| Episode 129. The Third Contest (2)
Lee Cheonghyeon’s rap style was exactly what you’d call K-pop.
No profanity, no rough or jarring tones—just the feeling of briefly coming in and slipping back out when the song varied.
Rather than strongly showing off his presence, he pursued blending naturally with the music.
At least, the Lee Cheonghyeon I knew had never rapped in any style other than that.
Unlike other rapper idols, he had never released a mixtape or tried any particularly different style.
And that Lee Cheonghyeon was going to rap in an all-black slim-fit jumpsuit, wearing a harness and even a muzzle?
Honestly, I couldn’t imagine it. If anything, I was worried he might be doing some off-putting concept an idol should never attempt.
‘Did I pay too little attention because he’s good at everything?’
I couldn’t exactly drag someone down once he’d already gone onstage. My worries deepened.
Lee Cheonghyeon’s words, that he would go tear up the stage, kept echoing in my ears like a last will.
Leaving me to stew in anxiety, the stage mercilessly began.
Red smoke rose from the black electronic screen.
At the very front of the stage, Lee Cheonghyeon crawled up from the floor, his red eyes gleaming as he jerked his head up.
『Can you hear it? The sound of me barking
Bowwow, wow!』
The moment I heard the first line, I realized the concept of this stage.
Cerberus.
The three-headed watchdog that guarded the gates of the underworld ruled by Hades.
‘Did he seriously choose Cerberus, the three-headed dog, because there are three of them right now?’
I wasn’t sure whether to call this simple or intuitive. More importantly, this wasn’t tearing up the stage—it was barking onstage.
『I only aim for one guy
’Cause I’m one of a kind
What can I do when I was born this way』
Compared to the impact of the external performance, the lyrics, though a little mad, seemed like the kind of rap lyrics you often heard.
『Give up and change your mind
Escape? Fuck that
That’s just how this game is』
……No, wait, that is pretty strong.
If they’d given this part to Lee Cheonghyeon, a minor, I would have stormed the stage on live broadcast or whatever and sprawled out right there.
Then I would’ve screamed at them to do the stage over my dead body. Thankfully, no such disaster had to occur.
The bigger problem was that the overlapping concept, and those simple yet direct lyrics…… were strangely pointing to one specific target.
An animal from Greek mythology of all things, and lyrics saying he’d only take down one guy.
No matter who looked at it, wasn’t he saying he’d bite only the Parthene team to shreds?
On top of that, there were two opposing teams, but he was only targeting one?
Put another way, it could also be interpreted as saying he didn’t even have the remaining team in mind. The legendary killing two birds with one stone was unfolding right before my eyes.
Was this the world of rap? Was this what competition…… was?
Lost in the world of hip-hop I had entered for the first time, I wandered without knowing what to do.
Leaving me in chaos, Lee Cheonghyeon ripped off his muzzle and threw it aside.
『Run your mouth with a mouth, not a snout
The only one who can bark is me
The dog talk belongs to me
Don’t covet the stage
The only one who can tear it up is me
Wowed everyone!』
Rap poured quickly and clearly from the speakers mounted on the wall.
As we froze at Lee Cheonghyeon’s shocking transformation, cheers erupted from the waiting rooms on both sides.
Someone in the next waiting room kept shouting, “He tore it up!”
It did seem like Lee Cheonghyeon had torn something up. Not the stage, but a whole sack of Cheongyang chili peppers.
My ears were burning. For the first time since becoming an idol, I was afraid of monitoring the performance.
* * *
“How was I?!”
“I thought you were native-born to the underworld.”
“Kuh!”
Lee Cheonghyeon was deeply moved by my words.
“You were seriously cool, Cheonghyeon. I was really surprised.”
Jeong Seongbin also smiled and heaped praise on him.
That was how compliments were supposed to be done. I should watch and learn.
As if he felt extremely relieved, Lee Cheonghyeon even went around hugging the members.
