Concept Evaluation (3)

"You're just gonna say that out loud?"

"Aren't you being a little too honest, figuring it'll get edited out anyway?"

"Weren't we all thinking the same thing?"

At one composer's remark, the trainers and the other composers burst out laughing.

Meanwhile, the lights washing over the stage began to fade, and for a heartbeat the hall fell utterly still. The audience held its breath, the air itself drawn taut with anticipation.

Then a ferocious synth tore through the silence.

At the same instant, a blaze of crimson erupted across the LED screens, and a spotlight punched down onto center stage. Costumes of silver and black — sleek, futuristic — caught the light and flashed like drawn steel. And standing at the heart of it all was Lee Seo-yeon.

Aaaah! I want to scream!

But I had to hold it in. This was a moment that demanded held breath and total focus.

Seo-yeon's opening lines cracked the song wide open, and from the back of the stage the other members emerged one by one. They moved as if walking the beat itself — then, on a single count, hurled their bodies into the choreography like they'd been thrown.

"Whoa..."

"Wow... Lee Seo-yeon is a real intro specialist."

"This team looks incredible from the second they appear!"

Gasps spilled from the audience. Seo-yeon locked those signature sharp eyes on the front of the house and carved through the lead with movements that had real weight behind them. Every clean line of her body seemed to claim the stage as her own.

Kang Se-rin's voice flooded the hall. The instant she opened her mouth, a tone both crystalline and heavy unfurled through the air.

"Whoa..."

"That's no joke."

"That's Se-rin, right?"

Small, stunned murmurs drifted from the seats. Se-rin seized the song's atmosphere in a single ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠breath. Her voice carried more force than it had in rehearsal, and it pulled every listener in at once. The timid girl from before was gone; on that stage, she was overflowing with confidence.

The chorus hit, and the entire stage detonated into performance. A formation locked in around Seo-yeon, and she drove the group forward with movements that had real power in them. Even through the blistering tempo, their lines never wavered — a razor-sharp, unshakable attack.

Seo-yeon the Great! You're so damn cool!

The chorus choreography, every member launching into the air and landing as one, was enough to swallow the whole stage. In that moment even Baek Eun-bi and Han Yu-ri wore expressions that could cut glass. Every time the cameras swept to a new face, another gasp tore out of the audience.

The second verse unfolded into something even more intricate. The cameras tracked Seo-yeon at center, and she left a mark that would not fade — crisp body waves, a face full of charisma, every expression landing like a performance of its own.

"Wow, Seo-yeon should really be an actress."

"Look at those expressions."

"I'm telling you, that is not a trainee."

"What I still want to know is why she doesn't have an agency."

"That's right — Seo-yeon doesn't have an agency. She's so good I completely forgot."

"Shh. Shh."

The trainers and composers could not stop marveling. And when the camera threaded between the members and found Kang Se-rin, she too was staring straight down the lens, every ounce of the song's feeling burning in her eyes.

"Se-rin's improved so much."

"Whenever there was choreography she used to lock up her face just trying to keep the counts. Now she's got room to actually act."

"Doesn't it feel like everyone who teams up with Seo-yeon grows ridiculously fast?"

"Seo-yeon definitely has the makings of a leader."

The stage rolled on.

In that instant the blazing crimson lights washed over into blue, and the atmosphere turned cinematic. The choreography settled, just slightly, so the vocal-driven section could take the weight — a part built to wring every drop of feeling from the song. Kang Se-rin stepped slowly forward.

For that single phrase, her voice filled every seat in the house. Wound together with the reverb wrapping the venue, the sound sank even deeper, richer. A ripple of goosebumps moved through the audience.

"Whoa. That's actually insane."

"The vocals are crazy — Se-rin!"

The final chorus slammed in, and the energy on that stage climbed to its peak. Lasers carved the air. The members dragged up every last reserve and delivered a performance with nothing left unspent. Seo-yeon, holding center to the very last beat, commanded the stage with an intensity that felt like a scene from a film.

The instant Se-rin's high note tore free, even the trainees watching from the waiting room erupted.

"Wooooow!"

"This team is literally a debut stage."

"I genuinely feel like I'm watching a senior artist's set."

