The Tyrant of the Practice Room

It had been nearly two months since we'd last faced each other, and yet there was no tender reunion for us siblings.

"So let me get this straight."

Yu Seong-ah crossed her arms and looked down at me.

"You're asking me to teach you how to dance?"

"...Yeah."

"..."

The silence didn't last long.

"PUHAHAHAHAHA!!"

Yu Seong-ah rolled clean off the sofa.

"Wow, insane! I thought I'd seen it all. What, has it really gotten that bad?"

"...Yeah."

"I knew it! Like your body could ever pull that off!"

...This woman showed her own flesh and blood no mercy, even after months apart.

"Well... I can memorize the moves somehow, it's just—"

"But?"

"I have no fundamentals."

"Oh~"

Yu Seong-ah's eyes lit up. That was a very dangerous signal.

"Ha, I'm a really busy person, you know."

As if I didn't know. As much as I hated to admit it, Yu Seong-ah really was the most talked-about choreographer in the country right now.

"You get to do something cute for me for the first time in ages."

"Ah, noona—"

Right. Yu Seong-ah had never been the type to refuse a request.

"Hey, I'm your older sister."

But there was no such thing as a free lunch. Not with her.

"I'm practically an adult, though."

"Oh~ and what do you want me to do about that?"

And the price would be steep.

'If this woman isn't a tyrant, what is she?'

"Suit yourself. There's no such thing as free in this world."

"No, ma'am. I'll do it."

In front of her, human dignity crumbled more easily than you'd think.

"Should've said that from the start. Now do the thing."

"Ah, come on, that one's embarrassing—"

"Tsk, that's an ugly look on your face."

I swapped my expression out in a flash.

"...Should I sing along too?"

"Look at you, being a trainee's actually given you some sense, huh? Obviously."

And so, a man with the mind of a twenty-nine-year-old found himself hopping around in the middle of a dance studio like an idiot.

The song Yu Seong-ah demanded was none other than Judy's "NO"—the so-called national aegyo anthem.

Even though I hadn't danced in almost ten years before my regression, the moment the song started, my body moved on pure instinct.

'So this is how terrifying brainwashing is.'

"Not bad! Hey, your dancing's actually improved a bit?"

Yu Seong-ah clapped away, thoroughly enjoying herself.

"Right, if my precious little brother is begging this hard, his big sister has to help him out."

"Thank you!"

"Excuse me...?"

"Th-thank you very much."

Only then did she smile in satisfaction.

"Okay. Two weeks, was it? For the next two weeks, we're going to demolish your fundamentals."

And so I crawled into Yu Seong-ah's tiger den of my own free will.

Two hours later.

"AGAIN!!"

Four hours later.

"What is wrong with your body?"

Would you believe me if I said I'd been stuck on a single wave move for four straight hours?

On the first day, I tried to avoid using the Hourglass and its editing function as much as possible. My body had to internalize this for real, or it would be useless to me down the line.

But that was my arrogance talking.

"Are you a human or a squid?"

Yu Seong-ah grabbed my arm, bent it, and gave it a vigorous shake.

"Even so, calling me a squid is going a bit far, isn't it?"

"Hey, you're my brother, but honestly, I'm starting to wonder if you faked your way into the debut group."

'Is this woman... secretly running a hate account about me?'

"Let's call it a day."

"Already? Aww, and I was having fun—"

I barely stopped the corner of my mouth from twitching.

"We'll do more waves tomorrow. Next up: step fundamentals."

"...?"

"Don't tell me you planned to stop practicing here, with skills like that?"

The hell of fundamentals began anew. My legs were starting to wobble.

'Why isn't Yu Seong-ah tired?'

Ten hours in, maybe? Sweat pouring down like rain was no longer the problem. I felt like I'd been reduced to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a machine that did nothing but dance, stripped of both reason and feeling.

I'd reached the level where my feet moved on their own even at rest, as if I were wearing the red shoes of the old fairy tale.

'Only one day has passed, and I have to do this for two weeks?'

The world spun before my eyes. But Yu Seong-ah's lion's roar kept ringing in my ears.

"UP!!"

I didn't want to generate items mid-practice. But God, how I wished I could build a clock that traveled to the future and just jump two weeks ahead.

Then, right before my eyes—splayed on the floor, gasping for air—a status window blinked to life.

'Gee, thanks so much for the tip!'

I kicked at the empty air. The moment Yu Seong-ah's reflection in the mirror turned toward me, I muttered an excuse.

"...My leg's going numb."

"Done resting? Up you get."

Just as they say the basics are the hardest part of everything, fundamentals were nothing to sneeze at. Honestly, being told to do the signal song choreography a hundred times would have been easier.

It was the moment I had to face, painfully, just how much of my dancing had been a shallow skin-deep imitation all along.

Whenever it got to that point, I'd think back to Song In-hyuk's judge comments.

An idol has to excel at performance. And the most visual form of performance is, inevitably, dance.

I'd barely held on to 6th place. If my dancing stayed frozen in place through the next round, I'd drop right off the board.

"Ugh..."

Clutching my half-dead legs, I dragged myself back to my feet.

And a week later, I finally cried.

"HUUUUEEEEHH..."

