A week after we got the audition acceptance notice, I arrived at the CNet building far earlier than the time we’d been given. I used to come here constantly when I was working as a guitar session player, but it’d been nearly ten years now.
Old men love it when you show up early.
The Seo Insoo PD I remembered was the king of old-school—young, but the fussiest dinosaur of them all.
“Room 501, right?”
They must’ve had other teams through already; a temporary visitor pass was issued in a flash. I took the elevator to the fifth floor, and as soon as the doors opened, I saw 501 at the end of the hall. Right then the door to 501 swung open and two men stepped into the corridor.
Good thing I had a mask and cap on, tight. I knew one of those faces well.
Hitchhiker’s vocalist, Ha Jongbeom.
So they were entering Band Again this time too. The unshifting flow from the past eased me. Looked like he’d just finished an interview with PD Seo. Already walking around with a manager glued to his side—agency kids really are on a different track.
“Hello.”
Our eyes met and I bowed without hesitation. Nowhere has more eyes on you than a broadcast station. Even if they didn’t know who I was yet, there was no downside to being careful.
A greeting is the bare minimum.
“Wow. Thinks he’s a celebrity already, huh?”
The reaction was beyond expectations. I knew he was rude, but to have started before debut? I’d run into him a few times before regression, but by then Hitchhiker had already won Band Again, so maybe that’s why his nose had been so high.
“Jongbeom, please...”
“What? Did I say something wrong? Look at him all bundled up—who does he think is watching—”
“God...”
“Clout-chaser if I ever saw one.”
A snickering laugh pitched just loud enough for me to hear. I hid my smile under the mask.
Who’s calling who a clout-chaser.
Right after winning Band Again, this punk got hit with an Enstagram DM scandal. Even while filming, he’d been sliding into every woman’s DMs, and it all blew up. One of the girls—who truly believed she was dating Ha Jongbeom—posted a congratulations on his win, and all the other “girlfriends,” shocked by that post, popped out of the woodwork.
Enjoy the attention, did you?
“See you on set.”
Though you won’t be seeing my face.
I made a point of looking down on him as I said it. Starting off fun, aren’t we.
“What a piece of—”
He kept muttering crap to his manager, but that was outside my concern.
Knock, knock.
I tapped twice, light, and opened the door to 501. This was the only thing I needed to care about.
“Come in.”
With a heavy sigh, Seo Insoo rubbed his face and pushed his glasses up. The vocalist from Hitchhiker—the one he’d pinned his hopes on—was much worse than expected. Grinning and playing nice, but the temperament screamed handful.
He also hated how every time he asked one question, the manager answered ten.
This is why trainee kids are a no.
Clinging like death to the agency-crafted image. His interest plummeted in an instant.
“Hello!”
Which is why the next entrant felt fresh from the moment he came in. This was the first contestant who actually showed up alone after being told to come alone. Some brought managers, some brought members and friends, one even brought his mom.
I like him already.
Even bundled up, his overall carriage wasn’t ordinary. Seo had watched the video so many times he could guess who it was by body alone.
“No way...”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Choi Juyeon, the vocalist of Blank.”
And then he took off the cap and the mask at the same time, revealing his face.
Jackpot. This was a jackpot.
“Why the hell were you wearing a mask?”
The question shot out before he could think. That’s how genuine it was.
He’d nearly gone mad with curiosity about the face under the mask the whole time he watched Blank’s audition video. But apart from curiosity, he hadn’t expected much. There’s usually a reason you hide behind a mask.
First thought, naturally: Is he ugly?
No—this good-looking as a civilian and yet he wore a mask?
“Because I wanted to hide my identity.”
Right. If it wasn’t ugly, the second candidate reason was this.
Hiding his identity...
“...Ash?”
He finally hit the answer.
And with it, that face—cold enough to be frightening a second ago—lit up in a drawn-on smile.
“This is insane.”
Seo PD couldn’t hide his excitement; he sprang to his feet. From the moment he first conceived Band Again, this was one of the bands he had to cast. Even if the band vanished in an instant.
The guitarist from the band ASH was the vocalist of Blank. Ever since their vocalist Bae Shinwoo debuted solo, no one knew what became of the supernova of a boy band.
To say they didn’t just go under but evaporated wouldn’t be an exaggeration—and now they were reappearing on Band Again?
His mind raced. From the first entrance shot to the edit direction, it all snapped into place in seconds. This would be more dramatic than any drama.
Once when he watched the masked audition. Twice when he saw the face today. And a third time when he learned the identity.
The broadcast hadn’t even started, and he’d been shocked three times already. Among all the audition contestants he’d ever met, this entrance was incomparable.
“Are you planning to take the masks off during the survival?”
A question, disguised as a plea. A desperate wish that they would, please, take them off.
“Of course.”
“Any idea... when...?”
Contrary to his worry, the answer came crisp and clean, and he found himself clapping.
“Anytime works. We’re going all the way to the end, no matter what.”
“Ha—”
How long had it been since he felt this? The exclamation slipped out pure.