His body was burning hot. Endorphins must have been surging through him.
In contrast, Choi Jeho, who was gradually getting ready to go out, had an expression that was nothing if not chilly.
Maybe because I’d threatened to make him sleep by the front door if he didn’t smile when the cameras were on, his eyes looked somewhat alive, but after watching that guy for years, I could tell.
That little shit wants to go back to the dorm more than anyone right now.
For a guy who usually didn’t care much about what stage he was on, that was saying something.
I started looking forward, in the opposite sense, to just what kind of incredible show Allover would put on.
* * *
Choi Jeho’s unit was up second.
It was after Sticky and Parte had shown a sticky pair dance performance and gotten a good response.
If the previous stage had drawn attention in the beginning with a small number of original members, then shown an impressive group dance with a huge number of backup dancers in the latter half, Choi Jeho’s team chose to fill the stage solely with members.
And this was by no means a good choice.
There was no need to watch to the end or anything. The balance was a mess.
Even within Spark, Choi Jeho was famous for grabbing your gaze the moment he received attention and not letting go until the stage ended.
What happened when you put someone like that beside people who couldn’t even carry their own weight?
There was only one answer. People would only see Choi Jeho.
Even I, who was utterly ignorant when it came to dance, could understand the comments saying Choi Jeho’s control of strength and restraint was incredible.
But if this guy monopolized attention even when he moved to the side and eased up, how was the stage supposed to come into view as a whole?
When Choi Jeho said he would just do his own part well, I had somewhat expected things to turn out this way.
‘Still, this is bad…….’
The atmosphere Lee Cheonghyeon had raised to its peak sank uncontrollably.
The Spark guys probably knew Choi Jeho’s skills well, so this situation must have felt even more regrettable to them.
Fortunately, after finishing a stage that had no balance whatsoever, Choi Jeho returned with a refreshed expression.
It was awful working together, right? Rest easy, you’ll never have to see them again.
* * *
“Whoa, I think my voice is going to go hoarse……!”
“Drink some water, Cheonghyeon.”
As the recording dragged on, voices began to go hoarse one by one. Lee Cheonghyeon also quenched his thirst with the water bottle Jeong Seongbin handed him.
‘The people doing the vocal stages are going to have it rough, aren’t they?’
Kim Iwol had just left the waiting room anyway. Lee Cheonghyeon’s gaze naturally turned toward the door.
“I wonder what song he’ll sing.”
“Same.”
Agreeing with Kang Giyeon’s words, Lee Cheonghyeon also claimed an empty chair.
“Did anyone hear what song Iwol hyung chose?”
Lee Cheonghyeon asked, but no one raised a hand.
After going on and on about confidentiality. In any case, he really was a tight-lipped hyung.
“Still, I’m looking forward to it. Hyung practiced a lot.”
Jeong Seongbin said with a smile.
In fact, among the three members participating in the third contest, Kim Iwol had practiced the longest.
Lately, Kim Iwol’s routine had been to come in just before dawn, say, “It’s nice that Greenline’s practice rooms are open twenty-four hours,” grab only a short nap, then go to UA and practice individually.
It would be nice if people knew just how tenacious that man was.
These were the kinds of things Lee Cheonghyeon always found regrettable.
Though his tenacity had been proven through the unexpected means of his CSAT scores.
The conversation, which had been going on for quite a while about what kind of stage Kim Iwol would show, briefly quieted as the vocal position stage began.
Kim Iwol and Berion, who went up first, appeared on the screen.
“I feel this every time we monitor, but doesn’t Iwol hyung stand really straight?”
“He does.”
At Lee Cheonghyeon’s words, Choi Jeho nodded.
Kim Iwol always maintained a proper posture.
They had lived together for over a year, but none of the members had ever seen Kim Iwol stand with his weight on one leg or sit with his legs crossed.
Maybe that was why Kim Iwol always stood out when several people were standing together.
