Chapter 19
Chapter 19
There truly were things that just wouldn't happen, no matter how desperate you were.
"Wahahaha!"
"Aww, adorable. So cute."
The sounds might have seemed like something you'd hear at a children's talent show, but this was definitely a survival show set.
That was the privilege of a team with no expectations. Show even a little effort and they'd find you endearing.
That didn't mean I liked it. If I were going to be satisfied with treatment like this, I should just give up on being an idol.
"You all look like kids, and now you're singing a song like this, so it's just too cute. Seongjun, do it again."
"...F-foolishly, you try to match me again. That's your flaw, you just don't know your place, like a math dummy."
"Uwahaha!"
At Seongjun's rap, rap mentor Licks Hour threw his head back and burst into laughter. Seongjun, whose ears had flushed red to the tips, still brightened up, perhaps relieved he hadn't gotten scolded.
'Still, it's better than a harsh review.'
Because if the motivation I'd barely drummed up got crushed again, then it really would be the end of the line.
Thanks to practicing day and night, cameras on or off, our skills had improved a great deal.
That was probably part of why the atmosphere was good. The sharp-eyed mentors likely caught on that this was the best we could do right now.
Oh, and there had been an unexpected gain, too.
"But surprisingly, Neuti, your rap is actually pretty decent?"
"Huh?"
"Did you by any chance go to a speech academy or something?"
"N-no, never... a speech academy..."
"You've got a talent for it. Hey, take this chance to learn properly."
Han Neuti's rap, which I had dismissed as just 'not bad' since I had no particular insight into rapping, had received sincere praise from Licks Hour.
Strictly speaking, Han Neuti had a voice on the lower-mid range, but he had a habit of dropping his voice even lower the moment he started singing.
Usually, this would muddy the overall balance and make it uncomfortable to listen to, but he maintained such clear pronunciation it was suspicious if he truly never went to an academy.
With a good voice and diction alone, a low-tone rap could be considered above average, and on top of that, he had a natural gift for a unique flow, Licks Hour added in explanation.
"Hmm..."
And vocal mentor Joo Yeonhee, for some reason, had been scrutinizing me intently.
"Chaegyeom."
"Yes?"
"Do you by chance have a sibling in the entertainment industry, or some family?"
"...No?"
"Really?"
Joo Yeonhee, still looking unconvinced, cracked her neck and flipped through the sheet music before nodding.
"Mm, well, you did exactly as expected. The only regret is, since the expectations are high for you, I wish you'd do even better than this?"
"I'll work harder."
"Alright. It's a hip-hop song, so there's not much else I have to tell you."
Clicking her tongue as if genuinely disappointed, Joo Yeonhee gestured toward Park Hyeong-tae, who was next in line.
'Right, what matters is the dance.'
As if everyone on the team shared the same thought, we stared at him stiffly.
Park Hyeong-tae dawdled uselessly, tapping his foot, until Joo Yeonhee gave him a pointed look, and he finally opened his mouth.
"Who arranged the formation?"
"Trainee Han Neuti and I..."
"Ah, I see."
As if he had been waiting for Han Neuti's name to come out of my mouth, Park Hyeong-tae grinned widely.
"No wonder it was arranged so sneakily."
'...Snea-what?'
By rule, during the first competition of Make Back, arbitrary modification of the song and choreography was prohibited.
However, since Wonseokit was a large 10-member group, things like movement lines and formations could be adjusted.
So, we had done our best to cover the members' weaknesses by centering main dancer Han Neuti and having me, the lead dancer, support from the sides.
"Guys, don't resort to tricks. Stick all the weak ones in the back, shove focus entirely onto the main dancer. You think your skills will improve this way?"
The word 'tricks'... was an accurate description.
But idol groups these days don't even bother hiding this arrangement method. Isn't it natural to focus on the member who performs well rather than the one who doesn't?
If the argument was that a survival show requires equal distribution... well, I couldn't fully refute it, since people could have differing views on that.
