Jiwon woke up before his alarm.
Which was annoying.
Because it meant he was nervous.
Very nervous.
For several seconds, he simply stared at the ceiling.
Today was the final evaluation.
The last performance.
The last day of Team 17.
A familiar knot settled in his stomach.
Excitement.
Fear.
Anticipation.
Probably all three.
Eventually, he sat up.
Then his eyes drifted toward the mirror across the room.
And froze.
“…”
Right.
The hair.
For a brief moment, he’d forgotten.
The red color immediately caught the morning sunlight.
Still strange.
Still unfamiliar.
Still significantly redder than any reasonable person would’ve chosen.
Jiwon stared at his reflection.
The stylist had been right.
Hyunwoo had been right.
Even Doyoung had been right.
It worked.
Which somehow felt more embarrassing than if it had looked terrible.
A voice echoed from downstairs.
“Jiwon!
Breakfast!”
His mother’s voice.
The spell broke immediately.
“Coming.”
One last glance at the mirror.
I’m still not used to it.
Then he headed downstairs.
The smell reached him before the kitchen did.
His mother was already setting plates on the table.
His father was reading something on his phone.
At least until Jiwon entered.
Then his father looked up.
And stopped.
“…”
“…”
“…”
Jiwon sighed.
“Please don’t.”
“What?”
“You made the exact same face as everyone else.”
His father studied him for another second.
Then nodded.
“I like it.”
Jiwon blinked.
“Really?”
“It suits you.”
A pause.
Then:
“You look older.”
His mother immediately pointed.
“That’s exactly what I said.”
Jiwon’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“I’m eighteen.”
“Now you look eighteen.”
“Mom.”
“Maybe nineteen.”
“Mom.”
Before she could continue—
The doorbell rang.
Once.
Then immediately again.
Then a third time.
The entire family fell silent.
“…”
“…”
“…”
Jiwon sighed.
“That’s Minjae.”
Nobody asked how he knew.
Because nobody needed to.
Several seconds later, the front door opened.
Then footsteps.
Then more footsteps.
Then somehow even more footsteps.
“Good morning!”
The noise arrived before Minjae did.
Naturally.
The basketball player entered the kitchen.
Took one look at Jiwon.
And froze.
“…”
“…”
“…”
His mother immediately smiled.
“See?”
“What?”
“Exactly the same face.”
Minjae slowly pointed.
Directly at Jiwon’s head.
“No.”
“What?”
“No.”
“That’s not a sentence.”
“It is in my heart.”
Jiwon immediately regretted introducing him to Minseok.
The corruption had clearly spread.
Minjae walked closer.
Studying the red hair from every possible angle.
“You copied me.”
“I didn’t.”
“You copied me.”
“I did not.”
The athlete placed a hand over his chest.
“My brand.”
“You play basketball.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s not a brand.”
“It absolutely is.”
A pause.
Then Minjae’s expression shifted slightly.
“Huh.”
Jiwon immediately became suspicious.
“What?”
“…It actually works.”
His father nodded.
“See?”
Now there were two of them.
Wonderful.
Minjae sat down at the table.
Without being invited.
A skill he had perfected years ago.
Somehow he was eating breakfast with Jiwon’s family less than two minutes later.
Like he lived there.
For several minutes the conversation drifted between school, basketball, the evaluation and everything in between.
Then eventually—
The clock reminded everyone of reality.
Time to leave.
Jiwon grabbed his bag.
Checked his phone.
Then checked it again.
The nervous feeling returned immediately.
The final evaluation.
Today it was real.
No more practice.
No more preparation.
No more second chances.
As if sensing it, Minjae nudged his shoulder while they walked.
“You nervous?”
“A little.”
The basketball player snorted.
“Liar.”
“What?”
“You’re terrified.”
“…”
“…”
“Your hand keeps moving.”
Jiwon looked down.
His fingers were tapping against the strap of his bag.
Again.
And again.
Without him noticing.
“…Oh.”
“See?”
The grin returned.
Then unexpectedly softened.
Just a little.
“You’ll be fine.”
The words were simple.
Casual.