He’s a monster.
“So we’ll rip them off when it’s most fun—nice and loud.”
God was on his side after all. In that moment, his certainty crystalized: this season of Band Again would be a guaranteed smash.
Maybe more than any survival he’d ever made.
At last, morning broke on our first day of filming. The other members, with no broadcast experience, were tense from head to toe. I made an easy circuit of the set to clock the camera positions, and they trailed me like ducklings.
“Whoa, there are so many people.”
“How many cameras even is that.”
“Uwaa—”
Good thing I put masks on them.
If you took the masks off now, they’d all be standing around, mouths hanging open, looking dumb.
The waiting room filled quickly with contestants. Everyone looked different in their own way, but nothing stood out more than animal masks. I could feel every person who came in staring at us like we were some curiosity.
But the mood in the room flipped the instant Hitchhiker arrived.
Hitchhiker was the first band in five years from GM Media, a powerhouse famed for bands. Newbies who’d only just debuted, but they’d already built a large fanbase from member reveals and SNS activity. From the moment their participation was announced, everyone had them penciled in as finalists.
And in the pre-regression past, they really were the winners of Band Again Season 1.
Hitchhiker... They weren’t just skilled—they were overwhelmingly popular.
They were the team I’d kept most in mind while preparing for the audition. Given PD Seo Insoo’s love of topicality and character, it was obvious he’d compare Blank against them. Sure enough, Ha Jongbeom didn’t recognize me. The way he kept glancing around didn’t suit him—looked like he was trying to find me, though.
“Alright, all teams gathered? We’ll head to the set in ten minutes. Please get your instruments ready.”
“Yes!”
I gathered my members, who’d been too busy gaping to focus.
“Okay. Just do exactly what we prepared.”
“Shouldn’t we do better than that?”
“Wow, kitty—that’s the most nutritious thing you’ve ever said.”
“Thanks for the compliment, doggy~”
Even with the first shoot looming, Kwon Taejin kept goofing, and it worked—everyone loosened up. I was used to broadcasts, but it was my first survival too. First time being formally evaluated in front of judges.
But I didn’t feel like running. This tension I’d never been able to feel before regression—it was exactly what I’d waited and wished for.
“The era of bands returns. I’m your Band Again MC, Jin Hyunseok.”
Most of the room couldn’t hide their awe at seeing celebrities in person.
“Gasp—looks like Hitchhiker’s right next to us.”
The moment I saw the seating chart, conflicting feelings hit. Putting Hitchhiker right beside us had an obvious motive.
They wanted a head-to-head between Blank and Hitchhiker.
I’d already felt it in the interview with PD Seo—he was obviously fixated on our team. Hitchhiker had been the center of attention since the casting announcement, and here he was trying to position us as rivals even before our identities were revealed.
It was the kind of setup where we could easily get buried as fodder to make Hitchhiker shine.
No chance.
Actually, thank you. In skill and in looks, our members were better. That’s why I’d exposed our faces and identities to PD Seo ahead of time. If he wanted to use us, he could try.
“Even though this is only season one, over 300 bands applied nationwide—proof of the hot interest out there! Those of you here were selected as the top thirty.”
“Less than a ten percent pass rate?”
“Guess we were a lot better than we thought!”
Everyone buzzed at having made it through a lower acceptance rate than expected. But the MC’s voice cut cleanly on.
“And today, through the preliminary stage, ten teams will be eliminated.”
For the word eliminated to appear this fast— The set froze in an instant; no one opened their mouth easily.
I patted Go Hangyeol lightly on the shoulder.
“Don’t worry. We’re not getting cut today.”
“O-of course.”
Then Cha Seonjae leaned in and whispered.
“Broadcast is... brutal.”
I was sure he’d wanted to put a “fucking” in front of that. This was exactly why we’d drilled confirm with yourself before you speak on camera.
Cost us a lot of sweat, that did.
Reforming the language of boys whose days began with a bleep and ended with a bleep was honestly twice as hard as instrument practice.
Just in case anyone slipped on camera, I’d banned swear words in daily life a month in advance. If someone swore, we’d smack their mouth without mercy—that was the most effective.
With the vow to land one more hit, they started watching each other like hawks for slip-ups. Especially Cha Seonjae and Kwon Taejin—only after their lips swelled up did the swearing start to drop.
“Who will survive, and who will go home? Band Again—starts now!”
In Seok Dojae and Kwon Taejin’s eyes I saw not nerves, but the hunger to get onstage fast. Only Go Hangyeol looked truly tense at this first unveiling.
“Nervous?”
“...A little? No—honestly, a lot.”
He bit down on his lip. Not a single thing had changed. The first day we stepped on stage as ASH, I’d asked him the same question, and his answer had been the same.
“Aren’t you nervous?”
The return question caught me a beat. I drew a deep breath and let it out.
My answer was the same as back then.
“That’s why I like it.”
It was tension born of anticipation. Our second debut stage was about to be shown to the world.