'Still, it's not like our team is the only one doing this.'
It was such an ambiguous situation that depending on how it aired, you couldn't know who the arrow would strike.
The public might even curse them out instead, asking why they were only unfairly hating on our team...
—Park Hyeong-tae, you know he's tight with the PD, right?
Ah.
I remembered what the trainee next to me had said at the production showcase.
This was bad trouble.
"Anyway, fix it and do it again. I couldn't even tell Gyumin was there."
"..."
"Switch Gyumin and Chaegyeom's positions. Gyumin, since you made it here, you should at least do this much, right?"
He pretended to be concerned about Gyumin's screen time, but he clearly knew what he was saying. That Gyumin was the most behind.
And besides, it wasn't a suggestion, it was coercion? That was clearly not advice but sabotage.
As we stood there collectively chewing our lips, unable to answer, Park Hyeong-tae hummed a tune and looked over at Han Neuti.
"Hey, Neuti."
"...Tch."
Han Neuti openly clicked his tongue and glared right back at Park Hyeong-tae. The cool aloofness he normally hid well surfaced plainly, creating a threatening atmosphere.
This guy, he'd always distinguished between being on and off camera before.
As I reached my hand up behind his back, Han Neuti hurriedly straightened his posture. Park Hyeong-tae, who had been watching this whole process with a smirk, asked.
"Is being an idol fun?"
At those words, Han Neuti just glared at Park Hyeong-tae.
After the mid-term evaluation feedback ended, we gathered to sit down for a revision meeting.
"D-do we have to change it?"
Since Park Hyeong-tae, who was close with the PD, had already told us to 'change it,' there was no telling how the editing would go if we didn't.
Don't change, do well: The team that scored cheaply through underhanded methods. Don't change, fail: The team that stubbornly ignored the mentor's advice and failed.
Change and fail: Just a failed team.
Changing and doing well was the best outcome, but there was no possibility of that. Sorry, Gyumin.
"...I'm going to get some water."
Han Neuti, who had worn a grim expression the entire time after facing Park Hyeong-tae, picked up his water bottle and stood up.
With the mood set for a subtitle reading, 'Trainee Han Neuti eventually leaves his seat,' I sprang up too.
"I'll go with you!"
"Huh? O-oh. Sure. Suit yourself."
When I deliberately spoke with forced brightness, the hand holding the bottle flinched.
I felt just as bitter as he did... but if we didn't put on this act, we'd just become 'Two trainees who left their seats,' so what else could we do?
We made an exaggerated show of pointing out we were going to get water as we left the practice room.
Since it had come to this, I intended to at least bring up the topic of Park Hyeong-tae as we walked to find the water purifier.
"..."
But his expression clearly said 'don't ask,' no matter who looked.
Normally, I had zero curiosity about other people's personal lives, but if it was the man the System had selected, that was a different story.
Pretending to be totally oblivious to the mood, I bluntly asked.
"Did something happen between you two?"
"...Sorry, I'll tell you later."
That wasn't going to work.
'There's no way he means 'later' sincerely.'
Even setting aside my personal circumstances, judging by the current situation, Park Hyeong-tae was highly likely to keep sabotaging the team mission with groundless fault-finding.
Should I try to poke at his guilt by phrasing it that way?
"Hey, hold on a sec. I'm gonna wash my hands. Got marker on them."
"Okay."
Han Neuti changed course and disappeared.
I mulled over all sorts of underhanded ways to extract the story from him as I searched for the water purifier.
It was just as I finally found the purifier and opened my water bottle.
"Ah, Neuti's team? The good-looking one."
"..."
Park Hyeong-tae approached with his hands shoved in his pockets, propped an arm against the wall, and leaned in with fake friendliness.
I bowed my head while filling the bottle with water.
"Hello, sir."
"Wow, you're practically glowing. Idols really are a different species from us, huh."
"Thank you."
Park Hyeong-tae stopped as if he had something to say and silently watched me fill the water.
