Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: This Life is Space Star 12
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I need to jot this down.
For trainees, the cure-all is a broadcasting station camera...
"Junghyun hyung, think we'll look good on camera?"
"Definitely a hundred percent."
I smiled watching our kids whispering among themselves.
It was the moment I gained a huge realization while pondering how to boost their rock-bottom motivation.
The instant Street Boys and New Black became part of We Are the World.
From the Street Boys side, the pink-haired guy nodded and gave us a thumbs-up.
I figured that's what it meant.
'Cameras are great. The best. Thrilling.'
Kim Jung-hyun nodded back from our side and raised his thumb high.
Hey, don't do that.
I was dumbfounded.
Weren't these the same guys in a stare-down just moments ago?
But they were kinda cute, so I quietly chuckled. That's when the Street Boys leader and I accidentally locked eyes.
We had the exact same look.
Watching our little brothers grinning like idiots at the cameras and the broadcasting staff attention, feeling utterly exasperated.
'Your side too, huh.'
'Thanks for your hard work.'
I nodded back at him, and he nodded in return.
* * *
While New Black was practicing, Yoon Seok-hwan waited outside for someone.
A very important someone.
It didn't take long before he spotted the person amid the crowd.
A woman in her seventies wearing a mink coat.
Yoon Seok-hwan compared her face to the photo on his smartphone and approached with a smile.
"You're Woojoo's grandma, right?"
"Yeah, that's me, but..."
She eyed him up and down suspiciously.
"Who are you?"
"I'm Yoon Seok-hwan, Woojoo's manager."
"Oh, right, I heard about you."
Madam Kim Deok-soon flashed a gummy smile.
"That kid said some manager he knows begged him to do it again, so he had no choice but to get back into it?"
"Pardon?"
"He told me his acquaintance manager kept pleading, so he reluctantly started up again."
Yoon Seok-hwan pieced together the whole story.
Seon Wooju, you little punk.
Scared of getting an earful from grandma if he said he wanted to be an idol again, so he sold me out.
"Ah, why are you standing there like a bump on a log?"
"Huh?"
"Didn't you come to show me the way?"
"Well, yes."
"Then guide me! I can't see a damn thing in this neighborhood and I've been wandering everywhere. My legs are killing me."
"Yes, yes, ma'am. Of course I'll guide you."
Every time they climbed stairs, she winced from knee pain, so Yoon Seok-hwan went slowly, matching her pace.
As they headed to the auditorium, Seon Wooju's grandma cautiously asked.
"But if you're a section chief, are you pretty high up?"
"Not at all. Just a staffer handling the grunt work for the kids."
"No, I don't want my grandson getting in trouble because I threw a fit."
The woman who'd been snapping just moments ago suddenly turned meek at the mention of her grandson.
Yoon Seok-hwan smiled warmly.
"No need to worry. Really."
"Sorry about that. My legs were just hurting so bad earlier."
"It's fine. Haha."
"But is he really any good?"
"Pardon?"
"Back when he was joining that other company. They just handled the contract stuff; I never saw him sing or dance."
"You haven't seen him perform?"
"I tell him to show me, but he flat-out refuses. The brat's so stubborn, twists away shyly whenever I ask, saying 'Grandma, I can't.'"
"That's surprising. He doesn't strike me as the shy type."
By now, the auditorium was packed.
With employees from five agencies plus trainees' families, there were over a hundred people.
Yoon Seok-hwan guided Madam Kim Deok-soon to a seat and said with a grin.
"You can look forward to today's stage. Seriously—your grandson poured blood and sweat into preparing it for a whole month."
"Really?"
"You'll see."
Yoon Seok-hwan gave her a meaningful smile.
* * *
With trainees' families and company reps all gathered, the year-end evaluation finally kicked off.
The emcee was a pretty famous comedian.
"That's the guy from TV."
"Oh my, oh my—isn't he from that fishing show?"
While the reps stayed nonchalant, the families buzzed excitedly at the celebrity sighting.
Laughter erupted from the audience every time the emcee cracked a joke.
Not everyone was enjoying it, though.
"Hurry up and get on with it."
"Have some patience, oppa."
"Aren't you bored? I just wanna eat already."
Yoon Chan-hyeok, the ballad singer, yawned hugely.
Jang So-won shot him a pitiful look.
"Oppa, you're not even doing events lately—why are you so tired?"
"You try prepping a comeback and a concert at the same time."
"Oh, right. When's your comeback again?"
"Next month."
"Phew, dodged a bullet. Thought we'd overlap."
Jang So-won patted her chest in relief.
Clashing release dates with a ballad powerhouse meant unnecessary losses. Dodging that was a win.
Yoon Chan-hyeok asked flatly.
"When are you dropping yours?"
"Still negotiating with the company."
"Still?"
"Company's tight on funds these days. I'd like February next year, but it depends."
Yoon Chan-hyeok recalled her recent project.
"You mentioned a collab?"
"Yeah."
"Found the featured artist yet?"
"Nope."
Jang So-won sighed deeply.
"Got the base track done, but can't find the right vocalist. Need someone fresh, but who these days?"
"What about me?"
"You're not exactly fresh, oppa."
"Never mind, you brat."
Yoon Chan-hyeok grumbled.
"Too busy anyway."
Jang So-won snickered at what sounded like an excuse.
Fitting for drinking buddies who met up often—their banter was casual and ribbing.
They traded chit-chat like stand-up comics, looking like they were just there to hang out. But when the performances started, their vibe flipped 180 degrees.
Eyes sharpening in an instant.
The pros checked scoring sheets in silence.
Year-end evaluation.
Ten teams total, given the big participant count.