Yet somehow they landed harder than expected.
Jiwon looked over.
Minjae shrugged.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’ve been preparing for weeks.”
Another shrug.
“You’ll do great.”
For once—
There was no joke attached.
No teasing.
No exaggeration.
Just honesty.
And somehow that made it more embarrassing.
━━━━━━━━━━━━
By the time the evaluation hall came into view, the streets were already crowded.
Contestants.
Staff.
Managers.
Parents.
Everyone moving somewhere.
Fast.
The atmosphere felt different.
Less like practice.
More like the real thing.
Jiwon’s eyes drifted toward the entrance.
Then stopped.
Several trainees were entering the building.
Among them—
A familiar face.
Long dark hair.
Sharp features.
An athletic build.
The girl from the train.
For a brief moment he thought he might be mistaken.
Then he spotted the oversized duffel bag.
Definitely her.
She was laughing about something one of her teammates had said.
One of five girls.
A complete team.
So she really was part of the program.
Interesting.
The thought lingered for only a second.
Today, there were bigger things to think about.
Beside him, Minjae followed his gaze.
Then frowned.
“The competition?”
Jiwon snorted.
“Please stop talking like an anime rival.”
“I absolutely am an anime rival.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Emotionally.”
Before Jiwon could respond, a staff member called his name.
It was time.
The knot in his stomach tightened.
Minjae noticed.
Of course he did.
The basketball player stepped back.
Then raised a fist.
“Go win.”
“What if we don’t?”
Minjae looked genuinely confused.
“Then win anyway.”
“…That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does in my heart.”
Jiwon laughed despite himself.
Then turned toward the entrance.
Behind him—
“TEAM 17!”
Several people looked over.
Immediately.
Jiwon nearly died.
“What are you doing?”
“Support!”
“STOP.”
“WIN!”
“STOP.”
Unfortunately.
Minjae looked incredibly proud of himself.
As expected.
Shaking his head, Jiwon stepped through the doors.
And into the final day of Team 17.
━━━━━━━━━━━━
The moment Jiwon stepped inside, the atmosphere changed.
The noise from outside disappeared.
Replaced by a different kind of chaos.
Staff members hurried through narrow hallways.
Contestants moved from room to room carrying garment bags and makeup kits.
Cables ran along the floor.
Two cameramen pushed equipment carts past him.
A producer hurried by with a headset pressed against one ear.
“Team Seven, standby.”
“Camera three, move to the left.”
“We need replacement batteries backstage.”
“Where are the wireless microphones?”
The voices overlapped constantly.
Nobody stopped moving.
The entire building felt alive.
Jiwon tightened his grip on his bag.
For some reason—
The evaluation had suddenly become much more real.
A familiar voice reached him before he saw the person attached to it.
“You’re late.”
“I’m three minutes early.”
Jaehyun appeared around the corner.
“Exactly.”
“…”
“…”
“I hate talking to you.”
“No you don’t.”
Unfortunately.
That was becoming true.
The leader nodded toward a nearby door.
“Everyone’s inside.”
Jiwon followed him.
The moment he entered—
Four heads turned toward him.
Then immediately froze.
Silence.
Minseok pointed first.
Naturally.
“No.”
Jiwon sighed.
“What now?”
The dancer pointed at his hair.
“No.”
“That still doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means you look like the protagonist now.”
“…”
“…”
“Which is terrible news for the rest of us.”
Across the room, Hyunwoo glanced up.
Took one look.
Then nodded.
“Much better.”
Minseok looked personally offended.
“Can you stop agreeing with my enemies?”
“No.”
“Traitor.”
Doyoung didn’t even look up from the stack of papers in his hands.
“The red improves visual recognition.”
Silence.
Jiwon blinked.
“What?”
The analyst adjusted his glasses.
“Statistically.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“Sometimes I forget we’re friends.”
“We aren’t.”
Fair.
A staff member pushed the door open.
“We’ll start filming in ten minutes.”
Immediately, the atmosphere shifted.
The jokes faded.
Not completely.
Just enough.
Everyone’s attention moved to the large monitor hanging from the wall.