...Really, truly.

"Huh?"

Yu Seong-ah, mid-count, was stunned.

"Are you crying?"

"No."

"You are."

"I am NOT!"

"WAHAHAHAHAHA!!"

And then she laughed like a lunatic.

"Unbelievable. I haven't seen you cry in forever!"

"..."

'Is this woman an actual psychopath?'

Once the tears started, they didn't stop easily. It had been like this since I was a kid. That's why I used to dance on stage bawling my eyes out, too.

"Can I film this?"

"You die first."

"This is for your sister, you know—"

After laughing for a good while, Yu Seong-ah tossed a towel at me.

"Hey."

"What."

"Done crying?"

"..."

"If you're going to quit, quit now."

For the first time, all the playfulness had drained from her voice.

"You think I can't feed one kid on my own?"

"..."

"What on earth possessed you to attempt something this reckless..."

My throat caught, all at once.

"I want to do well too...!"

"So why won't my body do what my head tells it to?!"

The words burst out of me—raw, unfiltered.

"You don't know anything, noona!"

And it came out far more pathetic than I'd intended.

The instant the words left my mouth, I thought, 'I've lost my mind.'

Yu Seong-ah was approaching. This meant, at minimum, an ass-kicking.

"Wait, no, noona—"

I could practically see a black aura rising behind her.

"I'm sorry, noona, I apologize. I briefly lost my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sanity—"

Grab—

A hand landed on top of my head.

"Huh?"

Don't tell me... a head pat? Comfort?

Grip.

"AAAACK!!"

It felt like my entire scalp was being torn out by the roots.

"What you need right now isn't dance practice. It's a lesson in attitude."

"Ow, that hurts!"

"You can't even endure this, and you want to be an idol?"

"AAAARGH!!"

That day, I learned something.

"If you're going to toss away your studies and everything you were good at to become an idol, then you'd better do it properly!"

Yu Seong-ah was no tsundere.

"What was that? 'You don't know anything'? Have you lost your mind?!"

She was simply a tyrant.

"You think you can square up to me after a measly few weeks of practice?"

And she was.

"Is dancing a joke to you? Huh? Funny, is it?"

A tyrant possessed by dance.

The criminal would receive the—no, the criminal would receive the attitude-correction sentence.

Yu Seong-ah's attitude correction dragged on long after that, wringing every last tear and drop of snot out of me. Even for someone with the mind of a twenty-nine-year-old in the body of a nineteen-year-old, it was brutal.

Whenever I so much as wavered during practice, her knuckle-joint would come jabbing into my body without fail.

'Where did she even get one of those?'

"Alright, next we review Episode 2 and continue."

I couldn't believe it. Had I really already been in this training retreat for a week?

Time clearly flowed more than twice as fast inside this practice room.

"Hey, so who passed out?"

"Check the broadcast and find out."

A charged silence. Something was wrong—this was no time to be so casual...

Sure enough, Yu Seong-ah was looking down at me, eyes unsmiling, only the corners of her mouth curled up.

"Taking some liberties with me, are we?"

A chill ran down my spine.

"...No, ma'am. I'm afraid that information falls under a confidentiality clause, so I cannot share it. It was by no means intended as defiance toward you, Your Eminence."

"Good."

I'd spent so long living without her that my brain had briefly short-circuited. From here on out, I needed to keep my guard up at all times.

Boys Code, determined to carry the buzz of Episode 1 all the way into Episode 2, dropped fresh teasers on its official account every single day.

Behind-the-scenes photos and videos of the trainees were released, drawing in fans by the handful.

Sujin, a newcomer won over by Episode 1, had finally ended her brief denial phase and created a brand-new SNS account.

A trainee whose name and age were still unknown. The only solid piece of information was that he was at least nineteen, given that Kang Yiyul called him hyung.

"No info at all just makes him more intriguing, honestly."

At last, Episode 2 began.

The trainees' reactions as they came face to face with the massive set were broadcast in raw, unfiltered detail.

"Yeah, that'd piss anyone off."

But Sujin's eyes searched the screen for one trainee and one trainee only.

"Oh, there he is."

"That wound makeup was his own idea too?"

By the time the endless retakes had taught Sujin the song by heart, the scene in question aired.

"...What??"

The message board streaming Episode 2 live filled up with talk of Code 4 as well.

"What the... why is he acting all tough...?"

"Oh my god..."

Sujin replayed Yuseongwoo from the video in her mind.

He'd wobbled mid-choreography not because his skills were lacking.

He'd sung along even as his face contorted—not out of habit, but out of pure, desperate longing.

Once she understood all of it, every single frame of the footage looked different.

Nobody had to feel the same way about everything. But distorting it like this? Unforgivable.

"Are they out of their minds? How is that acting?"

Sujin pressed a hand to her forehead, recognizing a familiar sensation.

"Ah. I'm done for."

Her beloved bias under attack from every corner. And her own heart, burning with the mission to protect him.

This wasn't just becoming a fan.

Wasn't there a saying? A bias is raised with a parent's heart, and a second bias with a doctor's.

As he came under fire from every direction—rivalry, shade, and bad-faith hate—it was then that he truly drew close to Sujin, and became her son.