First Place Goes to Sunflower
“Idol Survival’s third stage, Legends Never Die! That brings all six teams’ performances to a close.”
The contestants filed up onto the stage and gathered in a row behind the MC, staring forward with taut, anxious faces.
“As we announced in advance, unlike the previous stages, the third stage is judged together with our special guest panel, so rankings will be decided right here on the spot. That means only the live audience vote will be reflected in the ranking evaluation. We ask for our viewers’ kind understanding.”
While they had prepared for the third stage, nights at the lodging had been filled, now and then, with the sound of crying. No matter how hard you worked, growth needed time. Effort alone could not solve everything in such a short span.
“Judge scores of twenty points and special-judge scores of thirty points will combine for fifty. Add the live evaluation score of fifty, and rankings will be decided out of a total of one hundred points.”
The restlessness and anxiety that came from fundamentally insufficient skill. The practice rooms stayed lit late into the night, yet still, not every stage had been perfect.
“We will begin with sixth place.”
Last place. In the brief pause the MC left in his calm voice, the contestants waiting for the announcement hardened into stone. Silence settled even among the audience watching them.
In a moment so still you could almost hear someone swallow, the ranking was revealed.
“Idol Survival third stage. Sixth place is… Team Narcissus.”
Sixth was the Narcissus team. Whether they had half expected it or not, their leader squeezed his eyes shut as he took the microphone, and the detailed scores were announced.
“Team Narcissus received fourteen points from the judges, twenty-seven from the live evaluation, and twenty-three from the special judges, for a total of sixty-seven points.”
A live evaluation score of twenty-seven. Considering fifty was a perfect score, they had barely cleared half. Not only the Narcissus members but the other teams’ faces darkened as well. The judging had been colder than expected.
“You worked hard, but I felt the ensemble was lacking. That was a shame.”
Im Hyo-jun spoke evenly. He was known for releasing notoriously difficult songs, so building a polished stage had probably been harder for them than for the other teams. On top of that, Narcissus had reportedly changed their song choice once, which would have left them even shorter on time.
Because they had performed right before us, I hadn’t been able to watch their stage, but the result suggested they had struggled exactly as I’d feared. Among the bowed heads of the Narcissus team, one crown of hair looked familiar. Nam Hye-seong—I had expected him to be crying, but the face he lifted was unexpectedly dry.
“There seem to be quite a few younger members among you. Take a little more time, and I hope we can see you again later looking even more improved. You did well.”
Because so many of them still looked especially young, the closing remarks of the evaluation came out gentle.
“Thank you… We’ll work even harder.”
With that, Narcissus leader Park Beom-gyu bowed at the waist, and the team shifted to the side of the stage.
“Great job!”
A short word of comfort followed them from the audience as they turned away, and then the next announcement moved on.
“Next is fifth place. Fifth place is… unfortunate.”
Fifth out of six teams. Not dead last, but nowhere near a high rank either. As contestants averted their eyes as if refusing to look, fifth place was called.
“Team Black Tulip.”
The Black Tulip members ranked in the lower tier squeezed their eyes shut. Lee Won-yeong, Black Tulip’s main vocal who had lost his center and made a mistake on stage, had reddened rims around his eyes.
“As the original artist, I thought it was a thoroughly wonderful stage. You worked hard, and you were cool.”
Park Ju-seong—bassist and lead vocalist of the band Blackbird, and the one who had written the song—offered comfort to the contestants crushed by their low ranking.
Fourteen points from the judges, twenty-eight from the live evaluation, and twenty-eight from the special judges, for a total of seventy. Original songwriter Park Ju-seong had given them a high score, but the live evaluation score still hadn’t been particularly strong.
“It was an honor to be able to perform a song by the seniors of Blackbird. Thank you.”
Tears dripping steadily, Lee Won-yeong bowed his head, and Black Tulip leader Nam Gyu-hyeok lifted the microphone to finish the greeting. A hand came from behind to pat his head in comfort, and Won-yeong’s head dropped even lower. From the audience, voices that sounded almost upset told him not to cry.
“Next is fourth place. Fourth place is…”
Watching that scene with a look of pity, the MC flipped his cue card for the sake of keeping the show moving and continued the announcement.
