Chapter 7
Chapter 7
"It was perfect."
"Thank......."
"Perfect, but."
Park Hyeong-tae rubbed his chin with one hand and took a long, audible breath in.
"It's way too obvious that you were scheming."
"......."
"I can see you tried to cover up your lack of dance skills with your song choice. That might work for now, but what are you going to do later?"
With 14 years of broadcast experience, Joo Yeonhee could read his intent immediately.
'He's fishing for an edit point.'
Regardless of the participant's actual reasons, if he couldn't turn the atmosphere around here, the production team would really edit it as if 'that' was the reason.
Since viewers only believed what was aired, it meant it was only a matter of time before this participant's first impression became 'the guy who schemed to hide his lack of skills.'
'Just because his agency looks weak, they're really going for it.'
Having faced countless slights herself in her early debut days coming from a mid-sized agency, Joo Yeonhee felt a quiet sense of kinship and tapped her pen down with clear dissatisfaction.
"When you're lacking, you should get scolded for it and learn as you fix it."
"......."
"I get that you're handsome and can sing well. But that doesn't mean you can just dance easy choreo all the time and get praised for your 'nice dance lines.' You want to be a trainee forever?"
And on the surface, he wasn't wrong either.
The choreography was monotonous and easy, after all. As for the song, it was only difficult in terms of conveying emotion—its vocal range was fairly moderate.
'It isn't a song choice suited for survival shows.'
Hmm, Joo Yeonhee deliberated, then discreetly pulled out her phone under the table.
[Writer-nim can I request an additional stage? Freestyle dance]
[Writer: Please stick to the script. The trainee will be flustered if it's sprung on him suddenly.]
[Got it;;]
Joo Yeonhee, who had signaled her displeasure with sweat marks, swallowed her complaints internally.
'If you're not even going to let us request a stage, why bother seating mentors here? Just do everything yourselves.'
Ah, she just wanted to expose it all.
Those scenes that always appeared at least once during the first evaluation stage of MAKE100%—the 'Trainee A perfectly pulls off a stage requested on the spot by a mentor.'
It was all scripted.
They were just performing as if they'd done it impromptu, when it was actually a stage prepared in advance with the production team.
An opportunity—no, a special privilege—that only a select few trainees got to receive!
'I wish I didn't know. I even quit drinking because I was afraid I'd expose it!'
This fact was a closely guarded secret known only to some of the production crew, the trainees themselves, and the mentors who read the scripts.
They say it's unavoidable for dramatic production, but they must feel a bit guilty, right?
"Trainee Seo Cha-gyeom, it seems like you need to develop a bit of a competitive spirit. I enjoyed your stage."
Park Hyeong-tae finally lowered his mic.
Joo Yeonhee, who had been fuming at the network's unfair practices, calmly raised her own mic, pretending to be relaxed.
Dance wasn't her field, so there was nothing she could do about that, but she would praise his vocals to the fullest extent.
As much as she wanted to screw over the production team, she'd add extra, and even more on top of that!
"Well, then."
But the participant spoke faster than Joo Yeonhee could open her mouth.
"Is it really okay if I challenge myself?"
"Huh? ......What did you say?"
Park Hyeong-tae asked again, dumbfounded, but the participant was looking somewhere else.
'Where is he looking?'
Joo Yeonhee turned her head to follow his gaze.
In the meantime, Seo Cha-gyeom tilted his head slightly, as if this situation felt a bit awkward. He couldn't afford to look like he was picking a fight for no reason.
"I'd also......."
The trainees seated behind the mentor panel watched Seo Cha-gyeom with curious expressions, waiting for his next words.
Among them, Seo Cha-gyeom made eye contact with Ahn Jiwon, whose expression alone had stiffened, and smiled shyly.
"I'd like to try a freestyle too."
* * *
I watched the suddenly flustered mentor panel and production crew and thought to myself.
'They wouldn't say no, would they.'
Requests for additional stages had come from the judging panel side repeatedly, so the reverse shouldn't be a violation of the rules either.
Still, I'd given them a little nudge just in case they tried to refuse. With a glance that conveyed, 'He did it, so I want to do it too.'
