Special Stage Tickets
"Did you watch episode 12 yesterday?"
"No."
"What about Sang-jin?"
"Ah, I did."
We had finished getting ready to head out and were on our way downstairs for breakfast. Han Min-hyeok, walking ahead of us down the stairs, was the one who brought it up.
Normally the episodes ran stage–ranking announcement–midpoint check–stage, but I had heard that episode 12 had been slotted as an unusual special. Probably just to buy themselves time to sort and edit everything before we hit the final stretch.
"From the trailer it looked like the Vesta sunbaenims were going to appear."
"Right~ Watching only the trailer, I thought the whole thing was going to be a Vesta special. But when they actually opened it up, it was a full hard-drive dump."
He shook his head, muttering that he had no idea there were so many unreleased clips that never made it to air.
It made sense. Once the third-round stages wrapped in episode 13, episode 14 would be the FINAL stages—and the end of the show. Live broadcast, no less. A recap was due around now.
A hard-drive dump. From Min-hyeok's reaction it had gone about as expected, but dragging Vesta into it? Did that mean Vesta had just been used?
"How much screen time did the Vesta sunbaenims actually get?"
"Hmm~ So basically they rented a studio and it felt like they were monitoring the footage. You know the kind of thing—clips play and the panelists comment on them."
The pattern you saw all the time in observational variety shows, then. The only real difference was that the panel here was absurdly luxurious. The show must have hit the jackpot; they were pouring money into it.
"Anyway. They said we were getting a break for one episode, and then the very next day it's a live broadcast…"
He whined that they were wringing the contestants dry when we still had to practice, but his face stayed completely unbothered. Like he had already given up expecting anything better.
"What time does the live start today? Three o'clock, was it?"
"Yeah, three."
I nodded at Han Sang-jin's addition that the pre-filming began at one.
"Then we can eat breakfast like this, stop by the infirmary for a disinfectant change, and still squeeze in a little practice before we go."
I answered casually and snuck a glance at them. Maybe because I had gone to bed so early yesterday, my whole body felt restless and prickly.
Yesterday. After dinner the group practice had started.
Because of the eyes around us I never even got to dance once; I just watched until they shooed me upstairs early and told me to sleep. I had not had a rest like that in months, so lying around actually felt more uncomfortable than anything.
"We'll listen to what the doctor says first."
Sharing both a room and a team, Han Sang-jin had somehow turned into my de-facto guardian. He shook his head with a face that said not a chance, but I was confident. I packed Min-hyeok off early to the Beta team practice room with the promise that he could come join us after a solid breakfast, and the two of us headed for the infirmary.
"Maybe it's because you're young. Your skin's recovery rate is really impressive."
At the doctor's admiring words I heard a sigh of relief behind me.
Keeping the recovery-boost title equipped all this time had paid off. Normally it took ten days to two weeks just to get the stitches out, but at this rate it might not even take a full week. The Undying title was doing its job beautifully.
A week. Three days since the sutures, so about four days left?
"Four days is still too long…"
If the torn tissue under the skin closed up, wasn't that basically healed? The rest would sort itself out. I must have said it out loud without meaning to, because Sang-jin walking beside me gave a strangely weak-sounding permission.
"…For today and tomorrow, just do vocal practice. Later on you might not be able to rest even if you want to."
Start the choreography slowly while watching how the wound healed, and for now be satisfied with vocals. I nodded. Still, it was better than nothing.
Yesterday they had made such an absurd fuss about what if the wound reopened while I was doing diaphragmatic breathing that I had been forced upstairs before I could even touch vocal practice.
Looking around, the team had so many loud people that I had just gotten swept along. Thanks to everyone shoving me off to bed, I had ended up lying there reading lyrics until I fell asleep.
Anyway, I had permission now. Vocals today, and tomorrow, depending on how things looked, maybe start choreography practice with Kwon Do-ha. I was walking and making plans when a sudden realization hit me.
Come to think of it, I haven't been dreaming lately.
During third-round prep I had been waking up almost every day, but now that I thought about it I had not dreamed at all recently. Had I already dreamed every dream worth having? Probably not.
Whether I left the crisis-detection signal light on or off when I slept, these past few days I had been dropping into deep sleep without a single scrap of a dream. My mental health was improving so fast I could feel it day by day.
People really do need to sleep properly.
Maybe that was why the tea I drank half-asleep every morning had changed too. A sudden curiosity made me toss the question over my shoulder at Sang-jin climbing the stairs behind me.
"Hyung, what's the name of the tea you gave me today?"
"Chamomile."
"The one you usually make is lavender, right?"
"Yeah."
Chamomile, lavender. Even someone who knew nothing about herbs had heard those names somewhere. I had never actually drunk them before, though. Weren't herb teas expensive?
"I'm drinking it and everything, but is it really okay for you to make me a cup every day? You brought that for yourself."
"It's nice having someone to drink it with."
They were tea bags anyway, so steeping one extra while he made his own was nothing. I nodded obediently.
To anyone looking he was the older hyung, four years my senior, but the number of days I had actually lived was larger. And yet he still gave off this fully fledged guardian vibe. He was the type who was used to taking care of people.
I kept receiving kindness left and right. How was I supposed to pay all of it back?
"Hyung, is there anything you need?"
