Second Try Idol

Chapter 38: Survival Entertainment Show - Unit (6)

“Hyung, I just caught you glancing at On-Sae again. Why are you trying to copy him when you have memorized all your choreography? Let’s do it again,” I asked.

“Okay.”

“One, two, three, four, boom... Okay,” I said in a flat tone.

The fellow members whispered among themselves as they looked at Kim Jin-Wook and me. "Since when did they become so close?"

"Exactly. But I'm not sure if they are really friends. There’s no life in Hyun-Woo’s voice."

"I don’t know. I think it's quite a progress that Hyun-Woo is teaching him how to dance."

If they were going to whisper, they should have made sure I couldn’t hear them. Their conversation started making things awkward between Kim Jin-Wook and me.

Over the past few days, I found myself alone with Kim Jin-Wook quite a bit, and I ended up giving him some tips. Before I knew it, I had become his unofficial dance tutor. Being remarkably cooperative now, Kim Jin-Wook was easier to work with than most of the trainees I'd had in the past.

Unlike Park Yoon-Chan, Jin-Wook had no natural talent for dance. The best he could do was to match the dance angles and speed. However, since he’d be dancing in the back most of the time anyway, it didn’t really matter.

"Hyung, you need to lift your elbow more."

No one would be able to criticize Kim Jin-Wook's efforts if they saw him practicing, even if he couldn't dance well on stage.

"Have we taken enough breaks? Let's get back to practice!"

The other team members slowly got up and gathered around us. Seeing them coming over, I positioned myself in the center. Somehow, assigning the center position had been simpler and quicker than selecting the song.

During our discussion about who should be at the center, I volunteered by raising my hand, and to my surprise, everyone else stepped back, allowing me to take the lead. After all, all members except for Kim Jin-Wook had not experienced the pressure of being in the spotlight and felt the weight of the role to be overly daunting.

It was a relief that I had managed to secure the spot effortlessly.

"When are the dancer hyungs coming? I want to practice the whole routine properly from start to finish."

"They are busy, so they won’t be able to get here until the evening."

On-Sae pouted after hearing Ji-Hyuk’s response, but he didn't voice his complaint. He knew these dancers from abroad were notoriously busy, making it hard to secure their availability for practice, even with the assistance of YU Entertainment.

When our schedules did align, we found ourselves with a mere three hours to practice with them. Despite this seemingly adequate time, it remained a rarity for the full group to practice together in unison.

"We will need to really recharge our energy today. It’s our last practice."

"Right. But why don’t we have rehearsals for broadcasts? I wouldn’t be so nervous if we could at least rehearse."

"It’s not the lack of rehearsals that’s making you nervous, but the unprecedented difficulty of this choreography."

"That’s true."

The duo of Street Center murmured amongst themselves. Even the two most experienced in group dances couldn’t help but mention the difficulty of the dance.

"How about we have a lunch party to save some energy?"

"A lunch party?"

Ji-Hyuk took out a card. "I got it from the manager beforehand. Since it's our final rehearsal, and we've been sustaining ourselves on instant food like ramen, why not treat ourselves?"

We were isolated in the mountains, and while we certainly enjoyed ourselves, we had to give up any cravings for good food. As none of us could cook, we mostly ate kimchi fried rice and such. Since the start of our practice sessions, we usually just bought something on our way back to the house.

"It's our last practice, and I realized we haven't had a single party. We’ve worked so hard though."

"That’s true, isn’t it? We were always too exhausted."

"What are we eating?"

At Ha-Yoon's question, Ji-Hyuk thought for a moment and then grinned. "You guys can grill meat, right?”

***

It was the first team dinner in two weeks. The members were overjoyed, facing plates of pork belly.

“Wow, can you believe we have not felt this amazing daytime breeze since the first day?”

“It’s only you, Ha-Yoon hyung. The other hyungs went jogging every morning.”

“Oh, really?”

The idea of having pork belly for our team dinner seemed to have been spontaneously suggested by Ji-Hyuk, unrelated to the filming crew's plans. Nonetheless, the staff who were monitoring us didn't hesitate to come out and set up their cameras, preparing to capture the moment.

We were excited at being filmed while eating, and the camaraderie amongst us was obvious now. Acting freely in front of the cameras had become second nature to us, which allowed our conversations to flow, without a trace of nervousness.

“By the way, it’s already been two weeks. I thought I wouldn't be able to adjust, but it turned out to be surprisingly fun.”

“Right? Honestly, when I first saw everyone in the conference room, I was like, ‘Wow, is this really going to be okay?’”

“It was a really unexpected combination. I asked members from other teams, and they said our team composition was the talk of the town.” Ji-Hyuk and the duo of Street Center started reminiscing about the past two weeks. Our team had a lot of troubles at first, so the hyungs likely had a hard time back then.

I fiddled with the tongs and moved the cooked meat to On-Sae’s bowl. “On-Sae, when did you actually start dancing?”

“I started in elementary school. But I’m nowhere near Jin-Sung hyung’s level.”

“You know Jin-Sung?”

On-Sae nodded. Well, every dancer knew about Lee Jin-Sung. “He’s famous. But hyung, you dance really well too. You might even be better than him at accentuating the lines of your body.”

"Thanks for the kind words. Make sure you eat up," I urged him, playfully piling more meat into his bowl despite his protests.

As I was doing so, I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Kim Jin-Wook stepping back.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Hand over the tongs," he requested abruptly.

