Eleven Takes
On the day of the signal song shoot, the trainees were packed onto a bus before the sun had even risen.
The destination was a massive studio on the outskirts of Gyeonggi Province.
Some ran through the choreography video on repeat with their earbuds in, while others closed their eyes and murmured the lyrics under their breath. I watched the scenery slide past the window, tapping the beat out against my fingers.
Today, of all days, I could not afford to make a single mistake.
The moment we arrived at the studio, everything descended into controlled chaos.
"First ten, into makeup! Go, go!"
"Fill the hair waiting spots from the front, please!"
Half of us were getting makeup done while the other half had their hair styled. With staff, trainees, and the filming crew all crammed into one narrow space, it was practically a war zone.
Irritated remarks flew back and forth—though the moment a camera swung into view, everyone's mood flipped like it had never existed at all.
"We meet again?"
At the familiar voice, I turned to find the hair designer who had handled my makeover.
"Hello. Thanks to you, my hair got a lot of compliments."
"Did it? Good to hear."
She nodded with a smile.
"My eye never fails me, after all."
"Thank you. I'm in your hands again today."
"Of course."
With practiced hands, she began working through my hair.
The signal song, titled Boy's Code like the program itself, was a song that ran straight through the show's core concept: boys shoving and competing against one another to push past the gate marked debut.
Which was why the styling put black tactical vests over school uniforms.
So they mixed school uniforms with techwear and threw in everything else that would sell. Very thorough.
The vibe was straight out of a death game contestants wore once upon a time.
"Any particular reason you picked scar makeup for the special item?"
the designer asked, gliding her flat iron.
"Figured anything attached to the body would just get in the way when I dance."
"That's fair."
She nodded.
"And—"
I added, without thinking much of it.
"a blood smear would at least catch people's eye."
The flat iron stopped mid-glide.
"Pfft—hold on—"
The designer's shoulders shook as she bowed her head.
Why is she suddenly—?
"I'm sorry."
Barely mastering her laughter, she took hold of my hair again.
"You just had to say it with that face."
Right at that moment—
Sheeek—
The flat iron slipped.
"Uh……?"
Reflected in the mirror, the ends of my hair were sticking straight up on one side.
That sky-high, gravity-defying shape was oddly familiar.
That's the infamous home-shopping accident meme, isn't it.
"Ah……"
A groan escaped me before I could stop it. My reflection was exactly that devastating.
"Oh no, I'm so sorry!"
The designer hastily pulled her hands away.
"No, wait, this—"
I started to say, then looked back at the mirror.
"Pffft."
She lost it again.
"Ah, I'm really sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me today—"
She was trying valiantly to hold in the laughter, but it was far too late.
"It's fine."
"You're not mad?"
"Why would I…… be mad?"
"I mean, your hair looks like—this—"
I shrugged.
"This much? I'm used to it."
"Used to what?"
"I have an older sister."
"Ahh~"
One word, and her face said she understood everything.
What is it about older sisters, anyway?
Compared to Yuseong-ah's doll-playing sessions, this was nothing.
"Your face is all baby, but the way you talk is like some old man."
"I hear that a lot."
Maybe she felt bad for laughing so hard, because from that point on she poured her whole heart into finishing my hair.
"Wow, you look like a completely different person?"
That was high praise coming from Han Sangyoon himself.
"You look great today too, Sangyoon-ssi."
"How many times do I have to tell you to drop the honorifics?"
Han Sangyoon shook his head, laughing.
Once the styling was done, the trainees gathered one by one.
Boys stripped of their names, called only by codes.
True to that concept, instead of names, large numbers were printed across their tactical vests.
CODE 1.
CODE 4.
The atmosphere was utterly different from the usual survival shows, where everyone wore matching uniforms and introduced themselves with name tags.
In fact, Boys Code didn't even reveal the trainees' real names until the Round 1 self-introduction stage.
They were called by their codes and nothing else.