“Team Forget-Me-Not!”
Sixteen points from the judges, thirty-five from the live evaluation, and twenty-five from the special judges, for a total of seventy-six.
That was the score for the Forget-Me-Not team, who had remixed Teacher Heo Min’s song.
“I really enjoyed that high-energy stage. The dancing was cool, and the voices were so full of power that it felt completely fresh. In particular, the friend who handled the highlight—his tone stuck with me a lot. You all worked so hard.”
The moment the evaluation ended, Kim Yo-han, who had been praised by a senior legend of the music industry, bowed at a full ninety degrees.
“Thank you! We’ll work even harder!”
Ahn Do-hyeon, who had drawn Forget-Me-Not in the lottery just like Kim Yo-han and ended up on the same team, bit his lip. Fourth place—clearly not a result that satisfied him—and beside him, Ahn Jae-seo’s eyes welled with tears.
“This isn’t the end. We just have to do better. Stop crying.”
Ahn Do-hyeon patted his sobbing younger brother’s back and lifted the microphone to close out their remarks.
“Personally, being able to perform a song by Teacher Heo Min, whom my parents really love, was a true honor. We’ll work even harder. Thank you.”
At his earnest voice, comforting shouts burst from the audience.
“Do-hyeon! You were so cool!”
“Jae-seo, don’t cry!”
It hadn’t been a stage lacking in effort. They had done their absolute best to showcase their strength—dance. Only, in trying not to damage the original too much, the result had ended up a little neither-here-nor-there.
With fourth through sixth place announced, three teams remained. First through third.
“Next, third place is—yes! An unexpected team!”
Having checked the results handed over by the production staff first, the MC’s expression carried genuine surprise. Then the announcement continued.
“Third place is none other than! The team that remixed Vesta’s Racer—Team Violet!”
Contestants and audience alike rounded their eyes at the ranking. Faces that said there was no way this team should be coming out already.
I shook my head. Somewhere in it was a familiar sense of déjà vu.
Nineteen points from the judges, forty-five from the live evaluation, and twenty-four from the special judges, for a total of eighty-eight.
The special-judge score had been twenty-four. In general, twenty-four wasn’t a low score at all, but comparatively it was lower even than fourth and fifth place.
When I looked up at the special judges’ seats, the Vesta members were wearing bewildered expressions. Huey, seated not in the special panel but among the regular judges, was also tilting his head.
“Mm, I really loved how cool and powerful it felt. It was like meeting a brand-new Racer, so I watched with a really happy heart. It’s not an easy song, but I never expected to see a stage this polished. I enjoyed it.”
Soo-bin spoke first, and after her, Da-mi—main rapper and main dancer within the group—took the microphone.
“Just like Soo-bin unnie said, getting to see a new take on Racer was really great. Everyone did so well, and personally, contestant Lee Jae-jin… I’d love to share a stage with him sometime.”
At that blatant love call, the fans who had been drooping after the lower-than-expected ranking howled.
“Waaaaaah!”
“Da-mi wants to perform with him!”
“Jae-jin, you’re the best!”
Following that extreme praise about wanting to perform together, main vocal Yu-ha took the microphone next and singled someone out as well.
“Everyone did so well. Especially contestant Kwon Do-ha—his tone was just so good. But it wasn’t only the tone. Even while dancing that hard, his pitch didn’t shake at all. You could really tell how much he’d practiced, and that was wonderful to see.”
I didn’t know whether Yu-ha was aware that Kwon Do-ha was being talked about as someone who coasted on raw talent alone, but the comment was perfectly timed help.
“You all did so well. Thank you for your hard work.”
When Choi Hyeon-seo closed things out briefly at the end, the evaluation—despite the score—had been nothing but praise. From a little farther back I watched Cha Ji-heon, who had been on the same team but went unmentioned, wearing a bitter look.
At any rate, once the evaluation was finished, team leader Lee Jae-jin delivered their remarks.
“It was an honor for us as well to perform with our seniors’ song. Thank you for looking on us kindly, and we’ll work even harder.”
