Episode 117. Round 1: Competitive PT (2)
Have you ever considered how it feels to be an audience member who has to stand and watch stages for hours on end?
And all to see a group that either performs just once if they're your favorite, or one you're merely "interested in" at best.
That's true for any show, but attending a music program recording is never easy. Even more so for a survival program.
Not knowing when your kids will appear, having to endlessly watch strangers belt out songs you've never heard before.
In times like these, what the audience needs most is a kind introduction.
There needs to be a baseline understanding: we are a group with this color, and this is the song we will be singing.
Like businessmen exchanging business cards at a meeting.
In that sense, Parte's stage was inhospitable.
Who outside of Parte's own fandom knows that Parte uses mythology as a motif?
If you put on such a conceptual performance in that state?
When it fails to arouse unfamiliar yet fresh interest.
People call that "alienating." Parte's stage this time was exactly that.
Watching it on broadcast will probably look better. The cameras will capture good angles, and the stage effects will be highlighted nicely.
But the live venue is a different story. They'd prepared the stage assuming conditions like a music video set where everything is provided, so it was bound to creak and groan. At this stage, with no broadcast voting, that's a painful mistake.
'The song was crude, too.'
I understand not wanting to lose that aspect, since the track's charm lies in evoking a theme park festival.
They must have been conscious of the criticism they'd get for changing the lyrics too much.
But isn't arrangement about giving something a new twist?
If they'd wanted to infuse the image of longing into the mysterious space of a temple, simply swapping in a music-box sound would have produced a good enough effect.
In a music competition program, a mediocre song is fatal. Because nothing remains in your head when it's time to vote. I imagine the MYTH A&R team will need to do some serious soul-searching before the next stage.
Then what should Spark do, with even less recognition than Parte?
There is only one answer.
Lower the entry barrier of the concept as much as possible. With intuitive items.
"Spark, time to head to standby!"
Leaving Parte's interview behind, I exited the waiting room with five one-day volleyball players.
* * *
My legs hurt.
Baek Haewon carefully rotated her ankle.
She had no idea how many hours she'd been standing without a single stretch.
She wanted to check the time, but she wasn't even allowed to take out her phone, so it was impossible.
When she'd won the audience lottery, she'd thought it was a gift to herself for finishing her exams. Now it felt more like punishment for a bad student who'd failed them.
Spark, Baek Haewon's babies, were still nowhere to be seen.
She'd tried to enjoy the early performances, but it was no easy feat. Human stamina is finite, after all. There hadn't been a single stage worth cheering for, either.
At this rate, she wouldn't even be able to cheer when her own kids came out.
Baek Haewon truly thought so. Standing in the narrow, dark seats, she grew more exhausted by the minute.
By around the three thousandth time Baek Haewon muttered, "Ah, the people watching from home are the winners..."
"They're finally here! The maknaes who are like a shot of vitality for Idol Wangjosillok!"
MC Yureu of Ahwangsil—who had been mostly inactive during Baek Haewon's stanning days, thus falling off her radar, but whom she would have passionately stanned at least once had their eras overlapped—delivered the long-awaited line.
He's handsome and good at hosting, too. I love you.
"Please welcome Spark with a round of applause!"
Baek Haewon clapped until her palms stung, waiting in the darkness for Spark to walk out.
And the moment the members revealed themselves one by one, she gripped her collar.
'F***ing handsome, f***ing...!'
The audience attendance was indeed a gift from the heavens. Baek Haewon barely swallowed the uncivilized scream threatening to burst from her throat.
Leading the way was Jeong Seongbin, wearing a white volleyball uniform. A mint-striped headband of the same color suited him staggeringly well.
From his hairline to his forehead and nose bridge, there wasn't a single thing that wasn't refreshing.
Who told him to go blonde and expose his forehead? He had no right to complain if he got sued.
Next, Gang Giyeon and I Cheonghyeon came out in turn. Gang Giyeon wore mint, and I Cheonghyeon wore white.
Gang Giyeon had white knee pads on both knees, while I Cheonghyeon sported long sleeves on both arms.
Then, Gim Iwol and Choe Jeho, wearing wrist guards, appeared.
Seeing those two, exactly one phrase came to Baek Haewon's mind.
'Wow, freaking tall.'
They say average heights keep rising, but Spark was really tall. The hyung line's average was 185 cm.
But there was a difference between seeing the numbers and going, "What? Our kids are a tall group? Freaking awesome!" and actually seeing the tall people in person.
Moreover, Choe Jeho was the tallest on this team. The two telephone pole-like men in uniforms were even slightly intimidating.
'And f***ing handsome.......'
Seeing Gim Iwol look this way and smile softly, Baek Haewon muttered as if leaving a last will.
A face where distinct features cast gray-tinged shadows over skin so pale it seemed blue, making the three-dimensionality stand out.
From eyebrow line to nose bridge to jawline, nothing lacked sharpness, yet when he looked at fans with those big eyes and smiled gently, it drove people insane.
She'd lost count of how many times she'd posted on social media that she wanted to be covered by the shadows beneath Gim Iwol's long eyelashes and sleep forever.
That person really went to school with my mom's son. The world sure is a strange place.
But as a seasoned otaku, she avoided the delusion that "Iwol smiled at me!"
Finally, Bak Juu, wearing a mint uniform and knee-high socks, lined up to complete the formation.