So that was why the dance teachers told them to straighten their shoulders and their backs. Lee Cheonghyeon muttered inwardly.
The four people on the screen good-naturedly finished their interview with Yureu and prepared for the stage.
When the four of them stood in a line and gripped their handheld microphones, the electronic screen lit up white.
At the same time, an accompaniment that everyone in the waiting room had probably heard at least once began to flow out.
『The wind that blows toward me
Beckons to me
Saying it is time to set off on an adventure』
“It’s a song from ‘New World.’”
Kang Giyeon murmured the title of an animation that had once dominated its era.
Now that he heard it, the characters’ outfits had felt like that. Belatedly realizing it, Lee Cheonghyeon clapped his hands and said, “You’re right!”
The simple, cheerful drumbeat and rhythm guitar accompaniment were almost identical to the original song.
‘Did they deliberately barely touch the arrangement?’
It was the complete opposite direction from the second contest, where they had boldly taken the song apart and rebuilt it. Lee Cheonghyeon, who had been sitting, leaned his upper body forward.
Kim Iwol was not the kind of person who would do less work because he found it bothersome.
So there was definitely a reason for this choice!
And finding that answer was both homework and a game to Lee Cheonghyeon.
‘What’s the reason? To make the harmony stand out? Or…….’
Even as Lee Cheonghyeon pondered, the song continued to flow.
The parts kept changing, but there was nothing jarring. The original song had been sung by one singer, but now, even though as many as four people were dividing one song among themselves, there was little sense of unfamiliarity.
After Yeo Seongchan brightly opened the intro, Kim Iwol carried the rising mood all the way to the highlight without letting it break.
The highlight that everyone could sing along to was taken by Cha Sehan.
Until the first verse, Mun Yeongyu’s performance did not stand out, but from the second verse onward, the harmonies and ad-libs gradually grew richer, and Mun Yeongyu showed his presence.
In particular, Mun Yeongyu’s ad-lib in the chorus of the third verse shone.
But as expected, Kim Iwol stood out the most.
Kim Iwol did not like stepping forward, but as the number of vocalists decreased and his teammates’ abilities fell short, it was obvious that he had taken on part after part.
『Inside my heart
There must be a map
A map that leads to dreams
My heart guides me
And makes me run without even time to stop』
On top of that, Kim Iwol’s firm yet gentle voice had a way of calling to mind OSTs from that era.
Even when Kim Iwol did not step to the forefront, the feel of the original song came alive just from him joining in the harmony.
At the same time, Lee Cheonghyeon realized why Kim Iwol had staged it so close to the original, and why Kim Iwol had willingly accepted his parts even in such a poor situation.
For the public, who wished their memories would not change.
In other words, it meant respecting the emotions the original song had given them.
The outfits and the song were matched to the story of the cartoon we would have watched back then.
Rather than showing something new, they focused on evoking nostalgia for what had passed.
The singing style and tone, too, were close to the original. That way, they created a form that felt the least foreign to listen to.
So that the listener would not be disturbed while recalling memories as they listened to the song.
‘It’d be ridiculous if the song suddenly changed right when you were getting ready to hit that high note in your head.’
Lee Cheonghyeon chuckled inwardly.
If they had simply copied the original song as is, they might have been evaluated as no different from a coin karaoke room.
But they did not stop there. Kim Iwol’s team maximized the strengths of the original song.
In the parts that had accompanied the splendid animation, the four of them layered harmonies as much as possible to enrich the music, and in the electric guitar solo part many people described as making their hearts race, they raised the guitar sound higher than in the original to leave an even stronger impression.
『Let me dive in
To a heart-racing
New world』
Within it, the members sang as plainly as the original, or even more plainly than the original.
Not trying to overlay anything onto the memory, but simply to serve as a medium that called the memory to mind.
“It really is a stage just like him.”
Lee Cheonghyeon rested his chin in his hand and smiled.