The production team were truly concept fanatics of the worst order.
"Ugh, something about this is creepy."
Someone muttered under their breath.
They weren't wrong.
Matching outfits, similar styling—and with nothing but numbers in place of names, the whole group looked like products stamped off a factory line.
"Whoa……"
"This is insane. It's seriously massive—wait, no, I mean—it's enormous, isn't it?"
The moment we stepped onto the stage, gasps of awe broke out everywhere. I swept my gaze around with practiced ease.
I'd watched the signal song video so many times that even this first visit felt strangely familiar.
"Whoa—"
Iyul, who'd been staring around slack-jawed in wonder, quickly composed his expression.
Right. This is when you want to look cool.
At the center of the stage stood a towering cube structure, like glass boxes stacked layer upon layer.
All twenty cells were exactly the same shape—but different in size.
"Is that one the center?"
A single cell at the very center, the largest of them all—Code S.
From there, moving outward, the cells grew progressively smaller.
Code A, B—and then C.
The outermost cells were so cramped that even spreading both arms wide would have been a struggle.
It was a display shelf, categorizing human beings by grade.
And on top of that, with this structure—
When the full shot came in, the outer cells would naturally be pushed out of frame.
No one had to explain it. The stage itself was doing the talking.
Who the protagonist was, and who was mere backdrop.
But this isn't even the end of it.
Protests erupted from the Code C group.
"Isn't this going way too far?"
"How are we supposed to dance way back here……"
"And there's one more thing to announce—"
A staff member picked up the microphone.
Here it comes.
"Group C's lighting will remain off for the first verse."
"I'm sorry, what?"
The trainees' faces froze in an instant.
"No lights at all?"
"Wait, so we just won't be seen?"
"Additionally, the center will receive a solo close-up during the highlight section."
This time, groans exploded across the stage. One trainee simply crumpled to the floor where he stood.
Brutal.
No lighting meant forfeiting the entire first verse. They'd be swallowed by darkness, barely visible even in fancams.
"Then why did we even rehearse?!"
"This is beyond unfair, seriously……"
Back when the show aired, this very structure had drawn scathing criticism for being too cruel.
And yet, at the same time—
It worked brilliantly, didn't it.
In a market saturated with idol survival shows, it was the stage that left the most brutal first impression of all.
Just then, a light snort rang out.
"Lucky. Just coast through verse one, then go all-in on verse two."
Oh no.
In my past life, a trainee had actually chosen that exact strategy.
He got absolutely destroyed by the public before the broadcast even began.
"Alright, everyone to the stage, please!"
"Um, excuse me, may I use the restroom real quick……?"
"Now?"
"I'm too nervous to hold it…… I'll be right back!"
"Hurry up and go!"
"Yes, sir!"
The bathroom was just an excuse. I simply wanted to see, even for a moment, Iyul standing in Group A.
Before my regression, Iyul had been in Group B, and he'd slammed into the walls of that cramped cell again and again in the signal song video. Every single time, he'd cursed Go Jaeseong in Group A for no good reason.
Saying his limbs weren't even that long—that Group B should have been plenty for him.
But it was different now. A space roomy enough for him to stretch every limb to its fullest. And inside it, Iyul was moving freely.
"……It suits you."
I squeezed strength into eyes that wanted to sting.
And I made a vow.
Today's stage will be the smallest stage of your entire life.
"Trainees who haven't taken your positions yet, move now!"
"Yes, sorry!"
Urged on by the staff, I hurried to the stage as well.
"We'll run a camera rehearsal, then go straight into filming."
Click.
The lights blazed on overhead.
"……!"
A piercing white glare, and my vision flared white for an instant.
Zeeeeng—
A low ringing welled up inside my ears.
I braced a hand against the wall and took a short breath.
"Signal song filming, starting now. Take one!"
The moment the slate clapped shut, the beat dropped.
