Chapter 4

If I don't debut, I'll get a disease that will kill me 004

"Huh?"

A few of the judges began to murmur.

"Teaholic?"

A few years ago, the super-sized boy idol group 'Teaholic,' which had won the grand prize for three consecutive years, entered a hiatus. This was due to the inevitable shortage of members caused by military service.

So instead, the agency pushed the solo activities of the youngest main vocalist, who had not yet received a summons. It was a mini-album with a powerful chorus as the title track.

However, time revealed that the true value of this album lay not in the title track but in the coupling track.

Surprisingly, it had climbed the music charts to the third position through a reverse chart movement.

The wave began with a recommendation post on a major female soloist's SNS and grew into a small wave through a few variety shows.

That coupling track was "PARTY IN ME."

A laid-back listening song with a rich band sound and sophisticated synth, it was sung at various university festivals that year and eventually landed within the top 100 annual charts.

And now, what was flowing through the filming site was clearly its intro.

The iconic introduction with a unique accordion-like chorus melody was playing.

Of course, it was a masterpiece. If sung well, it was an impressive song.

That's why it was even stranger.

'Could someone choose this song without knowing anything about it?'

This was a very ambiguous song.

It wasn't a representative hit from the peak of a famous idol, nor was it a well-known song by an established singer.

Therefore, it wasn't a song that would immediately come to mind and be chosen for the first evaluation in either an idol survival show or a singer survival show.

It subtly missed both categories.

Especially at this point, several years after the song became popular.

Thinking a common song would come up, the producers hadn't designated a specific song, and this variable emerged.

Of course, the production team could have checked the audio submitted by the participants in advance. However, there were 77 participants.

It was a mistake to skim through the audio of the substitute, thinking it wasn't worth the time.

'Such an ambiguous song is hard to edit for comparison...'

The writer tapped the pen irritably.

The judges, who were surprised by the song choice, were now waiting for the intro to end with a slightly relaxed attitude.

Then, Park Moondae opened his mouth.

-I remember the me I knew

Beyond the bright and dazzling season

Even through the tired and weak times

At the end of endless days

Holding my broken self, Oh-

Only me

Yeah, It’s me

"......!"

Good.

From the first verse, which started with an offbeat and continued in a murmuring manner, it was flawless.

Because it sounded comfortable to the ear, many people who didn't know the song well often missed the subtle beats when singing it.

It meant they sounded amateurish.

But this participant was accurately inserting the small melodies into the complex beats.

'Ta, ta-ta, ta, ta, ta-ta, ta-ta.'

"......!"

One of the judges, who had been unconsciously tapping the table, was startled. It fit perfectly.

This way, even general viewers who didn't know about split beats would get the impression that it was sung well because it matched the accompaniment perfectly.

Moreover...

'The vocal... is good?'

The vocal was notably good. It wasn't just loud; the good timbre was heard in a three-dimensional way.

'Did he sing like this in the karaoke room?'

The writer recalled the song he heard when they first met, but it wasn't to this level. If he had sung like this, they would have conducted more interviews during the recruitment and given him a better song choice.

'So, did he improve this much in ten days?'

Regardless of the writer's confusion, the song moved from the verse to the pre-chorus.

-So, I

I have to commemorate myself

I must never forget

Remember

Until now

While the pitch steadily rose like an escalator, there was not a single flat note. There were no unnatural breathing parts either.

At this point, the writer noticed something else. For example, the surprised expressions of the judges.

-Always living through today

The amazing miracle

Don't forget, don't erase

So, celebrate

Commemorate now

That’s the party in me

Every day is a PARTY, Ooh-let’s PARTY

The high notes extended smoothly, not looking strained. It was easy and clean, as if there was still about an octave left to reach.

It was the perfect way to sing a song that should be heard beautifully, like speaking softly instead of shouting.

Now, the writer almost wanted to chuckle.

'Well, good... really a main vocalist material... I was already short on vocalists, wow, this is a good thing, isn't it? My judgment is really great. To get such a talent just by recruiting on the street...'

The second verse came again.

Park Moondae naturally handled the complexity of the melody being the same as the first verse but with a different rhythm.

He effortlessly raised his voice through the bridge and the final chorus, where there was a modulation.

The thrilling high notes passed pleasantly, not excessive but not rushed, a great climax.

And then, returning to the first line of the verse as if speaking, the song ended.

-...I remember the me I knew

The participant produced a good sound even to the last note.

As soon as the accompaniment ended, Park Moondae bowed. Then, he added a slightly blank comment.

"...Thank you for listening."

A brief silence followed. The writer gripped the pen.

'Right. Don't send him away, keep him.'

As she adjusted Park Moondae's position, the judges excitedly picked up their microphones.

"Wow, Mr. Moondae!!"

"Yes."

"Do you know how well you did!?"

"...I practiced hard to sing well."

Then another judge cut in.

"No, this is just a natural talent. You have talent."

It was a choreographer known for being straightforward.

He smiled, narrowing his eyes, as if he was pleased.

While he might be exaggerating a bit for the broadcast, he wasn't the type to say things he didn't mean.

Park Moondae bowed with a sense of triumph.

