The First Stage Under Their Eyes

For the umpteenth time, the music started over again.

Everyone had undeniably changed.

"Raise your right arm higher!"

"Ji Dongseok hyung, you're a beat late!"

"Okay—"

We listened to each other's breathing, matched our footsteps, waited for our timing.

Good.

I deliberately moved half a beat late.

The reaction was instant.

"Whoa, Yuseongwoo messed up again!"

"No, he did it on purpose this time!"

"Let's just cut him and go!"

Laughter burst through the practice room.

I laughed too and slipped back into position.

This should do it.

We were a completely different team from day one.

At some point, it was three in the morning. One by one, the lights in the other teams' practice rooms had gone out, but ours was the only one where the music still hadn't stopped.

Must be nice being young. Everyone's got insane stamina.

"One, two, three, four—"

Thud—

At some point, our feet hit the floor at exactly the same time.

"Huh?"

The sound didn't scatter. It didn't sound like five people. It sounded like one.

"Did that—"

"That landed, right? It landed, didn't it?"

Wide-eyed, we stared at each other.

"It landed."

The moment Song Wooju gave his confirmation, the cheering erupted, no one needing to go first.

"We NAILED it!!"

Ji Dongseok collapsed flat on the spot.

"Again—"

The joy lasted only a moment before Song Wooju fired the music back up.

"Let's make it even sharper this time!"

But nobody complained.

Because that felt electric.

We all wanted to feel that sensation one more time.

We lined up in formation again. It was past midnight, so I pulled the move I'd just nailed into the editing program.

"One! Two! Pop right here!"

At Song Wooju's call, everyone snapped their bodies. Watching ourselves in the mirror was almost moving. My joints finally connected when I did a wave!

"Watch your steps! Snap! Snap!"

Screech-scratch!

Had the sound of shoes sliding across the practice room floor always been this exhilarating?

A little more. Just a little more.

Sweat dripped from the tips of our chins. And still, everyone was smiling.

Then, at some point, it stopped being our movements that synced and became our breathing. Without counting beats, we moved as one.

And just like that, our stage was coming together.

One day before the Round 2 stage. The wake-up song blared as it always did.

But today, a surprise announcement followed.

"An external schedule?"

"Out of nowhere? What's that about?"

Once every trainee had gathered, Director Tiger appeared.

"At five o'clock today, there will be a Signal Song stage in the plaza in front of the C-Net Broadcasting Station."

The words were barely out of his mouth before the trainees began to murmur.

"Sorry, C-Net?"

"Today?"

"A Signal Song stage, like, an actual one……"

It was such a shocking announcement that each person seemed stunned by a different part of it.

"With no warning?"

"Don't we have the competition tomorrow?"

But I was surprised for a completely different reason.

That's not when this happened, though?

The exact same event had taken place before my regression. Except back then, it came after the survival show aired, once the reaction had already blown up.

The broadcast hasn't even aired yet—

"So the response really did blow up."

I murmured it half to myself.

"What was that?"

Ji Dongseok asked, but—

"Nothing, just thought something was interesting."

I couldn't exactly explain.

No wonder. I'd wondered why my SP was climbing at an unnatural rate—it seemed the reaction had caught fire even from the Signal Song release alone, faster than before my regression.

Thanks to that, even this absurd schedule was starting to make sense.

Today was Thursday, and five p.m. meant exactly one hour before C-Net's weekly music show, Music Count, went live.

The hour when every fan is packed in one place.

The audience members coming to watch the music show, and the fans who couldn't get in but showed up anyway just to catch a glimpse of idols arriving and leaving. It was the busiest moment a broadcast station ever saw.

They're insane.

"You'll get your styling done, then head straight to C-Net."

In other words, C-Net was handing us that golden time slot.

"Whoa, so we're dancing in front of actual people?"

"Do you think anyone will even come……?"

"Honestly there might be more of us than audience members."

The trainees' faces hardened rapidly.

They're adorable, really.

They were still trainees through and through. C-Net wasn't stupid—if they were scrambling to set up a schedule this sudden, it meant interest in the survival show was already substantial.

Losing practice time stung, but this was a massive opportunity.

We ran through our blocking briefly in a studio inside C-Net, then finally moved out to the plaza. Since we'd come in through the underground parking garage, it was the first time I'd seen the place.

And the moment we stepped out of the entrance—

"Whoa—"

A gasp escaped me before I could stop it.

The plaza was already packed with a sea of people.

Telephoto cameras, sketchbooks, phones—everyone held something in their hands, every one of them looking at us.

This is…… no joke.

Without thinking, I clenched and unclenched my fists.

I'd faced this scenery hundreds of times before—but always from the other side. Looking out at fans from here was another first.

"Alright! Everyone, find your positions!"

The staff's voice rang out.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠trainees hurried into place. Following the Signal Song formation, I found my own spot and stood.

Cameras dead ahead. And people.

Wherever I looked, my eyes met someone's.

"Iyul! I love you!"

"Juhan, let's debut!"

"Sangyoon, fighting!"

The names of the trainees already known to the public rang out from every direction. The ones called naturally waved and struck poses.

My name had been hidden even from the profiles, so of course no one knew it.

But right at that moment—

"Braces!"

Someone's shout struck my ear with perfect clarity.

Dazed, I turned toward the voice. A woman holding an enormous camera.

She pointed at me, hesitantly.

"Me?"

"Yes!"

Why me?

Then—

Click! A flash went off. My mind went white for a second, and before I knew what I was doing, I threw up my—

……Thumb.

Click.

Click.