But still, was it really something to get this flustered over?
Was their meeting really this long?
Just then, the mentor who had been whispering with the production crew picked up his mic.
"Um, Trainee Seo Cha-gyeom?"
"Yes."
"If this stage falls short of our expectations right now, your grade could actually drop. You're aware of that, right?"
"I'm prepared for it."
When it came to freestyle dance at an audition, it usually meant performing an improvised dance on the spot to a song randomly selected by the judges.
It was known as an event that was hard to prepare for in advance because you couldn't know what song would play.
That was why 'whether the song that comes out is one you know or don't know' was such a crucial point that it could make or break the outcome.
So, should I just pray that a song I know comes on by luck?
No. What decided the result in a freestyle wasn't something like luck.
"Play track 13, please."
At Kim Ik-hyeon's instruction, the speakers resonated again. I stepped a foot back and focused on the song.
Soon, the low, husky voice of a famous pop singer filled the filming set.
A clap beat that followed cheerfully at the end of every bar, a popular melody that encouraged sing-alongs.
As the finely shredded hi-hat sound indicated, the part was the third verse chorus, where the part transitioned from house to trap.
'As expected.'
While reviewing the past six seasons, I had been able to discover one commonality in the freestyles that appeared every time during this grade evaluation stage.
Namely, the songs were always selected exclusively from hits released within three years of the filming date.
Then, it became simple.
"......Wow."
Just memorize them all.
"Hey, what is this guy?"
"What? Why is he good? He shouldn't be good! This is cheating!"
In addition to the songs carefully chosen by those criteria, including the remix versions that split into multiple versions following recent Billboard trends, it came to approximately 300 songs.
I memorized them all. Over the course of a month.
"Hyeong-tae, I think you'd better apologize quickly right about now? I think you're going to get cursed out by the viewers?"
"......."
I smiled smugly at Park Hyeong-tae, who was biting his lip hard.
'Thanks to you, I got to put it to use.'
I was grateful, sincerely.
* * *
"How do you feel about getting Tier 1?"
"I was secretly hoping for it, and it really turned out as I hoped......."
The interview proceeded with mostly predictable questions.
The atmosphere was peaceful, but since I had no idea how or where things would be spliced together, I answered focusing on the most positive words possible.
"What were you thinking as you approached the stage?"
"I think I was just thinking that I should do well."
I had tried to do reasonably well.
If you kick things off with an intense stage, you'd only end up pushed aside by a growth-type latecomer who gets a good edit anyway.
So my goal was a stage that was better than expected for a trainee, yet still left something to anticipate—a trainee-like stage.
One that made you more curious about what they'd be like after debut.
In other words, it was to display a sense of being unfinished.
Freestyle at an audition was originally an event meant to check your practice volume and fundamentals, so slightly modifying routines had been enough.
"Was there a particular reason you chose this song?"
"I personally received a tremendous amount of comfort from this song. So I really wanted to let you hear it at least once."
Flyde, who sang "a hue," couldn't exactly be called famous, but among idol fans, they were a group that got mentioned fairly often for having good songs.
People naturally developed a fondness for someone who 'well' covered a song they liked, especially one that wasn't famous.
The lack of recognition among the general public was a flaw, if you could call it that... but half of the general public naturally evaporated once the program ended anyway.
Targeting the hardcore fanbase, who had a higher likelihood of sticking around and watching for a long time, was the best move I judged for my current situation.
"Thank you for your hard work with the interview. You may return to your seat."
"Thank you."
Even with all this effort, if I didn't get aired, it would all be in vain, but that was something to worry about later.
"Hyung!"
First, I needed to figure out why this guy's attitude had changed so drastically.
"You were so cool, seriously!"
This guy, clinging to one of my arms with his eyes sparkling brightly, was indeed that Ahn Jiwon.
It was an act of pretending to be close that anyone could see, but it wasn't unpleasant. He had plenty of friends and still looked after the isolated guy in the next seat—that was something to be grateful for, really.
I was grateful, but.
'He clearly seemed to find me annoying, though?'
