Position Evaluation (1)

I tilted my head the moment I saw Park Hye-in's choice.

I couldn't quite wrap my head around that decision. Rap, all of a sudden? It was a far cry from anything that suited Park Hye-in's style.

Did she figure she was going to get pushed out anyway, so she deliberately picked a song nobody else would want?

It was a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠plausible enough strategy. Maybe she'd decided it was better to throw in the towel from the start than keep getting shoved aside and stuck with a song she didn't want. Or maybe, thinking of her image, she wanted to project a generous attitude by yielding right out of the gate.

Even so, it's a stupid choice.

Who was going ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to look at last place picking a leftover and call it generosity? If the cameras had caught her getting displaced over and over, she might've at least earned some sympathy votes.

She probably doesn't realize that if it looks like she gave up, she'll just come across as unmotivated — which is even worse.

Then again, all of this was just my speculation. For all I knew, she genuinely wanted to rap.

Not my problem.

Right now, figuring out my own pick mattered more than worrying about Park Hye-in.

Vocals and dance were going to be a bloodbath. Plenty of contestants had made an impression with their choreography this round, and just as many had left a mark with their singing. Most of them would gravitate toward whatever they were best at, and the applicants would pile up accordingly. That much was obvious.

So was rap the least competitive option? Not quite. There were girls the show was already pushing hard in that category — the ones they'd framed as this program's resident hip-hop representatives. Share a stage with them, and unless you were genuinely outstanding, the votes would all flow their way.

No point taking a reckless gamble.

Even if a hip vibe came through naturally in my dancing, what actually came out of my mouth when I rapped was a completely different story.

That left vocals and dance.

Once I take rap off the table, the picture gets a lot clearer.

Na-bin was definitely going for dance. I still remembered the stage she'd turned into a hot-topic performance in the dance position in my previous life.

Then I go vocals.

Now the question was which song.

First, no recent releases. The newer the song, the more vividly people remembered the original — which meant a higher chance of getting compared. Famous vocal showcases were also a minefield. Unless you were exceptionally good, you'd hear the original is better and a trainee is still just a trainee.

Overly emotional ballads were on hold for now. My first individual evaluation stage might lock me into that same image — but then again, some people might be hoping I'd deliver another performance like that. So, pending.

Songs with too much dance in them were out, too. Lean into the choreography and you'd invite unnecessary comparisons to the original artist. Change the choreography and you'd have to put in extra work creating new moves. Strip the choreography out entirely, and even a vocal track would risk falling flat.

That one, then.

And while I was making up my mind, my turn arrived.

"Trainee Lee Seo-yeon, please select your song."

I was already starting toward the song I'd decided on when I saw her. Kang Se-rin was standing right there.

...Ah.

Se-rin wouldn't be easy. I was confident I could beat her, of course. The problem was that we'd split the votes wide open.

This isn't simply about winning or losing.

It was a vote war, pure and simple. Teaming up with a main vocalist like Se-rin and splitting the votes was a choice I needed to avoid as much as possible.

That consideration added one more factor. Better to go for a song with as few members as possible rather than a crowded one. The reason was simple: even if the votes split evenly, the fewer people dividing them, the bigger my share. And the smallest teams were three-person ones.

Time to rethink.

I scanned the song list quickly. Then one title caught my eye.

A pop R&B track. A three-person team. And she was already on it.

Baek Eun-bi was on this song?

The girl who'd stuck close to Na-bin in my previous life. And she was on the three-person team I was about to pick.

Calculations spun through my head in an instant. Baek Eun-bi wasn't the lowest-ranked member of this team. Which meant she wouldn't get pushed out.

Getting closer to Baek Eun-bi this time around wouldn't be a bad thing, either.

At the very least, I might be able to naturally reconnect her and Na-bin. I kind of missed the chemistry between Baek Eun-bi — the eldest unnie who was short enough to pass for the maknae — and Na-bin, who'd been the tall center.

It was absolutely not that I missed Baek Eun-bi's devastating figure, so completely at odds with her petite height. Really.

Anyway, having someone wedge themselves between me and my bias wasn't exactly a pleasant thought, but if it was for Na-bin's happiness...

This is the right call.

I walked over immediately.

