I Will Stand in the Heavens
I just finished some interview and walked out. My legs are shaking like crazy.
I must have been incredibly nervous because I just blurted out whatever came to my head.
Since it's a broadcast, I figured it would be good to stir up some drama, so I gave an answer that was completely unlike me. I wonder if it'll be okay.
"Whew... Did I push it too far?"
"Contestant number sixteen, Han Se-ah!"
"Y-Yes!"
"Please attach your number tag to your stomach so it isn't covered."
The tag displayed my name, number, and affiliation.
As I attached the tag as the staff member instructed, memories of my days as a military recruit came rushing back.
"Recruit number 165! If you fall behind, you're dragging everyone else down with you! Hurry up!"
Ah, the drill sergeant's touch, treating people like mere objects. The marches where I'd rather beat myself unconscious than take another step.
And the mountain march—not satisfied with merely destroying my kneecaps, it ultimately gifted me a pair of knees that could predict the weather better than the Meteorological Administration's supercomputer.
I'm so glad I was born a girl in this life.
While I was lost in the past, the staff finished clipping the microphone to my body.
When I entered the waiting room, a massive crowd of people had already gathered.
For such a large number, it was surprisingly quiet. Was everyone nervous with the shoot about to start?
Some girls were stretching, some had earphones in with their eyes closed, and others were whispering in small groups.
Being around too many people drains my energy, so I sat down in a particularly empty corner.
Then, I scanned my surroundings.
Looking at the contestants' number tags, they had naturally grouped up by their agencies. Incheon IC was in the far corner, Ulsan IC was in the center, and Suwon IC was near the entrance.
Amidst them all, I was entirely alone.
"This really takes me back to elementary school."
For someone whose mental age already exceeded thirty, making friends in elementary school was an impossible task.
The lessons were things I already knew, so I usually just slept through class. And the things my classmates talked about were just baby babble, so I had zero interest.
"Hehehe! Fart blast!!!"
"Waaah! Give me back my pencil case!!"
"Yee-haw!!!"
The elementary school boys were especially torturous.
But did I try to get close to the girls instead? Not really. It was hard to keep up with their sensibilities, and more than anything, they seemed terrified of me.
I was never bullied in my past life, though.
In the end, the only thing worth doing at school was soccer.
My body in this life was strangely robust and strong. Not only did it move exactly how I wanted, but it was also fast and durable.
Getting perfect scores in PE and outperforming the boys by a landslide was as natural as breathing.
Armed with the soccer knowledge from my past life, I dominated the field. Thus, a legend was born: the "Messiah of Gijang Elementary." That's me.
"Hey, Ye-seul. Have you ever talked to Se-ah?"
"No, never. She's kind of scary..."
She's insanely good at sports, sleeps through every class, has no friends, yet somehow always aces her exams.
Before I knew it, an unapproachable, bizarre aura had formed around me.
Eventually, eating lunch alone became the norm.
Just like how I was currently isolated here among trainees from all sorts of agencies.
Whatever.
Professional soccer players move to entirely unfamiliar regions all by themselves just to play.
Compared to that, this is nothing.
I walked over to a decent bench in the corner and leaned back.
According to what the staff member said earlier, the next step was the Level Test.
That was why all the trainees had gathered in this massive waiting room.
It was a sort of initial evaluation. The contestants would perform one by one in front of the judges and receive a grade from A to F.
When I checked the contract, I saw that the dormitory room assignments and practice environments differed based on these grades.
Of course, I was confident in my vocals.
But dancing...
Well, I can just learn it here. I still have the basics down.
There's nothing the public loves more than an underdog's growth story.
Still, the nerves were real.
But I had anticipated this and brought that.
I pulled the Leona Messiah photocard out of my wallet and held it gently with both hands.
Then, I closed my eyes.
A scene unfolded in my mind.
Green grass. White box lines. A blue uniform.
"...Messiah shoots."
Slowly, the tension began to melt away.
"...Argentina..."
"Excuse me."
Whoa, startled me!
Attacking when a person is at their most vulnerable... Is this a spy sent by a major club, jealous of my vocal skills and trying to keep me in check?
I opened my eyes.
Someone was sitting next to me.
She had shoulder-length hair, round eyes, and a cute face. She looked like she was holding back a laugh.
"I heard everything."
"...You heard everything?"
Ah.
Add another 3,000 blanket-kicks to my future.
"Are you doing a soccer broadcast or something?"
"I'm pretty sure I heard you say 'shoot'?"
Those round eyes curved into crescents.
"You must have misheard..."
Just then, something slipped off my lap with a soft thud.
I reached out to grab it, but she was already picking it up.
It was my Leona Messiah photocard.
An official IC Barcelona merchandise item. The official photocard from the 14/15 season. It was the very card I always kept tucked away in my wallet.
"Are you a Messiah fan by any chance?"
"..."
My ears burned.