The blessing of handsomeness was endless. Even the well-toned arm muscles visible beneath his short sleeves were perfect. Spark's real-life visuals shone like diamonds.
Baek Haewon felt all her hardships wash away. Her vocabulary seemed to be regressing, but she didn't care.
She watched Spark give their interview, bathed in happiness, but then a question arose.
'Aren't they covering a Parte song?'
Just now, Parte had put on a very gorgeous stage. Their fans over there seemed to enjoy it, but Baek Haewon, who didn't know Parte's worldview well, had simply thought, "Cool~" and left it at that. It was a bit too abstruse for her to fully grasp.
She figured that if the goal was to color it with their own style, it wasn't bad, but whether it would suit the splendid music Parte had showcased was uncertain.
However, Baek Haewon didn't think too deeply about it.
'Dunno, if anything, Juu will tear it up!'
The trust that came from skills proven through two promotions and countless self-produced contents. That was what Baek Haewon had.
With nothing but the hope that they would do well on stage, she watched the members finish their interview, shout "fighting" while forming a circle on stage, and take their positions.
* * *
Pin spotlights fell onto the darkened stage.
Between the members facing off in a 3:3 formation matching their uniform colors, a whistle rang out and the song began.
The intro started as an exchange between me and Choe Jeho.
'O, you
What do you desire?'
'If you ask, just one thing,
Glory like no other.'
The stage concept was extremely simple.
A grand clash between the mint team of me, Bak Juu, and Gang Giyeon, and the white team of Choe Jeho, Jeong Seongbin, and I Cheonghyeon!
Just from the colors and opening formation, the audience could understand this stage's setting. That alone was half the battle.
Adding to that were light but precise choreography, foot stomps that sounded crisper live, and the friction of high-fives adding vitality.
'Yearn and desire
Until it is in your hands!'
The conceptual lyrics were made to be interpreted differently depending on the situation. At the same time, their purpose was made crystal clear.
So that you thought, 'Ah, these guys are doing this to win!'
Where understanding accompanies, acceptance comes quickly.
The move where Gang Giyeon and Jeong Seongbin slammed their backs together evoked a battle of wills between teams; I Cheonghyeon's hand-kiss gesture recalled a scoring ceremony.
Choreography that might be glossed over at first glance looked different to an eye that knew the context.
So that one song looked like a single match.
That's how I made it. Because there are no replays in live voting.
And the final tactic to capture the live reaction.
Pouring everything into the song.
As the third verse began, the music reached its peak.
Mixing in applause and cheers befitting a final match, increasing the bass until it felt like heartbeats thundering.
'Can you hear
The revelation and the earnest wish?'
Gang Giyeon laid down the note. Over it, I layered my voice.
'O, you
Do you desire the throne?'
As the notes climbed, instruments and effects built into a festival atmosphere. The piercing sensation unique to metallic instruments and electronic sounds evoking heat swirled together dizzyingly.
'My answer is only,
Unchanging as ever.'
Next, Jeong Seongbin charged to the center of the stage.
Right now, the audience was probably facing Jeong Seongbin's overflowing expression, and the voice brimming with that emotion, dead on.
And as the music reached its climax.
Bak Juu, his aggression dialed to the maximum, stepped to the front.
'I shall seize
Honor.'
A spear-like high note pierced through the speakers.
Then again, was this even something to call a tactic?
If you want to score points with your stage, obviously you have to sing well.
More than anything, what makes sports fun is......
'The future I dreamed of!'
......that they make people go wild. In an instant.
With the sound of shoe soles scraping against the gymnasium floor, the stage of diligent, thrifty sportsmanship came to an end.
Sweat mixed with exhilaration dripped onto the stage. Real applause—not the kind inserted during arrangement—filled the venue.
* * *
The live vote announcement was quiet. It was hard to believe it was the same place where the audience had been just moments ago.
We had to stand huddled on stage until Yureu arrived.
Everyone's breath was rough, but their faces alone were gleaming. They all seemed to have dutifully gotten touch-up makeup. We'd powdered ourselves so heavily to hide our sweat that I didn't know how much we'd used.
I'd taken the gap before the cameras rolled to fix Jeong Seongbin's bangs so his forehead would look prettier, when someone approached us.
"Um, hello!"
It was Mun Yeongyu, leader of Berion. His stage name was Onha.
Naturally, since they were our seniors, we all bowed at a perfect 90 degrees.
Mr. Onha was greatly flustered and stopped us, saying we didn't need to go that far. Then he smiled awkwardly and said.
"Spark, you all performed so well. I wanted to come tell you I really enjoyed your stage......"
"Really? Thank you, sunbaenim!"
Jeong Seongbin said, taking Mr. Onha's outstretched right hand.
"We really enjoyed your stage too, sunbaenim. It was amazing!"
I added a word from beside Jeong Seongbin. Mr. Onha looked embarrassed, then quickly returned to Berion's seats, saying he'd see us at the next broadcast.
Unexpected. I'd thought there wasn't a single group that wanted to get close to Spark.
Or was it because Spark had given bonus points only to Berion?
Could someone really approach us so readily just for something like that? Come to think of it, that Onha person seemed to be only twenty years old.
You could be gravely deceived if you judged people based on fragmented impressions.
I hoped that the storms of the world wouldn't beat down too hard on Berion.
And at the perfect moment, Mr. Yureu entered holding a ranking chart more vicious than any storm the world could brew.