| Episode 120. Second Competition: Random Play Dance
The next day, Jeong Seongbin really did bring a giant trash bag stuffed full of white and beige dress shirts.
Looking at the blue bag that seemed about to burst, I suspected Jeong Seongbin had cleaned out every family member’s closet at home.
“Is Mr. Jeong Seongjun’s dream for the future to become a wholesaler, by any chance?”
“No need to wait for the future. He could open an online store right now.”
Jeong Seongbin shrugged.
Normally, Jeong Seongbin spoke rather gently compared to others his age.
But he had no mercy when it came to his younger brother. He even sighed, saying, “How does he have this many clothes with the tags still on them……”
Still, perhaps he had some last shred of conscience left, because Jeong Seongbin made it clear that this was not looting but borrowing, saying he had gotten his brother’s permission.
Thanks to that, I was able to prepare all the costumes and props without any additional spending.
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[SYSTEM] A work order from the “person in charge” has arrived.
▶ Wow, Assistant Manager Kim, you’re competent. The others must have nothing left to do. I wonder how the company would run without our Assistant Manager Kim.
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The system must have found that irritating too, because it pulled some XX.
But the system’s sarcasm was none of my business. If you’re not going to help, then get lost. Please.
* * *
A-Wang-Sil’s additional filming did not end with the meeting scene.
‘A surprise mission?’
‘Yeah. They said they’re deciding the order for the second competition stage with a random play dance.’
How utterly appalled I’d been at the news our manager suddenly brought us.
I already knew that A-Wang-Sil had suddenly risen in popularity after other audition programs blew up, but I hadn’t expected them to try to increase screen time in such a reckless way.
If it was an interim mission, then give us enough time so it wouldn’t interfere with stage preparations.
If they were going to decide the stage order, then adjust the schedule and film it right before the second competition!
My stomach burned at the thought of being dragged out when we didn’t even have enough time to prepare for the competition and having to show off some half-baked dancing.
If they announce A-Wang-Sil Season 2, I’m going to post on the viewer board telling them to plan the concept in advance. I swear.
To begin with, I don’t think that “random play dance” thing is something just anyone can do. There are so many K-pop songs, how are you supposed to learn and dance all those choreographies?
But this is South Korea, a place where the incompetent do not survive.
Thinking of the dance proficiency I’d diligently raised during my OJT period, I clenched my fist.
If I wanted to survive in an industry where the average level had been raised so high, this was the moment to steel my resolve. Hadn’t I even received special training from Kang Giyeon during vacation in preparation for this?
And making that firm resolution look ridiculous, I waved the white flag after only two songs. I guess because I raised my proficiency with a cheat key, it had turned into a hollow stat.
Worried my fatigue might rise again at this rate, I promptly lay flat on the floor.
“My head feels like it’s going to explode.”
“Aren’t you trying too hard to dance with your head?”
Kang Giyeon said, looking down at me with his arms crossed.
“If I don’t understand it, my body won’t move, so I can’t help it. They say when your body is bad, your head suffers.”
“Your body isn’t bad. Your sense is bad, hyung.”
“You’re the worst.”
Even though he talked like that, Kang Giyeon helped me both materially and emotionally for the random play dance filming.
However, this method was inefficient.
If they were gathering all the cast members and holding a random play dance to decide the order, then it would be normal to have the last person standing choose their desired order first.
In Spark, we had me, who could quickly narrow down the variety shows A-Wang-Sil was likely referencing; Jeong Seongbin, who could list up the songs I found in real time; and Kang Giyeon, a practice maniac who had probably danced all of those choreographies at least once.
With this combination, we could produce the last person standing. With a very high probability.
But we couldn’t be satisfied with that. Taking first place on a music show wasn’t easy, after all.
I looked up at Kang Giyeon while lying still.
“Giyeon.”
“What is it?”
“I just received an incredible revelation.”
“If you’re going to say something weird, get up.”
He’s not falling for it. Jeong Seongbin would’ve gone along with it if I did this.
Anyway, he told me to get up, so I got up. I was still going to say something weird, though.
I placed both hands on Kang Giyeon’s shoulders and said,
“If we secure the very last order this time, we can get first place again.”
“What are you talking about all of a sudden?”
“I’m saying we have to win first place in the random play dance no matter what and secure the sixth slot.”
“……?”
“And I believe you can do it.”
Our Kang Giyeon, you know, dances incredibly well.
Let’s shoulder this heavy responsibility, go in, and sweep them all away.
* * *
Right after debut, Spark’s recognition was largely split between Choi Jeho and Lee Cheonghyeon.
Choi Jeho, who had debuted first through that bastard Jang Junhu’s music video and had an overwhelming presence as the center, and Lee Cheonghyeon, who caused a stir on their first music show with his face alone.
Most conversations related to Spark began with those two.
Next came Park Juu.
Park Juu’s vocals drew attention anywhere.
His tone, technique, high notes, stability—everything. It was only natural that the highlight parts went to a guy who debuted with vocals that were already complete, and videos of him pulling them off live circulated under titles like “Typical Rookie Boy Idol Skill.”
As for Jeong Seongbin, since he was the leader, he had many chances to speak in official settings.
I went on radio and showed off shocking fashion or put on a booze-guzzling hippo show.
Then what about Kang Giyeon?