After passing the tongs to Kim Jin-Wook, I observed him curiously, wondering what he would do next. He then pointed to the meat with a nod, signaling me to help myself.

"Hyung, you've changed. Since when do you care about me eating my fill?" I teased, noticing a softer side to him despite his typically stern expression.

Our side of the table—with just me, On-Sae, and Kim Jin-Wook—was starkly quiet compared to Ji-Hyuk's lively end. However, the silence was soon broken by the director, who subtly prompted us to engage in conversation.

Kim Jin-Wook then caught me off guard with an unexpected apology. "If I made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry," he said, his habit of omitting the subject making it momentarily unclear whom he was addressing.

‘To me? Or On-Sae?’

“Me?” When I pointed at myself with a puzzled expression, Kim Jin-Wook also frowned and nodded. “You looked like you were glaring at me.”

“Well, we didn't really get along after that either.”

“I said I'm sorry. After all, we might not have much time to talk once we go back to our respective groups.”

That was true. I had been secretly using my phone, but I was not close enough to Kim Jin-Wook to exchange contact information.

“I realized I was taking my anger out on you during practice.”

“Well, it’s all good now.”

I wondered how the camera captured this interaction. As soon as Kim Jin-Wook apologized, all events related to him flashed through my mind like a flipbook. I couldn't talk about everything in front of the cameras, like cigarettes or petty squabbles, but it had been a truly unpleasant encounter.

“To be honest, it still feels like we don't really get along.” I snickered, and Kim Jin-Wook awkwardly laughed.

I added, “But I do hope you debut well, hyung. Watching you practice so hard made me reflect on myself.”

The thought “just go to hell, Air Senior” completely vanished when I saw how hard Kim Jin-Wook was trying. He practiced continuously even when everyone else was resting, went home to collapse in bed, and then woke up early in the morning to practice in the yard.

It would be unfair if someone working so hard couldn’t debut due to external factors. I felt that as someone who had been in a similar position.

“Thank you.”

After that, there was nothing more to talk about. As our table grew silent, the members from the other table swarmed over to us. “It was just the quiet kids here, huh? Seems like you guys got a bit closer.”

“We just cleared the air. Did you guys run out of meat over there?”

“How did you know? That’s why we came here. Did you guys only eat this much?”

As time passed, the conversation deepened. We then shared things that went unsaid during practice, expressing our gratitude to Ji-Hyuk for his perfect leadership and to me for inadvertently assuming the role of a trainer. The discussion also ventured into compliments and critiques regarding the other members.

There was a lot to talk about.

“Guys, the dancers will arrive at the practice room in ten minutes.”

It was 8 PM, time to practice for the competition tomorrow. All of us who had relaxed a lot during dinner quickly cleaned up and headed to the practice room.

***

“Will my path intersect with the dancers if I move from here to there?” Ji-Hyuk asked, illustrating his concern with a step to show what he meant.

“You're right. Let's have the dancer on the right hold their position, and the one behind Ji-Hyuk can move,” Woo-Jeong suggested, gesturing with his pen as he mapped out the movements.

His expertise from being a member of Street Center shone through. His knack for crafting eye-catching choreography and averting on-stage mishaps was unmistakable.

"So, Jin-Wook and I will move back here, and as soon as the lying down members get up, they should stay at the waist level. Then we all rush forward. Does that sound right?"

"Yes, that's correct. The dancers will help to block the audience's view, but be careful not to trip over."

"The ones on the ground need to stay at the waist level as soon as they get up, or they might get hurt."

"Got it!"

Was this a dance or a feat of acrobatics? Their ability to execute such complex choreography during a live performance was impressive. Despite the crazy demands, the dancers and group members raised no objections.

"No matter how many times I look at it, this is great. You should be a producer later, Hyun-Woo.”

“Let’s debut first.”

Ji-hyuk couldn't stop expressing his admiration as he monitored the choreography. Initially, the members had had doubts about blending intense dance with a zombie theme, but now it was proving to be a remarkable choice. They were finally seeing the potential I had spotted from the start.

“I don’t care about the competition now. I just want to make this performance cool. It's so much fun!" Ha-Yoon exclaimed with enthusiasm, uplifting the spirits of all the members. The Street Center members would lose the most if this group took first place, but they were still putting in so much effort.

"Jin-Wook is doing well too. You have kept up with the intense practice, man."

"Thank you."

"Use what you've learned here in the competition later on. It will help you."

While Woo-Jeong was having a friendly chat with Kim Jin-Wook, and On-Sae was monitoring everything with Ha-Yoon, Ji-Hyuk massaged his legs and spoke contentedly beside me, "That's enough practice! Let's call it a day before we all faint. Rest well and take care of your condition for tomorrow."

"Good work, everyone!"

The voices of nearly fifty people echoed in unison. Despite the late hour, the atmosphere was vibrant with confidence in the performance we had prepared.

"You've worked hard too, Hyun-Woo. Let's head back to the dorm."

"Yes, you too, hyung."

Ji-Hyuk patted my shoulder, stood up, and started packing his things. Was it finally time?

As I absentmindedly gazed at the large, empty practice room of YU, Woo-Jeong approached me and offered his hand.

"Let's go. Can you stand?"

"Yes, I can, hyung. Thank you." I took Woo-Jeong's hand and stood up. So... this boisterous practice session was finally coming to an end. Strangely, I felt a tinge of sadness.

The eve of the competition marked the end of our final rehearsal.