I hastily lowered my hand, but the woman had already burst out laughing.

Ji Dongseok beside me was snickering too.

"What even was that—"

Only then did my surroundings register.

Peace signs, finger hearts, flower-petal hands…… everyone around me was striking poses that anyone could recognize as idol poses.

And in the middle of it all, me alone, flashing a thumbs-up like a business executive greeting a client.

I've lost my mind.

My face burned. And yet, strangely, I didn't feel bad.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

All my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠life, I'd been behind the camera, shooting Kang Yiyul. Now someone was pressing the shutter for me.

It's surreal.

Maybe even more surreal than having died and come back to life.

I deliberated for a moment, then this time pointed a fingertip at my braces.

"Kyaaa!"

The woman with the camera stomped her feet. The shutters exploded like crazy.

Click— click—

Strangely, that sound beat against my heart.

"Filming begins now!"

The intro poured out on cue, and the plaza erupted at the same time.

"WAAAAAH!!"

The roar was far bigger than I'd expected, and I flinched for an instant—but the timing etched into my body held true.

[Boom!]

The moves we'd rehearsed countless times. The beats we'd matched over and over.

But everything was different now.

There were cameras. There were people. And there were eyes looking at me.

This was bad.

This is fun.

The corners of my mouth lifted on their own.

"Braces guy, over here!!"

I turned my head and met their eyes.

The telephoto cameras swung toward me again.

A thrill I had never once felt in my entire life wrapped around my whole body.

Whoa—

Why people craved the stage so desperately. Why they'd gamble their whole lives on becoming idols.

Why Kang Yiyul had shone so brightly.

For the first time, I understood.

The music raced toward its climax.

Our breathing grew rougher, our hearts beat faster than the rhythm.

And yet my body felt impossibly light.

So being alive can feel this vivid.

The final ending pose.

"WAAAAAAAH!"

A cheer burst out so loud it deafened me.

I bowed my head and gulped down air. My breath climbed all the way to my throat.

And still—

"……Ha."

The corners of my mouth kept rising. No matter ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠how I tried to hold it in, the laughter leaked out.

Everyone was the same.

Blank expressions, and eyes lit up to the brim.

Kids who had been trainees ten minutes ago now wore the faces of people who had tasted a stage for the very first time.

I looked around the plaza once more.

The status window flashing nonstop, the shutters that never stopped, the flashes filling my entire field of vision.

It was a moment I would never forget as long as I lived.

Even after the absurd, electrifying flashmob ended, nobody could quite return to reality.

The mood stayed buoyant even after we got back to the practice room.

"There were so many people earlier, right? I wasn't imagining it?"

"Someone took a picture of me too."

"Wow, I still can't believe it."

It was already late at night, but not a single person looked tired. Everyone was still dazed from their first taste of a cheering crowd.

Which made it, frankly, the perfect state for practice.

"Alright."

I turned the music on.

"Let's practice."

"Hyung, your arm angle keeps dropping there."

"Really? Thanks. How's this?"

By now, if anyone had something to say, they said it straight—no more beating around the bush. Compared to day one, the progress was staggering.

[SP 600]

A little while later.

[SP 620]

Even as I kept burning the Hourglass and the Editor, the number climbed right back up.

The online reaction must still be growing.

"Can you check this part for me?"

"On 'one, two—three,' you need to step there."

Thankfully, the more we repeated the choreography, the more watchable the footage we were recording became.

"One, two—three!"

Smack—!

With a crisp crack, the sole of a shoe pressed into the practice room floor.

"That's EXACTLY it!"

Day one's gloom was unthinkable now—our faces were overflowing with energy.

In high spirits, I opened the editing program. This program now held only the very best moves I was capable of.

I cut the footage together with precision again.

It was a lot like a music production program—splicing together the best takes, tuning them so they flowed naturally.

At last, the final version was complete.

"One last run-through before we call it a night?"

"Uuuurgh……"

Everyone rose like zombies.

The music started, and I hit play on the footage.

The closer we came to the move Song Wooju had flagged every single time, the sharper his eyes grew.

I hit the step on three, making a show of it.

"One, two—THREE!!"

Song Wooju's eyes went wide. He must have been so stunned he missed his own beat.

"Focus, people—"

"Yes, sir."

Now I was the one calling people out. The role reversal was secretly thrilling.

"The beat matters here! Match your angles!"

It was choreography that repeated the same movement like a row of falling dominoes—a part that only looked cleaner because of the split-second delays. If anyone was even a hair early or late, the whole thing looked cheap. Brutally unforgiving choreography.

"Snap, snap, snap, snap!"

"WAAAAH!!"

"We actually nailed it, right? Right?"

Do you know how important the experience of success is?

"Hey, again! Run it again!"

As if they couldn't bear to lose the feeling of the success they'd just had, everyone scrambled back into position, still panting.

And even in the middle of that, they didn't neglect the live vocals.

"Hey, hey—don't miss your vocal cue!"

The ending move, everyone stacking their hands and spreading them toward the sky.

"One! Two! Three!"

At the perfectly landed beat, the guys screamed.

"WOOOOAAAH!!!"

It was less like a boy band and more like apes discovering fire for the first time.

"Did you see that? Hyung, I said did you see that!"

"If we just do tomorrow what we did today, I think we're good."

"My head is seriously about to explode right now!"

Stomping my feet at the adrenaline buzzing through my whole body, I thought—we've finally touched the 'i' in idol.

That night, sleep didn't come easily. I prayed, desperately, that the others would perform tomorrow exactly the way they had today.

Because there's no chance of me messing up.