A live feed from the stage.
The evaluation was beginning.
The first team entered.
Five boys.
Clean performance.
Strong vocals.
A few mistakes.
Nothing disastrous.
The second team followed.
Then another.
Then another.
Some performances stood out.
Others blended together.
Nobody spoke much.
They were too busy watching.
Studying.
Learning.
Then the feed changed.
Five girls walked onto the stage.
Different concept.
Different styling.
Different energy.
Jiwon’s attention drifted lazily toward the monitor.
Until—
He sat up.
“…”
The girl from the train.
There was no mistake.
The long ponytail.
The sharp features.
The same calm expression.
She stood slightly off-center in the formation.
Yet somehow—
She immediately drew the eye.
The team wore coordinated white and navy outfits.
Pleated skirts.
Cropped jackets.
Silver accessories catching the stage lights whenever they moved.
Bright.
Clean.
Youthful.
The kind of styling designed to look effortless.
The music started.
LOVE DIVE.
The opening formation spread across the stage.
The choreography flowed smoothly.
Elegant arm movements.
Controlled turns.
Sharp transitions.
Nothing wasted.
Nothing exaggerated.
The girl from the train moved with the others.
Yet for some reason—
Jiwon’s eyes kept returning to her.
A step forward.
A subtle glance toward the camera.
A single turn.
Then she disappeared back into formation.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing flashy.
Yet every movement seemed to last slightly longer in memory.
As if the camera preferred her.
Or perhaps—
As if she understood exactly where the camera would be before it arrived.
The first chorus arrived.
The formation opened.
The girls moved outward.
The choreography expanded.
Precise.
Confident.
A mix of graceful lines and sharp accents matching the beat.
One member sang.
Another moved into center.
Then the train girl stepped forward.
The transition lasted less than a second.
Somehow it felt longer.
A simple movement.
Nothing technically difficult.
Yet the entire performance immediately felt different.
Minseok stopped talking.
Hyunwoo put away his phone.
Even Doyoung looked up from his papers.
Which probably meant something.
The room remained silent for several seconds.
Then—
“That center is good.”
Jaehyun said.
Simple.
Direct.
Coming from Jaehyun, that was practically a standing ovation.
Minseok pointed at the monitor.
“Good?”
“That’s your description?”
“What would you call it?”
The dancer thought for a moment.
Then pointed again.
“Annoying.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“That’s actually fair.”
Jiwon admitted.
The performance continued.
The girl moved back into formation.
Yet somehow she never completely disappeared.
Doyoung adjusted his glasses.
“Her gaze control is excellent.”
Nobody looked surprised.
Because of course Doyoung would analyze eye contact.
“What does that even mean?”
Minseok asked.
“She knows where the camera is.”
A pause.
“At all times.”
Hyunwoo nodded.
“Yeah.”
Jiwon immediately looked at him.
The silver-haired trainee kept his eyes on the screen.
“For most people, the camera follows the performance.”
Another pause.
“For her, the performance follows the camera.”
The room fell quiet.
Because everyone understood exactly what he meant.
The chorus ended.
The formations shifted again.
The girl crossed from one side of the stage to the other.
Nothing particularly flashy happened.
Yet somehow—
Your eyes followed her anyway.
Minseok leaned forward.
“I hate that.”
“What?”
Jaehyun asked.
“I know she’s not doing anything impossible.”
The dancer pointed helplessly at the monitor.
“But I keep looking at her.”
A short silence followed.
Then Jiwon quietly spoke.
“…Same.”
For a moment—
Nobody laughed.
Because everyone in the room felt the same thing.
The performance ended.
The final pose settled.
Applause filled the auditorium.
Even through the monitor speakers, it sounded loud.
The girls bowed.
Then exited the stage.
The silence inside Team 17’s room lasted a few seconds longer than before.
Then Minseok sighed.
“…Okay.”
“What?”
Jaehyun asked.
The dancer pointed at the screen.
“I definitely hate them.”
“As expected.”
Jaehyun replied.
Unfortunately.
Nobody completely disagreed.
Because for the first time that day—
The final evaluation felt very, very real.