True to his Ambition trait, Lee Jae-jin’s vow to work even harder brought the third-place evaluation to a close. All that remained were the Rose team and the Sunflower team.
“All right, both remaining teams, please come forward!”
Leaving behind the sniffles of the lower-ranked teams, Sunflower and Rose both stepped to the front of the stage, and the MC continued.
“Yes! So now what’s left is purely first and second place! Team Sunflower and Team Rose! Only one of these two will take first!”
While the MC dragged out the moment, I stood at the edge of the stage and looked out at the audience. When our eyes met, I smiled at a fan vigorously waving a placard with my name on it. It looked homemade—an impressive amount of care.
“Idol Survival third round, Legends Never Die—the team that will claim the glory of first place is!”
I was still greeting the placards that bore my name when I spotted a strangely shaped camera. Was that one of those cannon cameras people talked about? I’d heard the lens alone cost millions of won.
“None other than!”
I was wondering whether it was even all right to film with something like that when a sharp pop went off and confetti fluttered down. So the stalling was finally over.
“Congratulations. First place is Team Sunflower!”
“Min-hyeok oppaaa!”
“Lee Han-hee! Lee Han-hee!”
“A-seong-aaaa!”
For a second the insane roar of cheers overwhelmed me and I stepped back without meaning to—then I heard a wet, sniffling sound beside me. When I turned my head, Song A-seong was holding back tears.
“A-seong, are you crying?”
The moment our eyes met, a tear fell as if it had only been waiting, and while I hesitated over what to do I ended up pulling him into a hug and patting him. Han Min-hyeok came close and wrapped both of us in his arms at once.
“Don’t cry! Don’t cry!”
“Euhheong, hyung-nim!”
Min Ho-su glued himself to Han Min-hyeok’s side, and then Yu Min-seong and Jo Min-jun piled on too, until somehow all six of us had clumped together like a ball. Kim Seong-min was hanging back a little, hesitating, so I stretched an arm out from the middle and pulled him in. At a time like this, you stick together.
While Kim Seong-min blinked in the awkward embrace, the MC called out the scores.
“Nineteen out of twenty from the judges! Forty-eight out of fifty from the live evaluation! And a perfect thirty out of thirty from the special judges, for a total of ninety-seven points! Incredible!”
A full ninety-seven points.
“Waaah! Ninety-seven! He said ninety-seven!”
“Heueong-eong.”
Buried deepest in the pile and crushed by the pressure, Song A-seong had stopped crying—only for Min Ho-su’s tears to burst out instead. I patted the shoulder of Min Ho-su, who couldn’t even speak through his sobs, and took the microphone. I was the team leader, after all.
“Second-place Team Rose recorded nineteen points from the judges, forty-six from the live evaluation, and twenty-eight from the special judges, for a total of ninety-three points.”
First place ninety-seven, second ninety-three, third eighty-eight. Considering the drop to seventy-six from fourth place on down, the gap in scores was wider than expected.
What stood out in our team’s score was the special-judge total. A perfect thirty out of thirty. Once the members had calmed down somewhat, Yuri smiled brightly and delivered her evaluation.
“I’m Your Hero was a truly precious and special song to me, so receiving a message this new through it moved me so much. I’m so glad I got to see this stage. I really feel like I was right to come out today.”
A voice that trembled just a little. It sounded like she truly meant that this stage had moved her.
Since I was the team leader, it was my turn now. I lifted the microphone after her and passed the credit to my teammates.
“I believe our team was able to receive such wonderful praise only because we had members who actively threw out ideas and worked day and night.”
I met each of their eyes in turn as I continued. This time, without a doubt, their contribution had been greater than mine. Especially Song A-seong’s.
“It was an honor to be able to create such a good stage with such a good song. Thank you.”
I bowed at the waist, then got swallowed again by the teammates who came rushing in and was shuffled toward the back. It was Rose’s turn now, so we needed to clear the space. Even as I moved with difficulty, somehow a smile kept rising to my face.
And in the audience, watching Lee Han-hee surrounded by his teammates, Seul-gi carefully eased down the corners of her mouth, which had been threatening to climb all the way to her cheekbones. She had to get home and write her audience review. That single resolution filled her mind completely.