The judges' standards were far harsher than I'd expected. As if they'd agreed in advance, they delivered one scathing critique after another.
“Honestly, I find this a little frustrating.”
Song In-hyeok sighed.
“This is a performance where you show us what you do best. Is that so difficult?”
“Why do they all overestimate their own abilities?”
The mood in the waiting area sank lower and lower. Then again, it would soon be their turn, so they couldn't simply laugh it off.
At least the single-digit codes had begun to receive some praise.
“Next is Code 6's performance.”
This was the point where everyone truly began to pay attention.
Go Jae-seong seemed to have made extensive changes to his performance since the interim evaluation.
“The arrangement is more sophisticated than it was at the interim evaluation.”
“Thank you!”
Of course, his producing was still on a par with Go Jae-seong's mixtape from before my regression.
‘Back then, this level of skill would've been enough.’
Unfortunately for him, it wouldn't be now.
“Did you redo the choreography yourself?”
“Yes, I did!”
Maybe that was why he seemed to have put more effort into the choreography.
“No, this is so much better than at the interim evaluation that there's no comparison.”
“I worked hard on it using the feedback you gave me.”
He filled the stage with choreography entirely different from both his interim evaluation and his performance before my regression.
‘What is this……?’
It was well made. No, more precisely—
‘Isn't it too well made?’
The structure was clean, and the signature moves caught the eye at once.
Especially the hook. The move that came in half a beat late was close to the style that had been popular before my regression.
‘Am I imagining it?’
But even to me, someone who loathed Go Jae-seong, it looked good. Of course the reviews were favorable.
Katin, the dance trainer, was particularly effusive in his praise.
“It looks like choreography from a famous dance team overseas. That's how polished it was.”
“I'd like to try dancing it myself.”
“Then please dance it with me!”
With that bold final remark, Go Jae-seong's evaluation ended on a warm note.
‘Was he always that good?’
It felt different from a simple improvement in skill.
Had my participation in the survival show pushed Go Jae-seong to grow too? The unsettling question circled in my head.
Next came Code 5. Choi Un-jo's performance was like being at a hip-hop festival. It was just what I'd expect from someone who'd been in contention for the debut lineup from early on.
And finally, it was my turn.
“Code 4, please come up onstage.”
There was perfunctory applause and a sea of eyes looking at me as if to test me.
I walked slowly onto the stage.
“Phew…….”
One deep breath.
“Code 4, please introduce the performance you've prepared.”
I adjusted my grip on the microphone.
“Yes. I've prepared an original song this time. It's called ‘Yu Seong-woo.’”
Judge Jack P asked,
“You haven't been a trainee long, and this must be your first time on a stage like this. How do you feel?”
My mouth went a little dry.
“More than I expected.”
I smiled honestly.
“The stage is really big.”
My voice sounded nervous to anyone listening.
“Maybe his interim evaluation was a fluke.”
“Even if he's good, it won't matter if he has stage fright.”
I could hear the judges speaking quietly.
“Even so.”
I gripped the microphone a little harder.
“I'll show you everything I've prepared, with no regrets.”
Kang Se-jun nodded.
“Then Code 4's performance begins. Code On.”
***
The lights brightened slowly.
Beneath a pure white spotlight stood a boy with a single guitar slung over his shoulder.
A loose checked shirt, tousled black hair with a slight curl, and chunky horn-rimmed glasses.
His clothes were far too ordinary for the stage.
No, it would be more accurate to call them unfashionable.
That made him stand out all the more.
As with the other trainees, his name was revealed for the first time since the survival show began.
[Yu Seong-woo]
Three syllables appeared on the screen—his name and the Korean word for “meteor shower.” Jack P couldn't tell whether they were the song's title or the trainee's name, and the corners of his mouth rose without him realizing it.
‘Did he plan even this?’
If he'd calculated the staging too, he had an uncommon sense for it.
Just as Jack P had that thought, a guitar string sounded softly.
TING-
One clear, light note. The studio fell silent in an instant.
[I used to look up to the shining stars]
The first line.
The boy's voice trembled ever so slightly.
“Hm?”
The atmosphere at the judges' table shifted.
The fingertips holding the guitar trembled faintly too. His breathing wasn't steady either.
He had the particular awkwardness of someone on a big stage for the first time.
“Oh, dear.”
Jack P narrowed his eyes. This wasn't how the boy had been at the interim evaluation.
‘He's nervous.’
But something was strange.
[Will I someday shine as brightly as those stars?]
The raw sound of his breathing didn't bother Jack P.
‘Why?’
Jack P's finger tapped slowly against the table.
Tap.
……Tap.
[When I'm afraid of a tomorrow
I can't be sure of]
Before he knew it, the mind he'd meant to use to evaluate the performance was following the song instead.
[I close my eyes quietly and picture myself onstage]
The boy closed his eyes.
“……Ah.”
Only then did Jack P realize why Yu Seong-woo's clumsiness onstage hadn't bothered him.
This song—no, this performance—wasn't supposed to be perfect from the start.
It had to feel uncertain, awkward, and unsteady.
Only then would the song feel real.
[I'm still afraid but I have a feeling]
He began to change, little by little.
His stiff shoulders relaxed, and his gaze no longer fell to the floor.
There was growing strength in the fingers plucking the guitar strings.
[that it will be a wonderful journey]
The boy smiled for the first time.
‘Looks like he's starting to get the hang of it.’
No. He was growing.
Right now, in front of the audience.
[I look forward to my tomorrow]
His once-trembling voice grew stronger.
Without realizing it, Jack P leaned forward.
