Chapter 6
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: I Transformed into an Idol
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The final echoes of the song scattered through the studio along with the arpeggio melody.
The inside of the filming set was enveloped in an eerily profound silence.
Yoo Sanghyeon had stopped his pen on the evaluation sheet, staring at Siyeon with the expression of someone who had just seen a ghost.
The first to break the silence was another judge sitting beside him.
As a current idol who could even produce his own music, he simply couldn't accept this situation as reality.
"...Siyeon. That song you just sang... you really wrote the lyrics and composed it yourself?"
It was a question Siyeon had anticipated.
The song was infused with the experience of a former professional producer, carrying a depth that no nine-year-old could possibly draw from their life.
Yoo Sanghyeon chimed in, eyeing her suspiciously.
"Siyeon, let me be honest. The chord progressions and the metaphors in the lyrics are far too sophisticated. If you got help from a professional composer, it's better to admit it now. Your singing alone is more than enough to get you into the finals."
His tone was gentle, but it carried the sharp edge of scrutiny.
This could easily spiral into a controversy over manipulation.
But Siyeon didn't falter; she simply flashed a bright smile.
"I figured you'd doubt me. I must look too young to you all."
I carefully set down the guitar on my lap and pulled a small USB from my pocket, waving it at the production staff.
"How about this, then? I actually prepared this one in case KY's CEO Jina shows up today... Consider it a bonus to change the mood."
Yoo Sanghyeon's eyebrow twitched.
Rather than dodging the verification, this kid was pulling out a new card and charging straight ahead. He seemed overwhelmed by her boldness.
Moments later, once Seo Siyeon was ready, a powerful bass rhythm blasted through the speakers.
Dong, dong, dong-!
The sleek synth sounds and addictive beats unique to fourth-generation idols reverberated through the set.
Siyeon stepped lightly in time with the rhythm.
This was a genre that would trend in the future.
But no matter the era, people's ears were honest.
Just as we still raved about classical music from centuries ago or 90s hits remade for new generations, good music transcended time and place.
With the guitar set aside, Siyeon's movements were light, her expression instantly shifting to that of a bubbly idol.
Embarrassment was fleeting.
But the impact left behind was eternal.
I knew full well I couldn't pull off high-difficulty K-pop choreography.
That's why the choreography—roughly adapted from Japanese idol dances—made my somewhat cool demeanor look vibrant and lively.
Colorful hearts pouring out are Jelly!
Pop, and you'll fall for me hook, line, and sinker-!
The lyrics were lighthearted, but the track's quality was flawless.
Layered over punchy drum beats, Siyeon's crisp vocals transformed the studio into a music show stage in an instant.
Anyone could see it was prime commercial gold, ready to top charts right then and there.
Mid-song, Siyeon even winked at Yoo Sanghyeon, throwing in some point choreography with casual flair.
Gasps of "Whoa..." erupted from all corners of the set.
Yoo Sanghyeon had completely set down his pen and let out a hollow chuckle.
A sorrowful ballad followed by an upbeat dance pop track.
Witnessing a nine-year-old flawlessly produce original songs in these polar-opposite genres, the doubts in his mind melted into awe.
"...Siyeon. That backing track you just used—the MR—you made that yourself too?"
The moment the song ended, Yoo Sanghyeon leaned forward urgently.
"Yes. The PC bang owner let me borrow his computer to record it. Believe me now?"
In the meantime, Siyeon slipped in a shoutout to the PC bang owner to repay the favor.
As I tilted my head questioningly, Yoo Sanghyeon shook his head and raised both hands in surrender.
"No, I have to believe you. No one else could pull this off. Siyeon... how many original songs like this do you have?"
"Um... around twenty, I think!"
"Hah. You're a total monster."
The instant "monster" left Yoo Sanghyeon's lips, I knew.
The scales of this audition were firmly in my grasp.
I aced the judges unanimously, breezed through the wrap-up interview, and returned to Evergreen Sky Nursery in high spirits.