She laughed again, louder this time.
Normally, when dealing with someone who approaches you out of the blue like this, you need to maintain a healthy level of suspicion.
They must have approached you because they want something.
"I like Messiah too. Her stage last season was absolutely insane."
What a wholesome girl.
There are no bad people among Messiah fans.
I stared at her for a moment.
"...Which stage?"
"The Champions League final stage. You know, the ending part where Messiah completely dominates the stage by herself."
Ah, I can't hold back anymore.
I knew that stage. In fact, what Leona Messiah fan wouldn't know it?
"You saw that stage?! Seriously, that Champions League final stage is something we need to pass down as a family heirloom for generations! She completely seized the atmosphere with her low tones at the start, and then in the bridge, she pushed through with high-note belting—how can a live performance be that clean? Even watching it through a screen took my breath away! Will an idol like her ever exist again?!"
Silence.
Ah.
I really need to fix this habit of going into overdrive whenever something I love comes up. Thanks to this, my blankets suffer every single night.
"Ah... I'm sorry..."
This was the other reason I hadn't had any friends since elementary school. It was my chronic condition of going full-throttle the moment Messiah or soccer was mentioned.
"Ahahaha!"
"..."
She clutched her stomach and laughed hysterically for a good while before finally calming down.
"Ahahaha. I've never met anyone this funny."
She extended her hand to me.
"I'm Oh Hae-rin. I'll be sixteen soon. Suwon IC Youth."
I stared at her hand for a moment before shaking it.
"Um... I'm seventeen..."
"Then you can just speak comfortably to me!"
"Huh..? Oh... I'm Han Se-ah. Unaffiliated. I came from Gimpo. I'll be seventeen next year."
"Unaffiliated? Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"Wait... You're the one from that YouTube festival video, right?"
"...You saw that?"
"Of course I did! Who doesn't know about that video these days?"
Oh Hae-rin grinned.
"I look forward to working with you, Sunbae."
"Sunbae?"
"With that many views on your video, you've basically already debuted, haven't you? That makes you my Sunbae."
Sunbae... It had a nice ring to it.
So, I didn't bother correcting her.
Entry into the filming location proceeded in numerical order.
Was it because I had exposed my true self, embarrassing as it was?
Or was it because we were fellow Gutos who shared a love for Leona Messiah?
In a remarkably short span of time, Oh Hae-rin and I became fast friends.
Looking at those harmless, round eyes that completely disarmed people, any walls I tried to build quickly crumbled to pieces.
Even though we had only exchanged a few words, there was a comfortable familiarity, as if I were meeting an old friend.
She was like a human capybara.
Oh Hae-rin quietly asked from beside me,
"Are you nervous?"
"No way. As someone destined for IC Barcelona, I can't afford to tremble here..."
Shiver, shiver, shiver, shiver.
I talked a big game, but my palms were getting slick with sweat.
"Pfft. What is that? I'm super nervous, though."
She was an honest kid.
"Are you confident in dancing?"
Oh Hae-rin hesitated for a moment.
"...Not really. I took a half-year break due to an injury."
"What about vocals?"
"I'm pretty confident in that. What about you, Sunbae?"
"Vocals are a piece of cake. Who do you think I am? I'm the star of five million views, the Orpheus of Gurae-dong!"
Ah, right. I need to watch my pacing.
"And dancing?"
I held my tongue for a moment.
"...You'll see later."
As if sensing something, Oh Hae-rin didn't pry any further.
"Contestant number sixteen, please enter!"
My number was called.
I carefully tucked the photocard back into my pocket and stood up.
*Tremble, tremble, tremble, tremble.*
The hallway leading to the stage felt incredibly short. I felt like a cow being led to the slaughterhouse.
I wished the hallway were just a little longer. Please.
This body has never been on TV before!
I had stood on stages in my past life, but my career had gone down the drain due to vocal nodules before I could even set foot in a massive broadcast studio like this.
Still, for the sake of my dream, I have to do what needs to be done.
*Inhale, exhale.*
Taking deep breaths, I walked forward, and the stage came into view.
Its scale was incomparable to the waiting room from earlier. Rising before me was a massive pyramid structure lined with seats. The fantasy-game-like decorations were a bonus.
The extravagance of the decorations intensified the higher up the pyramid went, with the seats from first to sixth place looking like actual royal thrones.
Those seats were currently empty. It seemed everyone found them too intimidating to sit in.
The fifteen contestants who had already entered were clustered around the middle tier of the pyramid—a spot that was easy for the cameras to catch without being overly burdensome.
There is a saying: "He who wears the crown must bear its weight."
It means that power and honor come with responsibility and pain.
For someone like me, who lacks the backing of a major club, there was only one way to achieve remarkable results on this show.
To embrace the risk.
From this moment on, I will stand in the heavens.
With head held high, I marched to the very top of the pyramid and sat down on the first-place throne.