Chapter 27: Survival Entertainment Show - Random Keywords (1)
Chapter 27: Survival Entertainment Show - Random Keywords (1)
The reaction from the viewers was very intense after the premiere aired. I wasn’t sure whether it captivated the general public, but it certainly sparked a buzz across social media and portal sites.
My worry, however, was the lukewarm response from our core fan base. Despite "Moon Sea" causing a commotion and grabbing the initial attention of the public, the enthusiasm from our fandom seemed to wane post-broadcast. Although there was an undeniable buzz around Cha-Cha during the premiere, now that all group performances had aired, the spotlight was shifting toward those who had an impressive stage presence.
This shift presented a challenge for us in establishing a solid and loyal fan base before our “Moon Sea” performance was unveiled.
“We will upload videos to the Chronos official UTube channel every three days until Pick We Up ends, okay?”
“Ah, one was uploaded yesterday.”
“Yes, we are doing our best to secure loyal fans, and channels run by fans are also gradually increasing. So you guys just focus on doing your best.”
“Got it, hyung.”
Our rank, which had briefly risen to second place, fell back to third place after the show. Just before heading to the shooting location, the drop in rank had Joo-Han and Lee Jin-Sung quite worried.
The manager tried to reassure us, but he couldn’t brighten the dampened mood.
“We're not at the practice room today?” A thirty-minute drive later, we arrived not at our usual large practice room but a modest conference room—a stark change from our previous gatherings and significantly quieter.
Upon arrival, our manager made a beeline to confer with the producer director, leaving us to exchange awkward greetings with other staff members. Soon after, we were led to enter a room specially arranged for our group.
“Huh? Can we just go in like this?”
“Yeah, go in. The camera is on, so get started immediately.”
“Get started? What exactly...?”
The staff gestured with a determined smile for us to go in.
“You will know once you go in. Hurry up and go in.”
Their encouraging smiles did little to clarify things as we were ushered into the room. Inside, the space was bare, save for a wooden table and chairs, with strategically placed cameras around. Their red lights were blinking inconspicuously.
“What are we supposed to do here... Oh!”
A box rested on the table, sparking our curiosity.
Lee Jin-Sung picked up the box and shook it. “There's a box. Should we reach inside?”
"Hey! Be careful with it!" Park Yoon-Chan warned.
Yet, it was clear to anyone observing that we were expected to put our hands inside the box, and the setup didn't appear dangerous.
“Try putting your hand in. Well, not you, Joo-Han hyung.”
“I know. It looks like some sort of luck game, so someone like Jin-Sung or Hyun-Woo should do it,” answered Joo-Han.
“Jin-Sung, you do it.”
“Okay, I'll put my hand in.”
“Hey... Jin-Sung, is it really okay to just put it in like that?” asked Yoon-Chan.
Despite Park Yoon-Chan’s worried words, Lee Jin-Sung’s hand boldly went into the box. He stirred his hand around a few times and then widened his eyes. “Hey, there are several pieces of paper in here. Do I just pick any?”
“Pick one, pick one. It’s random anyway.” Goh Yoo-Joon encouraged, and Lee Jin-Sung picked up a piece of paper.
“What does it say?”
“Wait a moment.” Lee Jin-Sung unfolded the paper and tilted his head. “It says ‘KING.’”
“King?”
Lee Jin-Sung then flipped the paper to show us. It read “KING.”
“What is this?”
As we gathered around the paper, trying to understand its meaning, the TV hanging on the wall of the room turned on. Then, a text appeared.
“Whoa! That scared me!”
“What is it?”
Goh Yoo-Joon made a fuss and backed away from the television. Words were engraved on the white background screen, which matched the color of the wall.
[Hello, Chronos.]
"Hello." Though it was just a screen, everyone reflexively greeted back. The atmosphere demanded a response.
[You have picked a keyword from the box.]
[The word you have chosen will be the theme of the performance you must present in this competition.]
[This competition is a random keyword competition. Please freely choose songs that fit the keyword and show them off on the stage!]
The screen displayed the last phrase and turned off.
"Ah, Suh Hyun-Woo was right. It’s a random keyword competition!”
"Hyun-Woo? Did you know beforehand?"
I shook my head at Joo-Han's question and replied, “No. I only mentioned that it might be a random keyword competition this time. That’s all.”
The reason we were ushered into the conference room was to discuss how to take on the stage with this concept. As everyone took their seats, all eyes fixed on the paper placed in the center.
“Do you have any songs in mind?”
“King concept. I kind of get what it is, but what songs fit this concept?”
“It’s surprisingly hard to choose songs for this keyword.”
We were in need of a song that possessed a weighty, dark, and majestic quality. Honestly, such a song could be incredibly impactful if used correctly—it was almost like a secret weapon.
However, deploying it effectively was challenging. Objectively speaking, even with our considerable talents, we were still artists awaiting our debut.
‘Will we be able to fully embody a concept that demands solemnity and power?’
“How about ‘Drop?’ It’s a song by our senior, End Time.”
“Drop” was a song used for the opening of End Time's third concert. It had a majestic intro and spirited lyrics that were undeniably charming. However, it had the downside of featuring a relatively weaker chorus when compared to the impressive intro.
More critically, the song's powerful essence posed the risk of making us seem like children pretending to be adults if not executed with precision.
“Ah, what should we do!?”
Finding the right song was tricky. The group fell silent, each of us lost in thought. I wracked my brain, scrolling through my mental playlists for artists who might fit the bill. We didn't need another idol group’s song; we needed something we could adapt into our own style—a track from an artist renowned for their creative edge.
“Ah.”
