way, I need to be careful from here on out.
These broadcast people were terrifying.
Right after the episode aired, public opinion swung even harder behind Lee Seo-yeon. Exactly as she had expected.
The day of the first ranking ceremony.
"Everyone. Today is the day. Today, trainees who do not place within the top fifty will be eliminated."
The host's voice spilled from the television. A viewer sat leaned back against the sofa, taking an absent sip of her drink without ever letting her eyes leave the screen. Elimination? That didn't matter. Seo-yeon wasn't going anywhere. There was only one thing she actually cared about.
Seo-yeon can get first, right?
The trainees gathered in the ranking hall, and a wall of taut, nervous faces filled the screen. She expected them to start announcing from fiftieth place immediately. They didn't. The camera abruptly abandoned the rankings altogether and started rolling through the trainees' everyday lives instead.
…What?
It was absurd, and it was also a painfully familiar pattern. She sighed. They were dragging it out again. Training footage, everyone eating together, laughing and chatting in the hallway — clip after clip unspooled across the screen. And then that scene came on.
"I've never filmed a self-cam before so it's so awkward… do it with me! You will, right?"
Her eyes lit up. Yu Na-bin had gone to Seo-yeon first and asked her to film a vlog. She snatched up her phone on the spot. She had to post.
She snorted at the flood of replies. Apparently everyone had been thinking the same thing. On the television, Na-bin beamed and posed in front of Seo-yeon's camera. The camera in Seo-yeon's hands wobbled, and a tiny caption popped up in the corner of the screen.
Hands trembling with fan devotion (˵ ͡ ͜ʖ ͡ ˵)
"Ah, that's actually hilarious. Even the broadcast is pushing Seo-yeon as a Yu Na-bin stan."
The episode was getting better and better. But the easy, delightful mood didn't last. It was time to get back to the point.
"We will now announce the trainee in forty-first place!"
The host's voice climbed.
"In forty-first place, trainee Kang Se-rin!"
The moment Kang Se-rin's name was called, the viewer's eyes went wide. On screen, Kang Se-rin held back tears as she took the microphone.
"Thank you. Honestly, I was so scared of this ranking ceremony. Being able to come this far means so much, and to everyone who voted for me…"
Watching Se-rin break down, the viewer muttered to herself.
"Good. She's the only one who said she wanted Seo-yeon as center."
She watched Se-rin walk onto the stage and let out a breath. Now she just needed to hear Seo-yeon's rank.
"Only three rankings remain."
Her eyes went wide. First place, second place, and fiftieth. Those were the only seats left. Seo-yeon's name still had not been called. She set her phone down. Her heart was pounding for no good reason.
There's no way Seo-yeon gets eliminated, right?
That was ridiculous. After how much screen time Lee Seo-yeon had gotten this episode? She was first, or she was second. That had to be it. She knew that, and her throat still went bone-dry.
"We will begin with the trainee in second place."
The host's voice rolled through the room. On screen, every trainee's face tightened at once.
The host drew a breath. A commercial cut in.
"Oh, come ON!"
She shouted at the television. Still wound tight, she grabbed her phone again. The community was already losing its mind.
She glared at the screen and muttered under her breath.
"Who's out here talking about fiftieth place."