Hadn't he been staring at me coldly earlier when our eyes met on stage?
......I still couldn't get a read on his intentions, but.
"You danced really well too."
"Hey, can't we drop the formal speech?"
"You danced well."
"Call me Jiwon!"
"Sure, Jiwon. You were cool."
"Hehe."
I'd just play along.
It was a beneficial situation for me anyway. As much as two-shots got aired, I'd be able to steal even a single frame of the spotlight that would pour onto Ahn Jiwon.
Besides, from now on, it was time to focus.
"Wow, there are six independent trainees this season?"
"I'm looking forward to it. Who will become the next Hyeonseong."
As the mentors recited their lines, the next group of participants appeared.
'I've waited long enough.'
If someone asked me which team I was most looking forward to in this evaluation, I would say this one without hesitation.
The independent trainees, unaffiliated with any company.
Except in cases where they'd come out after coordinating with the production crew in advance, most of them had likely decided to appear hoping for agency contact.
The probability of them being pre-selected was negligible too, so they were the participants best suited to my current objectives.
'The more I save on penalties, the better.'
I stopped my shallow calculations and calmly observed them.
A total of 6 independent trainees this season.
However, going by first impressions alone, there was only one participant worth being interested in.
"I'm unaffiliated, 22 years old, Han Neuti."
"Don't they usually say 'independent trainee'? He's unique. Sounds like a politician."
"Ah, sorry, I... individual, independent trainee."
Deep black hair, long, sharply slanted eyes, visible sclera beneath the irises.
A face that possessed every feature that came to mind with the term 'delinquent look,' yet the thought 'handsome' came before 'scary.'
So if you asked if my interest was simply because of his face... that reason was true too, but.
"......He's glowing?"
"Excuse me?"
Wasn't that person incredibly... sparkling?
Light was flickering around the participant who kept bowing his head, fumbling at the mentor's points.
I rubbed my eyes several times at the unbelievable sight.
Ahn Jiwon looked back and forth between me and the participant, then asked in a baffled voice.
"Did you fall for him?"
"......."
Apparently, this halo was only visible to my eyes.
Right, if he'd attained enlightenment, he should be going to a temple, not coming here.
In that case, there was only one culprit.
'It's a hint.'
I briefly glared at the System, which I'd find repulsive even if you shoved a million won into my hand, then quickly lightened my mood.
It had saved me some trouble, so I should be thankful.
Let's see what kind of eye the System has.
* * *
"Hmm......."
"Mm, I see."
The mentor panel looked puzzled after the stage.
One of them, who had been setting the mood for a while, picked up the mic.
"I can only see Trainee Han Neuti."
"......."
Though said as a compliment, the participant dropped his head.
"He dances the best. He dances the best, but......."
"There's no feel of an idol 'group.' It's like you have zero intention of matching the group choreography?"
"You stand out too much alone. The overall balance completely collapses because of you, Neuti. As it is, going solo would be far better."
Eventually, even a line like this appeared.
"Do you even have any intention of becoming an idol?"
"......Yes, yes. I want to."
"Okay, fine. I can't say anything against what you want to do. But keep this in mind. You'll have to work a lot."
Objectively, his dance skills were outstanding. Enough to call him the best among the participants, including me.
However, this was a place for selecting idols.
In this market where knife-like group choreography had gone beyond a trend to become a steady staple, his individuality—unable to blend in and sticking out—could actually be a negative factor.
"Trainee Han Neuti, Tier 3."
"Th... thank you."
Still, you might think Tier 3 was too harsh a grade for someone who danced that well, but.
The problem was his singing ability.
His singing was a bit.......
Well, the less perfect he was, the more beneficial it was for me.
Wouldn't it make the recruitment difficulty that much easier?
For now, I decided to be satisfied that he wasn't bad for a participant singled out by the System that had chosen Sorasum as its agency.
"Wow, I really want to debut with him."
"Has that been a broadcast-friendly comment this whole time? Or mean it for real?"
Ahn Jiwon blocked his mic again and whispered.
Instead of answering, I just shrugged my shoulders.