[The size of my dream changes day by day]
The boy began to move with the rhythm. His body swayed to the song, and his voice grew louder.
[Watch over my song]
And there was a look on his face that said he'd begun to enjoy the stage.
‘Damn…….’
Jack P swallowed a quiet curse.
This kind of performance was dangerous.
It didn't overwhelm anyone with technique. And yet it somehow stirred their emotions.
At some point, everyone had stopped taking notes. It made them forget they were supposed to be judging.
[Look forward to my tomorrow]
His guitar strumming quickened. The boy's eyes came alive with it.
Even the camera operator instinctively zoomed in, wanting to capture that expression more closely.
[Come with me on my journey]
A high note rang out, clear and open.
‘Was he this good?’
At the interim evaluation, Jack P had been surprised by the boy's ‘composing skills.’ Now his vocals were beginning to linger in Jack P's ears.
[If you believe in me
I'll give it everything I have and shine]
These weren't merely song lyrics. They were a promise to the people who would one day become his fans.
Jack P suddenly understood.
The most formidable thing about the boy on this stage was neither his composing nor his voice.
It was that he made people want to root for him.
That was the greatest talent of all.
[I'll become the brightest star and run to you!]
The climax burst forth like a downpour.
It was almost as if a real meteor shower were falling onto the stage.
Because the beginning had been awkward, this moment shone all the brighter.
“Waaaa-”
The cheers everyone had held back erupted.
And at the center of it all, Yu Seong-woo smiled as he caught his breath. Jack P had never seen him smile so broadly that the cavern of his mouth showed. He let out a small sound of admiration without realizing it.
The lights caught his braces and made them sparkle at just the right moment.
“……Pfft.”
Even that was dazzlingly radiant.
***
At first, I'd planned to ‘pretend’ to be a little nervous. But the moment I stepped onstage, I realized.
‘Act? As if-’
Pretend to tremble and stumble so the audience would be drawn into the performance?
What a joke.
It was laughable that I'd practiced alone in front of a mirror.
THUD.
THUD.
THUD.
My heart pounded like crazy.
‘Wow, this is no joke-’
The fingertips gripping the guitar shook uncontrollably.
And why were there so many cameras?
To hell with finding the red light. It was a miracle I could even keep my eyes open.
[I used to look up to the shining stars]
The instant I sang the first line, I knew.
‘I'm fXcked…….’
Acting? I didn't have the luxury of any of that crap.
It felt as though I'd gone back to the days when my sister dragged me onstage. It was a wonder I wasn't crying now.
But when that memory came back, my breathing grew a little easier, strangely enough.
‘Right. I'll just show them everything.’
If I trembled, I trembled. If I was afraid, I was afraid.
There was no point ‘pretending.’
The third-grade Yu Seong-woo who'd managed to dance while bawling his eyes out and even struck the ending pose was still inside me.
The moment I decided that, my body gradually began to loosen up.
When I stopped forcing myself to find the camera, it followed me instead.
Then a sensation I'd never felt before swept through me.
‘Wow…….’
I thought I understood why idols were so obsessed with the stage.
The thrill of having every eye on me alone for a few minutes.
I'd never experience that anywhere but onstage.
When I came to my senses, Kang Se-jun was speaking.
“The way you gradually changed was impressive.”
The other judges nodded too.
The approach I'd planned had worked in the end.
‘Though I had no idea I'd be that nervous.’
I swallowed a hollow laugh.
“I thought the song was good at the interim evaluation too, but the finished version is much better.”
“Thank you!”
This time Park Jae-hun lifted his microphone.
“You sing a lot better than I expected.”
I was especially glad to hear that.
The truth was, being good at producing alone wouldn't get me into the debut lineup.
An idol was, ultimately, a performer onstage.
“You were very nervous at the start, weren't you?”
“……Yes.”
He chuckled.
“But-”
“That nervousness actually suited the song. So I can't really criticize it.”
“Thank you!”
“I think you have a natural instinct for the stage. I get the sense you've watched a lot of good performances too.”
‘An expert really is an expert.’
“I've always liked watching performances.”
“That's a good hobby.”
And finally, CEO Song In-hyeok lifted his microphone.
“I enjoyed your performance. It showed us who you are better than any other, in keeping with this mission's theme.”
His voice was calm. But what came next mattered.
“However.”
As expected, he wasn't finished.
“What the other judges praised today won't earn you praise after this performance.”
It sounded like a warning of sorts.
“You didn't dance at all this time. I assume that was deliberate?”
“Yes. I didn't think dancing was good enough to count as one of my strengths yet.”
The corners of Song In-hyeok's mouth lifted.
“A good decision. But from the next mission onward, you'll have to dance and sing.”
“Yes.”
“Then the inexperience you showed today will be a weakness rather than a strength.”
The pressure came at me head-on. Strangely, though, it felt exciting rather than frightening.
It had been like that when I was a producer too.
The thrill of overturning someone's doubts with my skill.
I knew that feeling very well. And it had been a long time since I'd felt my heart race like this.
“I'm looking forward to seeing trainee Yu Seong-woo as a more complete idol, too.”
Song In-hyeok closed his evaluation sheet.
Then he smiled, ever so faintly.
“I look forward to it.”
I tried to hold it back, but the corners of my mouth rose.
“Yes!”
I answered with a smile.
“Please look forward to it.”
As I returned to my seat, I felt heat against my back.
I glanced over my shoulder without thinking and saw the trainees looking at me.
Their eyes were nothing like they had been a moment ago.
They weren't looking at a newcomer, or at a trainee who'd gotten lucky once.
They were looking at a rival who might take a place in the debut lineup from them.