'This... if things go well, I might even win? Turns out I'm surprisingly stage-proof since my singing's on point.'
And two weeks later, watching the aired episode of the Seoul auditions, Siyeon changed her tune and declared:
"Okay, analysis complete. I can't beat that."
Because there was one monster in the mix.
A week after Singer Star Season 5's premiere.
That single week was enough to upend Siyeon's nursery life entirely.
On broadcast day, the Evergreen Sky Nursery living room buzzed like a World Cup final.
From the director nun to the rowdy elementary kids and even the high school seniors who never showed their faces, everyone huddled in front of the TV.
Hell, even the graduating seniors crawled out of study hall to crowd around the nursery TV.
"Hey, there she is! Number 147!"
As Siyeon's face appeared on screen with the narration, the room stirred.
The Siyeon on TV wasn't the timid, quiet girl from the nursery.
Slinging her battered guitar case, unflinching before a big shot like CEO Yoo Sanghyeon—that audacious vibe left the kids breathless.
Especially when Yoo Sanghyeon subtly pressured her, and Siyeon fired back without missing a beat; everyone was floored.
"Crazy... that's really Seo Siyeon? Was she always like that?"
"Whoa, listen to her talk. Totally different from how she is with us."
The kids reeled from the gap between the nursery's quiet Seo Siyeon and the TV's genius girl.
Seo Siyeon smirked amid the vibe.
'This is what real star power feels like? Kinda fun.'
Soon, her original song 'Me and You' began to play.
The rowdy living room fell silent as if doused with cold water.
Siyeon's voice wove through the guitar melody, piercing the stuffy nursery air and burrowing into the kids' hearts.
Even Minji, who usually chucked blankets at her and cracked jokes, lost her playfulness.
The kids instinctively realized it.
The girl singing on screen wasn't some quiet orphan they could mess with—she was a special someone stepping into another world.
Then 'Jelly Pop' kicked in, flipping the mood, and the energy peaked.
The addictive beat had the older sisters bobbing along unconsciously.
"Whoa, what's that song? I love it! Epic!"
"Seo Siyeon! You really made that? Is that what you were always doing at the PC bang?"
As the broadcast ended with Yoo Sanghyeon showering praise, calling her a monster, the lights flicked on.
But no one nagged Siyeon like usual. Awe and awkwardness hung in the air.
A week later, my standing had completely flipped.
No one ordered me to fold blankets in the mornings anymore.
Instead, someone would sneakily tidy them up before I even woke, then vanish.
I took it as a peace offering from my roommates.
"Um... Siyeon. This is chocolate milk from lunch today. I hate milk, so you have it."
Same in the cafeteria.
Snacks started appearing next to my tray in the corner where I ate alone.
The impact of dominating a national audition, snagging unanimous passes to the finals, exceeded my wildest expectations.
My PC bang was already buzzing with rumors; the place was packed with people dying to see me.
Last time, I dropped by casually and spent an hour signing autographs and posing for pics.
Business was booming, so the owner looked thrilled. Good enough.
"Still, borrowing your account for some LoL was nice."
My skills hadn't rusted after ages; that cocky college kid who bragged about carrying got rattled by my play.
Those prime gaming days left a solid foundation—normal matches were a breeze.
"So, what's it like being an insta-star?"
"Annoying as hell. Big time."
For someone who'd holed up composing tracks, this spotlight was overwhelming.
"Tch, some of us can't get recognized in Korea to save our lives. Don't say that shit in front of me—it's salt in the wound!"
I could only gape in disbelief.
He wasn't a nobody; research showed he was huge.
Spotify streams put his group at 11th among Korean acts.
Excluding idols? A solid second.
Hearing that from someone who headlined Lollapalooza, Coachella, and Countdown Japan yearly felt weird.
Anyway, my reason for hitting this sketchy instrument shop in a back alley today was simple.
"Teach me your songs, Master."
"...Since when am I your master, punk?"
"Hehe. Good's good, right?"
Might as well milk the connection.
With his hiatus turning him into a man of leisure, I'd decided to learn songs from him.