Unlike monthly evals, no immediate critiques or praise with families watching.
This was an event for the families.
To show: This is what your son or daughter is up to.
No way they'd say 'Here's my score' in front of everyone.
Instead, ranks 1 through 3 got announced based on judge scores.
Sharp critiques flew from the judges' table after each stage.
"What do you think?"
Some were harsh.
"I thought they were going for sexy at first? But not even a little. Expressions felt so forced."
"Kids seemed tense."
"We coddle trainees once or twice. Tension's fine—but don't show it onstage."
Others were positive.
"Overall solid. Voices stable, pitch on point, tone good."
"They could stand more confidence. No need to be that humble with those skills."
And broad agreements.
"Level's high across the board this year."
Nodding, the judges eyed the program.
"Two left? Lemon and DNS."
"DNS is those debut kids, right? Street Fighters."
"Street Boys, sir."
"Oh, right."
"Who first? Lemon, I guess. Coming out now."
"Oh, they're all handsome."
Five trainees in stage outfits stepped up.
Polite applause like at a school play, and the brown-haired hottie who looked like the leader grabbed the mic.
-One, two, three. Hello! We're New Black.
-Please introduce yourselves.
"I'm Seon Wooju, a trainee turning twenty-two soon."
They each chimed in one by one.
Tension was obvious.
They grabbed mics and formed positions.
"Look at that fresh energy."
"All my type. So cute."
Yoon Chan-hyeok and Jang So-won traded comments, then tilted heads when the backing track hit.
Trot music blared from the speakers.
Not just them—judges and reps all perked up at the sudden sound.
Curious reactions all around, but the most dramatic came from the audience.
Middle-aged parents who'd been openly yawning.
They only focused for their own kids; other people's performances? Meh.
Idol songs were alien culture to parent-gen ears.
Nonsensical English lyrics, flashy dances that dazzled without depth or fun.
With two teams left, parents kept checking watches.
Waiting out the boredom.
Then—trot backing track.
They snapped to attention like bears rousing from hibernation.
The familiar hit 'Come With Me' for the middle-aged crowd.
Slightly modernized arrangement, but core melody pure trot everyone knew.
Trainees shifted formations.
During the long intro, group clapping started in the seats.
Rhythmic applause.
A whole new reaction.
Stiff-faced members exchanged glances.
Then all eyes on one.
Seon Wooju flashed a 'See? Told you' smile.
* * *
"Do a trot opener?"
Four weeks ago, practice room.
Seo Ri-hyeok frowned.
Couldn't wrap his head around it.
Not dissing trot.
Young folks ignored it, but senior trot artists' skills were undeniable.
But that had zilch to do with trainee performances.
"You serious?"
"It's fresh and fun."
"There's fresh, and then there's this. Stage isn't a joke—outfits aside, performances have time and place."
"That's why trot."
Seon Wooju grinned.
"First, think runtime. We're ninth or tenth, right? By then, judges and audience are wiped. Our families'll cheer anything, but others?"
Logical.
"Safe plays aren't bad, like you said. But trainee song picks? Pop or thumping EDM. Sounds different to us, samey to them. Trot? We hook half the room off the bat."
Persuasive.
Heck, a legend snagged a music award sweep with that tactic once.
All nodding, Seon Wooju continued.
"And venue-wise—you did Taehwa High last time?"
"Nope, Chanyeong High."
"Googled Taehwa auditorium pics while you debated. See? Stage is narrower than it looks."
Blind spot no one considered.
As Seo Ri-hyeok marveled subtly, Seon Wooju pulled up photos.
"Trot lets tight choreography. Others didn't plan for it—bet they'll fumble."
Spot on.
Prior teams botched small stuff.
Cramped stage.
Flashy choreo, no room to breathe.
Even post-rehearsal tweaks couldn't fix a month's muscle memory on the fly.
Messed up expressions followed.
Distracted by moves, no stage presence.
If performers zone out, how can the crowd focus?
New Black was different.
Pre-planned tight formations meant full focus, showing in relaxed faces.
Audience unwound.
Unlike shaky prior acts, this one eased hearts.
"Check these kids?"
Jang So-won grinned like at a cocky junior.
"Oppa, whoever their choreo lead is, not your average."
"Huh?"
"Formations."
"Wha—oh."
Pro that he was, Yoon Chan-hyeok got it.
"No stumbles."
"Solid space use. Smart kid on the team? Choreo screams prior recon."
Jang So-won propped her chin, eyes sparkling.
"Could be fun."
Intro faded; vocals kicked in.
Maknae Wang Ji-ho led off.
Spotlight on the baby-faced middle-schooler gripping the mic.
Where are you, my dear
Here? There you are
Why do you stay away
I haven't done a thing
Adults smiled fondly at the tasty trot.
Singing solid, but expressions aced it.
Just-right flair for his age—pure charm offensive.
Crowd warmed.
Wang Ji-ho smiled back.
Thump.
Heartbeat thrummed.
Anyone who's performed knows it.
Stage: where singer and crowd swap emotions.
Sensing goodwill, his chest tingled, goosebumps rising.
Trot was genius.
'First verse: Ji-ho, you gotta take it.'
'Why?'
'Trot's for attention—obvious, send the eye-catcher first.'
Seon Wooju had said.
'Your strength? Expressions. You draw eyes with that charm. Lean in.'
Wrapping his part, Wang Ji-ho winked and finger-hearted the crowd.
Everyone but the buff dudes smiled.
Sidestepping, he eye-sparked with incoming Seon Wooju.
Grateful eyes met soft smile.
As Seon Wooju hit center, amid mom-smiles for Ji-ho, a new smile rippled through.