Sorry to the trainee I was about to displace, but I wasn't kind enough to settle for leftover spots. Picking an underfilled song might've given me a generous image, but it was an unnecessary move — one more likely to come across as trying too hard to look nice.

"And finally, first-place trainee Yu Na-bin will make her position selection."

The moment the MC finished speaking, the set fell dead silent. I bit my lip without meaning to.

Her choice won't change this time... right?

First place could pick whatever they wanted, no questions asked. Even so, a pointless tension crept over me.

In the thick of everyone's held breath, Na-bin moved. Unwavering eyes. Footsteps full of certainty.

Dance. Thank god, it was dance. My whole body went slack with relief.

Whew...

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. My reason for steering clear of Na-bin was the same as always. We'd both chosen the option where we could win.

If our positions had overlapped, one of us wouldn't get the benefit votes. I was fine going without — but she needed them. And since there was no guarantee Na-bin would come in first even if I yielded, picking a different position was the best play.

First hurdle, cleared.

And then.

What followed was the trainees' collective shock.

"What if we go heavier on the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠reverb here?"

"I think we should start by changing up the chord progression."

My mind went blank amid the heated discussion. The vocal position's additional mission was an original arrangement.

This is way harder than I expected!

I was only now realizing that singing well wasn't enough. We couldn't just perform the original as-is — we had to reconstruct the song and put it on stage.

And honestly, I couldn't understand a word of what my teammates were saying. It wasn't a matter of good or bad ideas. I had no idea what any given chord even felt like!

God, maybe I should've just gone dance...

Everything went hazy. If I'd gone dance? It wouldn't have mattered what song I ended up with.

I could've just freestyled and presented it as original choreography — that would've highlighted my skills.

No. No. I could not forget that this had been a choice for Na-bin. Don't regret it. If I'd gone dance, Na-bin's first place might've been in jeopardy. This was a decision so we could each take a hundred thousand votes. No point getting hung up on it.

"How were you thinking of changing the chord progression?"

Baek Eun-bi asked, jotting something down on paper. Eun-bi unnie, actually, as far as I was concerned. I was seventeen now, and she was twenty.

"First we need to decide whether we're keeping the original intact or putting a new style on it."

Yoon Se-ah, the other member, said, propping her chin on her hand.

"Personally, I think mixing in a little jazz feel over the original could work?"

"A jazz line over a pop color? Then the vocal line would change a bit too."

"If we take the chorus in a more rhythmic direction, going more emotional in the earlier parts would balance it out, right?"

"Yeah, exactly. And the accompaniment shouldn't just sit underneath — we should really play up the sense of space..."

I was in real trouble. Votes on stage were one thing — if you sang well, the audience would vote for you and you could take first. But what the broadcast showed was another problem entirely.

If I'm not careful, I'll look incompetent.

If the image of inflated skills stuck, my ranking could flip in no time. But if I pretended to know things I didn't, I could end up humiliating myself.

I really should've gone dance.

I was crying on the inside when—

"What do you think, Seo-yeon?"

Eun-bi unnie looked at me and asked. Just a casual question. But her tone felt incredibly gentle.

This is not the time to be having feelings about that.

The worst thing you could do when you didn't know something was nod along like you understood, only to make a bigger mistake later. If you don't know, just say you don't know. That was always the best move.

"I don't really know much about chords and stuff..."

The moment I said it, Baek Eun-bi beamed.

"That's okay. I still find it hard too."

She was so sweet.

"We don't have to talk in terms of specific chord progressions. You can arrange based on the feel of the song, or just your instincts, so feel free to share whatever comes to mind."

I melted into that kindness. So this was why Na-bin had leaned on her and fallen for her. Baek Eun-bi was clearly the unnie, and yet she gave off this maknae-like vibe. And she still never got buried by the younger members.

The mat-nae, through and through.

Not the kind of leader who seized control by force, but one who guided you softly, comfortably. She was so kind that even though she was older, it made you want to forget that and tease her...

...Hey! This is really not the time!

The problem was that even going by feel or instinct, I had absolutely no sense of which direction we should take. I had a vague recollection of who'd stood out in the vocal position in my previous life.

But which arrangement had gotten the attention...

I remembered!