Thoom—
The vibration rising from the floor traveled up through my knees to the very tips of my fingers. I counted the beats on instinct.
Eight, nine, ten—
[Boom!]
My arm shot out.
Once again, the timing was exact. And just like that, the first take passed without a hitch.
The problem was that this wasn't the kind of shoot that ended just because one person had nailed it.
"Group A, B—re-sync your lighting cues, please."
"And Group C, every rushed movement at the top of verse two is getting caught on camera."
Again.
"Take two."
Again.
"Take three."
And again.
"Take seven."
By around the tenth take, my body had grown noticeably heavier.
"Come on, come on! Let's do this like it's the last one!"
"Yes, sir……"
The breath I pushed out was scalding hot.
My vision kept blurring and snapping back, but I steadied my breathing anyway. The urge to bark at them all—act like your lives depend on it—clawed its way up my throat.
Just let this one be the last, you bastards……
"Signal song, take eleven!"
The intro played again.
Thoom—
This time, I didn't just feel the vibration—I heard it reverberating inside my skull. My stomach churned.
Even so, I counted exactly the same.
Eight, nine, ten.
[Boom!]
The arm goes out.
Was I late?
No—I wasn't. My judgment was going hazy.
Ironically, the very heat of the lights meant to make me shine only turned my stomach queasy.
I kept moving through the choreography like I was grinding out a quest.
I'm seriously about to throw up……
I cut the thought short and made my body move.
The next move. And the one after that. String them together, one after another.
If the flow breaks, it's over.
My mind went white.
Nothing left now but pure sensation.
[Another one shattered before my eyes
Secret
Can't be stopped—
the revolution's already begun]
Before I knew it, we were into the second verse. As if everything up to now had been a warm-up round, the real trial was only just beginning.
Nausea surged with every movement. My strength was draining away.
Hold on.
Still, I refused to stop.
I thought of the moment I'd gripped my shattered shoulder and climbed out of the car. Even in that split second before death, I had moved—moved to check whether Kang Iyul was alive.
Something like this……
wasn't enough to stop me.
In the end, I opened my mouth. Just as I had once practiced singing for my very life.
It was a shout that would be buried under the backing track anyway. And that was precisely why I sang even louder.
[Make a new history
Beyond this door
A New world—
destined to shine]
My throat split raw. The sound came out rough and ragged.
Even so—
I kept going.
The highlight. Three hard chest pops.
Thud—
Thud—
Thud—
I couldn't even feel the pain anymore. Just as a stop line is nothing but a nuisance to a truck with broken brakes.
[Keep on moving
Never stop
Break it]
The end was drawing near.
Just a little more. A little more.
The finish line was within reach.
[The one and only code
that opens this door—
Boy's code]
I hit the final pose. Holding still was harder than moving.
Like catching a spinning top that had whirled too fast—the fine tremor that had wrapped around my entire body only grew. My hands began to shake uncontrollably.
Even so, I stared straight into the camera until the very end.
Ending fairy……
A hollow laugh caught in my throat.
"Cut!"
The director's voice rang out.
"Okay—that wraps the signal song group shoot. Great work, everyone—"
It was over.
Thud.
My legs gave out. I sank down right where I stood. My stomach heaved, and dry retching clawed its way up.
Something's wrong.
I was breathing—but it felt like no air was actually getting in.
My body slowly tipped to the side.
"Huh……?"
Thud—
The world flipped. Camera, lights, and then the ceiling.
My body wouldn't move. Like a robot with its power severed, I couldn't so much as twitch a finger.
Unable to do anything, I could only blink.
Again……
It was a familiar sensation. That same helplessness I'd felt on the road, in the moment before death.
Cold, congealed fear crawled up my throat.
No—no, this can't—
My vision wavered.
"Hold on!"
"Someone's collapsed!"
"Trainee Yuseongwoo, are you okay?"
"Call 911!"
Those fading voices were the last thing I heard before my vision cut to black.