The judges' praise continued to pour in.

Especially the female soloist and vocal coach, Mudi, who was a guest, praised him with shining eyes.

"First, your timbre is really refreshing. And your vocal technique is so good that it comes through even more."

"Right? It's like he's speaking right next to your ear..."

"Exactly, exactly."

Voices of agreement poured in. Then, Mudi nodded and continued in a quick voice.

"Also, your voice seems versatile and would fit various genres, which is a crucial point for idols. There's no forced or outdated habit, and I'm really looking forward to your future. Really."

"Thank you."

"Mr. Moondae, you haven't joined an agency yet, right? You said you had no experience, and it seems like you really don't have any background here."

"Yes. Not yet..."

Then a young male judge, a member of a famous boy idol group who had lost two members during the recent re-signing season, chimed in.

"Then, you haven't had any special lessons?"

"Yes."

"None at all? Not even at a school?"

Park Moondae shook his head silently.

The judge who asked the question looked impressed but with a hint of suspicion. Then, Mudi smiled broadly and spoke again.

"Right, right, sometimes it's better to wait for a great opportunity than to join just any agency. I'm sure a good offer will come your way!"

"Thank you for your kind words."

The writer suddenly recalled that Mudi's agency was preparing to launch a boy idol group.

'Come to think of it, he had shares in his own agency.'

Then she looked at the participant, who was still polite but didn't seem overly impressed.

Looking at the judges' seats, which were filled with praise, she felt a strange sensation.

It was as if something had subtly slipped by.

Finding a talented participant was certainly beneficial for the show, but it felt off.

The writer, resting her chin, suddenly noticed Park Moondae's handheld microphone.

'He didn't really dance properly, after all!'

Of course, Park Moondae did perform some choreographic movements.

However, since the song wasn't made for performance, those movements were at the level of gestures.

The song was arranged so that the dancers would perform proper choreography around him, and he would move his hands and legs in time with the beat.

But the original stage, which included dancers, left a lasting impression in people's minds.

Seeing his weak gestures, people would automatically fill in the dancers around him and think, 'That's how the original stage was,' and easily overlook it.

Especially when the singing was so impressive!

Moreover, since it was a conceptual song by a top-tier idol, he could avoid questions like, 'Is Mr. Moondae really interested in being an idol?' by relying almost solely on his vocal ability.

In the end, it was the best choice for Park Moondae's situation.

'This goes beyond just having a good sense; it feels experienced...'

The writer felt as if she had been tricked and looked at Park Moondae with a disapproving eye.

Then, as if reading the writer's mind, a judge who had been quietly watching the other judges' praise picked up the microphone.

Youngeun, a member of the girl idol group 'Saint You,' who had become a sensation with a reverse chart hit of a solo performance doing acrobatics in the rain during her unknown days, spoke.

"Since there was almost no dance difficulty in this performance, can we see a proper dance?"

The writer wanted to clap.

* * *

'Got it.'

The effort of leveling up by singing this song repeatedly over the past few days paid off.

By focusing all the points on singing, the 'Vocal' stat in my status window is now A-.

It was a natural choice. In Korea, if a singer can't sing, they're out, whether they're an idol or not.

While poor dancing can be covered with practice, poor singing is noticeable even with pre-recorded tracks.

Moreover, in the pool of idol hopefuls, there were typically fewer main vocalist hopefuls than main dancer hopefuls.

So, by establishing myself as a main vocalist early on, the probability of securing a spot in the debut lineup increased.

Next, the method of selecting the evaluation song.

It seems my approach was correct, given the lack of negative feedback.

I anticipated the criticisms the judges might make based on my weaknesses and eliminated songs that would elicit such reactions.

'Why is your dancing so bad?'

- Removed songs with proper choreography.

'You don't dance at all?'

- Removed ballads.

'You sing well, but you don't seem like an idol?'

- Removed all but idol songs.

'Wasn't it too much for you to handle this song alone?'

- Removed songs that require more than three people to perform.

'You'll be compared to the original singer!'

- Removed songs released within the last three years.

I chose the song with the best chart record from the remaining songs.

Thinking about it again, it was a good strategy.

I thought I might slip through unnoticed, but as expected, there was at least one person who wasn't swayed by the atmosphere.

I met the eyes of the judge holding the microphone.

I recognized the face.

The first idol who told me that endorsing idols could be profitable, helping me cover my tuition for the second semester of my first year.

'He also gained a reputation as a hard worker through that rain acrobatics solo, so it was a win-win.'

But this time, it doesn't seem to be a mutually beneficial meeting.

"I understand you haven't had any training. But since this is the first evaluation, shouldn't we check your basic state? If you participated in an audition show, I assume you would have prepared at least one song."

Saying 'I didn't prepare anything' here would be insane. It would be worse than saying nothing.

"Yes. How about this song?"

A staff member quickly approached the stage and gestured to me. I went over and mentioned the song I had in mind.

The camera followed, capturing the staff member's hesitation.

Seeing this, it seems they'll try to avoid cutting the scene. The effort paid off.

Soon, a lively accompaniment filled the filming site.

"......!?"