He was the team’s main dancer, but his impact fell short of Choi Jeho’s dance break, and his rap only came in when he doubled with Lee Cheonghyeon.
His vocal skills were decent, but unfortunately, because the nobody Kim Iwol joined, his parts decreased a little.
In short, the current Kang Giyeon had the most ambiguous position in Spark.
Those who recognized promising sprouts quickly latched onto Kang Giyeon, but the speed of other inflows was slow. Even in the past, Kang Giyeon was not the type to see the light quickly.
On top of that, Kang Giyeon still had some camera anxiety left.
He pretended otherwise, but ever since his voice cracked once during a music show rehearsal, he had become a little more sensitive.
In this situation, appearing on a survival program—how much that bastard’s mentality must have been ground down was obvious without even looking.
Here, force-feeding him screen time to open the door for people to become his fans would be like poison.
But if it was dancing, things might be different.
‘If Seongbin hyung is a music vending machine, then Kang-Gyeon is a dance vending machine.’
‘True. Doesn’t Giyeon know pretty much every title track choreography?’
‘I learn new choreographies almost every day. If it was performed on a music show, I can dance it. Probably.’
‘I feel like you could dance even if music started playing while you were asleep.’
‘That’s right.’
If what Kang Giyeon had once said like a joke was true.
‘Once I learn something with my body, I usually don’t forget it.’
Even if he got nervous and his mind went blank, the amount of practice he had put in would help him reflexively.
Hoping that his efforts would repay their owner, I worked with Jeong Seongbin to put together a crash course called “If You Know Only This, You Too Can Be the RPD King!” and grilled Kang Giyeon relentlessly.
Since Kang Giyeon already knew all the choreographies, it ultimately had no meaning, but Kang Giyeon replied that he could tell his hyungs were serious and that he would do his best.
* * *
On the day of the additional filming, we matched in thin sweatshirts and pants as a set.
They were from the brand that had appeared exactly once in Spark’s dance practice video and received an explosive response from the fans.
‘Why does it have to be this brand, of all things?’
‘You have to wear clothes from here for your lines to look good when you dance.’
These bastards had never worn those clothes again.
But Sparklers, rejoice. I have fulfilled your wish.
‘Hyung, you look better in formal styles than casual ones…… Won’t it be a little disappointing?’
Park Juu did raise an objection before payment. However, I did not reflect it.
“Iwol, you’re out!”
Because I’d expected to be fated to drop out from the very first song. It was choreography I had seen while preparing “If You Know Only This, You Too Can Be the RPD King!”, but I danced in the exact opposite direction and was the only one eliminated.
If I was going to be instantly eliminated anyway, what was the point of wearing clothes that suited me? The guys who were good at dancing just needed to look pretty.
Yur launched an interview at me, the contestant eliminated in first place that day. I said I would trust only my members and shouted “Fighting!” to them.
To the point that my elimination at the speed of light felt meaningless, the remaining contestants showed tremendous skill.
It was thanks to the challenge craze, which meant everyone knew most songs. Groups specialized in performance even matched formations for a few songs.
Aside from a few people like me whose trainee periods were especially short dropping out, eliminations did not come easily.
Spark, too, impressively had all five members survive. As expected, you shine brightest when there are five of you.
I was earnestly praying for the revival of the five-member group Spark and for some distance to be kept, when Yur intervened.
Since no one was being eliminated and the progress was slow, they decided to drastically raise the difficulty.
From this point on, eliminations occurred like leaves swept away by an autumn wind.
When they greatly expanded the release period, the younger idols began to fall one by one. Among them, only Kang Giyeon, who had received a special lecture from veteran Jeong Seongbin, survived.
As the number of people decreased, Kang Giyeon’s true worth also began to show.
The guy who had been dancing in the very back row with the solitude of the crowd began to come forward little by little as the people in front of him dropped out.
There was no need to wait until he reached the very front. For Kang Giyeon, just one or two steps were enough.
“Giyeon-nim dances incredibly well, doesn’t he?”
Whether there was someone in front of him or he was at the end of the formation.
Once Kang Giyeon caught the eye, he had the skill to keep drawing attention.
If Choi Jeho competed with the lines of his dancing, Kang Giyeon’s strength lay in his control of dynamics.
That wonderful strength did not show well on music shows. Because the camera didn’t stay fixed on Kang Giyeon alone enough to capture the changing emphasis depending on the movement.
Instead, Kang Giyeon’s true value showed in fancams.
If you followed Kang Giyeon with your eyes, you could see how accurately he danced each move, where he applied strength, and how sharply he rode the beat.
In a situation like this, where everyone was watching the accuracy of the movements in order to find the person who made a mistake, there would be no one who surpassed Kang Giyeon.
Even if the people around him dwindled little by little, even if more and more people were watching him……
Just like when he practiced alone in an empty practice room, all he had to do was dance what his body had learned according to what he heard.
“Giyeon’s good.”
I muttered while watching Kang Giyeon face off against Berion for the position of the final survivor.
Choi Jeho, the freshly eliminated contestant sitting beside me, replied,
“Well, it’s him.”
Right. What was there to say about your youngest being good?
With Choi Jeho’s trust at his back, Kang Giyeon really did seize first place.
Standing in front of the order chart, the guy called out with a calm face, though he couldn’t hide his slightly flushed ears, “Hyung! I just have to choose sixth, right?”
I smiled and nodded.