A last, savage synth riff ripped through the hall, and every member snapped into the final pose as one. A finish without a single tremor in it.

The song cut. The stage went dark. But the seats were already roaring.

"That was insane!!!"

"Woooooooah!"

"This is an audition stage? That's an awards-show performance!"

"Isn't this a showcase?!"

"Encore! Encore!"

Fans clapped until their hands had to hurt, and more than a few were waving banners with faces wrecked by feeling. It had been a trainees' stage. It was no longer a trainees' stage. They were already shining like idols who had arrived fully formed.

The second we came offstage, the tension went out of all of us at once — like our bodies had been holding themselves together by force and had finally been allowed to let go. The audience's cheers were still ringing in my ears from behind. Was it actually over? My heart was still slamming against my ribs.

"Aaaaah! It's oveeeer!"

Yu-ri threw both arms into the air and howled.

"You scared me!"

Eun-bi unnie flinched so hard I couldn't help laughing. A second later her round eyes lit up, and she shot her own hands into the air right after Han Yu-ri.

"Me too! I wanna scream too! Aaaaah!!!"

"Unnie, don't copy the weird stuff."

"I don't care! I just wanted to scream with you!"

Eun-bi unnie waved both hands and bounced in place. Sweat-soaked hair was plastered to her forehead, but her face looked like the happiest thing in the world.

So cute. How is this an unnie. She's the maknae.

That was when Se-rin, standing quietly beside me, drifted into my field of view. She was still fidgeting with her fingers, head ducked, looking as awkward as ever. She had sung with that much presence onstage — and the moment she stepped down, she had folded straight back into herself.

I nudged her shoulder like it was nothing.

"Se-rin. What was it the composer said last time?"

"......Huh?"

She lifted her head. I let a teasing smile pull at my mouth.

"That you sing better than artists who've already debuted, was it?"

The tips of her ears went red.

"Th-that was... just them being polite, probably."

"If they were just being polite when they got that excited and shouted okay, why didn't they do it for anyone else?"

Han ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Yu-ri sparkled her way over to Se-rin.

"Right! We all heard it together! They went, 'Oh, that's so good?' — completely blown away!"

"Yeah! And her recording wrapped the fastest, too."

"Hold on, unnie, let's get the facts straight. Seo-yeon was even faster."

"Ugh..."

Yu-ri's bluntness put a dejected little look on Eun-bi unnie's face, but Yu-ri did not budge. Se-rin, for her part, had no idea what to do with herself, tapping the floor with the toe of her shoe. The corner of her mouth had lifted, though. She didn't look unhappy.

"Today's stage was even better than then. You did really well. You worked so hard."

I reached toward her and offered a light fist. Se-rin eyed it carefully, hesitated a beat, then brought her own knuckles to mine.

"......Th-thank you."

A smile spread across my face before I could stop it.

We headed back to the monitor room and started watching the other teams.

"Oh, they really nailed the killing part."

Everyone on those stages was giving everything they had, and you could feel the hours behind it — the grind, the repetition, the sheer volume of practice.

"The kids are all good."

"It would've been better if we'd gone first. Everyone's so good it's making me nervous."

The trainees muttered to themselves, locked on the screens. I followed the flow of the stages with them. And then, before I quite realized it, the team I had been waiting for was called.

I straightened without thinking. Anticipation rose in my chest, warm ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and sudden.

Come to think of it, I had entered this audition for Na-bin in the first place... and we had never once ended up on the same team.

I've actually spent way more time with Yu-ri, Se-rin, and Eun-bi unnie.

Se-rin and Eun-bi unnie were even on the same team as me for the second time already. Well. This wasn't bad either. If I had been on Na-bin's team I would have been happy the entire time we practiced — but then I never would have gotten to watch her like this, from the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠audience.

Of course I still wanted to stand on the same stage. Just picturing it — smiling through the prep, sharing the same moment with Na-bin — was enough to make my hands unsteady.

And standing on a stage... now that I've actually done it, it's fun.

Was it fun because I was good at it? I didn't know. What I did know was that it was genuinely enjoyable — more than I had expected, and by a lot.

All those feelings were still crossing when the stage lights came up. The instant Na-bin appeared, I forgot even to breathe, staring at the monitor.

And before long, I felt that something was off.