Suddenly, Reina, the main host of Pick We Up, came to my mind.
“What about a song by Reina?”
“Reina?”
“It might be a lot of work for Joo-Han hyung, but there’s a song by her that really fits the vibe.” After that, I asked the staff outside the conference room to bring us a laptop. I searched for Reina’s song and played it. “It’s a song called ‘There Is No Night for Me.’ It has a medieval vibe and is very mysterious.”
“...A ballad?”
All the members showed a puzzled reaction. ”There Is No Night for Me” was a song from Reina’s third solo album, recorded right after she won an award. It expressed Reina's feelings of pressure following the award win. The mysterious and profound melody evoked the image of a queen standing alone under the dark moonlight.
It was a medieval ballad that wasn’t mainstream but had a strong following among music enthusiasts.
“It’s on point for the keyword, but how do you envision us performing it? The original tempo is quite slow.”
“We’ll need to reinvent it, give it a sense of grandeur.”
As talented as he was, Joo-Han couldn’t pull off such an arrangement alone. We'd need the support of our production company. Yet, if we managed it, the stage could be spectacular.
“Gotta bring in a lot of dancers. We have to really scale it up,” Joo-Han mused, his head lowered in deep thought.
I commented, “I really want to use this song, but I haven’t seen many cases where arranging a ballad into a dance song turned out well.”
Joo-Han eventually nodded. “I’m still not sure, but I trust Hyun-Woo’s choice. Let’s go to the company later and work on composing the kind of atmosphere we want.”
Lee Jin-Sung raised his hand. “Once we’ve done it, let me be the first to hear it. I’m really drawn to this concept. Could I try creating some choreography for it?”
“Certainly.”
Goh Yoo-Joon added, “How about making a grand entrance by sitting on thrones? Following Hyun-Woo’s suggestion, we could use large banners in the backdrop while introducing the dancers. There’s potential for some powerful imagery, don’t you think?”
“...This means we have our work cut out for us. I can’t do it all on my own.”
With the song decided, our vision for the concept and performance started to crystallize. Ideas flourished, spurred on by the keyword that was indeed a potent one to wield in competition.
However, I had to bring up a somewhat difficult topic in the midst of our exciting conversation. “About the center position this time, I personally think it would be good if Yoon-Chan takes it.”
“Yoon-Chan?”
Park Yoon-Chan looked at me with wide eyes, as if to say, “Bro, what are you talking about.” I avoided Park Yoon-Chan’s questioning gaze and continued, “I’m just stating my opinion, so it’s okay if you don’t want to do it.”
Joo-Han asked, “No, no. It’s a really good opinion, but why? Why do you think it would be good if Yoon-Chan is the center?”
“If Yoon-Chan feels pressured, we can’t help it, but I think it would be good for everyone to take turns being the center.”
In truth, I only made up this excuse to pass the center position to Park Yoon-Chan. His self-esteem had hit rock bottom after receiving a lot of criticism during the last competition. Even today, he didn’t participate in giving ideas and just glanced at the other members. He had always been a bit timid, but he wasn’t this passive.
Drawing from my experience of mentoring numerous trainees, I understood that individuals with low self-esteem tended to exhibit slow growth, hindering the improvement of their skills. In the long run, this could undoubtedly become a drawback for the team.
“I think this concept suits Yoon-Chan as well. What do you think?”
After all, Park Yoon-Chan was a member with great potential, and we needed to stick with him until the end.
‘He can’t fall behind from the start.’
This cheat key concept presented an ideal opportunity not only for the group but also to enhance Park Yoon-Chan’s visibility and position.
“I like it,” Joo-Han said with a nod of agreement.
“The chorus part just now was totally in falsetto. It would be perfect for Yoon-Chan.”
“Precisely. We can tone down the instrumental during that segment to highlight Yoon-Chan’s vocals,” said Joo-Han.
The contest's outcome depended on the fans' votes. Hence, ensuring a high-caliber performance that highlighted each member's unique appeal was crucial for climbing the rankings.
With Joo-Han’s support, the rest of the members seemed more open to the idea. “I think Hyun-Woo hyung has a point. While striving for the top spot is important, showcasing the individual strengths of our group is even more important,” remarked Jin-Sung.
The agreement from Lee Jin-Sung was unexpectedly swift, especially given his prior criticisms of Park Yoon-Chan’s dancing during “Cha-Cha" and “Moon Sea.” I had expected some resistance from him, so this was a welcome surprise.
“We’ll tailor the choreography to ensure that Yoon-Chan can perform it comfortably,” added Jin-Sung. This change of heart was noteworthy, especially coming from someone who had been fixated on maintaining the lead and was anxious about vote counts. It seemed like the negative comments targeting Yoon-Chan had left a significant impression on Jin-Sung.
“...Well, if everyone’s on board, I don’t object either.” Goh Yoo-Joon's response was indifferent, though he offered no outright objection.
“What about you, Yoon-Chan?”
Prompted by Joo-Han, the visibly tense Park Yoon-Chan seemed to withdraw further. “I, um...”
Such hesitation. In moments like these, seizing the moment was crucial. Why the reluctance?
Throughout the competition, Park Yoon-Chan had consistently been the most diligent worker despite his shortcomings. Our superior talents might have overshadowed his efforts, but considering his late start as a trainee and the speed with which he joined the debut group, his talents were commendable. His slower development was to be expected, given his less solid foundation.
“Don’t let external opinions bother you. Just speak your truth.” My encouragement seemed to help resolve his internal conflict. After a brief pause, during which he grappled with his insecurities, Park Yoon-Chan clenched his jaw decisively.
“I want to try it.”