A scent I had encountered before, green grape-flavored cigarette smoke, slowly seeped from his vicinity towards me.
By the time the bottle was about half full, I figured I was going to get soaked in it too, so I addressed him first.
"Did you have something to say?"
"You. There's nothing good to gain from hanging around that guy."
'Again with this.'
Or rather, chronologically speaking, he probably started instigating this first. He must be over 30 by now, yet his behavior was worse than some kids'.
Normally, I would have pretended not to hear.
"Why?"
But this once, let's ask.
Looking like he'd just landed a whopper of a catch, Park Hyeong-tae took his hand off the wall and grabbed my wrist, as if to whisper.
"Ow."
"...What? Why?"
The sudden sharp pain made me pull my arm back.
Even I was puzzled, so I pulled up my sleeve, revealing a red-scratched wound.
'Ah, from the mini-game.'
It was just a scratch from another trainee's fingernail that had been scraped away further by Park Hyeong-tae's ring.
I shook my head, dismissing it as nothing, and was about to refocus on the conversation.
"What are you doing?"
"Ah, Rei..."
"I asked what you're doing right now."
Han Neuti strode over, grabbed my shoulder, and pulled me toward him.
Caught off guard, I stumbled backward without any strength, and Han Neuti, who stepped in front of me, glared daggers at Park Hyeong-tae, looking ready to grab him by the collar any second.
At that murderous glare, Park Hyeong-tae shrank back like a turtle and grumbled.
"We were just chatting, chatting. You're as touchy as ever."
"What do you mean, chatting..."
"Chaegyeom, let's talk later."
"Okay."
Park Hyeong-tae awkwardly avoided Han Neuti's eyes while throwing me a last greeting, then stiffly removed himself from the spot.
Han Neuti, who glared at where he disappeared for a long while, clicked his tongue and turned his head toward me.
"Hey, what are you answering for? At times like that, just say 'No, I don't want to'—"
Han Neuti, who had been scolding me in a half-joking tone, froze solid the moment his eyes landed on my wrist.
"Hey, your arm."
"This?"
When I raised my arm to show him, Han Neuti stepped back slightly.
He scanned my wound from a distance, then suddenly scowled harshly. He looked toward the direction Park Hyeong-tae had disappeared and muttered under his breath.
"Fuck, that bastard still thinks he's some kind of predator."
I blankly followed his gaze, then it hit me.
'Don't tell me this guy.'
He perceived me as some pitiful water deer before a predator.
Whether I was dumbfounded or not, Han Neuti, who had tensed his body as though about to dash off immediately, stopped in his tracks chewing on curses.
Then, he irritably ran a hand through his hair.
"Let's go. To put some ointment on."
Han Neuti started to grab my wrist, hesitated, then fumblingly took my hand instead.
In the midst of having more to worry about thanks to Park Hyeong-tae, going all the way to the supply room was an obvious waste of time. I finally opened my mouth to clear up the misunderstanding.
"Hyung."
"What's up?"
I had originally meant to do that.
"..."
"Hey, hey hey. What's wrong! W-were you that scared...?"
I nodded silently and subtly pulled my sleeve down. If he had just observed a little more carefully, he'd notice it wasn't a fresh wound from just now anyway.
'Lucky he's someone disconnected from the concept of delicacy.'
I couldn't quite bring myself to act pitiful. So I just kept my eyes cast down, recalled Gray1's speech patterns, and spoke timidly.
"He suddenly... told me not to... mingle with you... and then suddenly..."
Suddenly... did nothing to me.
I just glossed over it vaguely, but Han Neuti's pupils began to shake violently. I hadn't lied, so I felt no guilt.
Before I knew it, both of his hands were on my shoulders, trying to comfort me with a touch that was impossible to tell if it was patting or massaging, and I finally got to the point.
"What exactly is the relationship between you two?"
His hands stopped dead.
Han Neuti stared at the floor for a long moment, then let out a small curse and looked up.