"Hmm…"
He thought for a long time, then shook his head. Meaning he had never even considered a return gift. I had already known from the way he gave things so casually that he was the type who treated taking a loss as the natural order of things.
He probably doesn't even think of it as a loss…
There were too many recklessly kind people in this rough world. Was it just in the blood? I clicked my tongue inwardly.
"If you need anything, just tell me."
"Just listen when I talk."
"Not that. Ah—"
He told me to take better care of myself and flicked me on the forehead. I had heard he came from a big family. I suddenly felt jealous of Han Sang-jin's real younger siblings.
"Alright, contestants of Idol Survival—here is a special opportunity just for you! Live broadcast! The precious time when you can communicate with the fans who support you is almost here!"
When the MC announced that the top five who completed the mid-broadcast mission would receive a Pass, a few of the lower-ranked contestants' eyes lit up.
I still did not know exactly how it would work, but if the reward was a confirmed Finals berth, then people who already held a Pass and the higher-ranked contestants had zero reason to try hard. It was content with no stake for them.
Since the reward was useless to me anyway, I was thinking it would not be so bad to drop out early after leaving a good impression—when two people raised their hands. Song A-seong and An Do-hyeon.
"What happens if we receive a duplicate Pass?"
"What about the people who don't need a Pass?"
Their expressions were firm, asking whether this was just a pointless waste of time. The MC, as if he had expected the question, gestured to the production staff. A glittering card that shone silver-blue was handed over.
"Exactly. There are contestants who don't need a Pass. So here is the hidden benefit! Unused Passes can be exchanged for this 'Special Stage Ticket.' And duplicate Passes can even be transferred to whoever you want!"
"Special stage?"
A special stage out of nowhere at this point. Since I already held a Pass, it was as good as having obtained a Special Stage Ticket already, so I listened carefully to the explanation that followed.
"We need a more detailed explanation."
"Yes, yes. What does that mean, you ask? In other words! Only the handful of contestants holding a Special Stage Ticket will earn the right to join the Special Thanks To stage that takes place last—after the Finals stages end and before the live voting window closes."
The MC explained that the songs would be acoustic versions of the Idol Survival main theme tracks Sunlight and BLOSSOM, and I felt a faint dizziness.
An acoustic version meant it would not be a stage that required hyper-intensive preparation, but a stage was still a stage; it would not cost zero effort either. At least the songs were not completely unfamiliar. Small mercies.
Either way, it was a new stage. Two songs, no less. We would have to carve time out of preparation that was already short, but—
I can't really say no…
As the MC had stressed, the fact that the special stage "takes place last, before the live voting window closes" was simply too powerful.
Even a little extra face time on screen during the voting period was obviously more advantageous than none at all.
Thinking about it, these last-minute surprise special stages usually gathered every remaining contestant for one big performance. Turning that into a reward and dangling it in front of us was a truly vicious move.
But it was definitely a reward anyone would covet. Now the higher-ranked contestants' faces had changed as well.
"Transfers are allowed?"
"Wow, the program's just openly forcing faction wars…"
While people murmured at the sudden existence of the special stage, a snide voice leaked out from behind me. Jang Seon-woo again. Then my eyes met Nam Hye-seong's, standing behind him.
As I brushed past Jang Seon-woo on my way to Nam Hye-seong, I could see him checking his smartphone inside the hand he had shoved in his pocket.
He's holding his phone a lot.
The rule that smartphone use was banned during work hours—especially anywhere that was not the dorm—unless you had special permission clearly meant nothing to Jang Seon-woo.
I pretended not to notice and walked up to Nam Hye-seong, tapping his shoulder. The small, tensed back gradually settled into place.
"Don't worry too much. Let's just do our best."
"…Yes!"
Since duplicate Passes could be transferred, getting one more and giving it to Nam Hye-seong looked like a good option.
From Iron all the way to the Finals. I could not guarantee a debut, but even this alone made for pretty dramatic storytelling.
Especially considering Nam Hye-seong's age. He was still young enough that he could afford to look at the future more than the present.
It felt awkward talking about the future when I could not even see a week ahead myself, but it was insurance of a sort.
Nam Hye-seong's potential was greater than anyone else's here, so the stronger the connection with him, the better.
I hid the calculating thoughts and held out my fist. He bumped it with a bright smile. Motivation for the live broadcast began to rise, little by little.
Since things have turned out this way, maybe becoming the solid lifeline people are talking about behind my back wouldn't be so bad?
An hour later the contestants who had finished preparing for the live poured out of the busy studio and gathered to move together. Pre-filming before the live started.
Alpha, Beta, and Gamma groups were descending the stairs in one mass when, for less than a few seconds, my vision flashed through orange into red and then cleared again completely. I was still thinking about what that meant when a loud voice cut through.
"What do you think you're doing!"
Song A-seong stormed over with a furious face and grabbed the collar of the person next to him.
"Hyung! Blood!"
Nam Hye-seong, who had been walking ahead and turned back at the commotion, went pale and raised his voice. I looked down. Blood seeping from the wound was staining the front of my T-shirt.
Doesn't look like that much, though.
The wound had definitely reopened. The signal light really was garbage.
"Whoa, that's vicious as hell…"
Someone muttered under their breath, sounding faintly appalled.