"Are you nervous?"
Ji-ho bent down to check Sol's face and asked with a warm smile. Having already gone through a large-scale audition program once before, Ji-ho seemed relatively relaxed. Seeing Sol shake his head frantically as if brushing away unnecessary thoughts, Ji-ho seemed to misunderstand. However, since Sol was indeed nervous, he gave a tiny nod and softly answered, "Yeah." Ji-ho, facing Sol with a smile, silently mouthed, "Me too." Then, Ji-ho placed his hand gently on Sol's knee.
Sol stared at Ji-ho's hand resting on his knee. Beneath Ji-ho's warm touch, much like his personality, Sol's leg was trembling nervously. Ji-ho must have noticed the trembling that even Sol wasn’t aware of and gently pressed down to calm it. At that moment, Sol recalled his early-morning ride to work.
Although it had improved significantly compared to before, riding in a four-wheeled vehicle still wasn’t entirely comfortable. That morning, even in the van, Ji-ho had lightly pressed down on Sol's knee with his palm, just like this.
This small gesture felt so natural that it seemed insignificant. Whenever Ji-ho sat next to Sol, he almost habitually placed his hand on Sol's knee. Sol couldn't even pinpoint when it started—it just felt like it had been happening ever since Sol began reaching out to the members first. During the brief moments leading up to the stage, Sol realized how many helping hands had supported him along the way.
Ji-ho's hand resting on Sol's knee. Tae-oh's hand gripping his waist on stage. Ga-ram's firm handshake backstage. How many hands had unknowingly been holding Sol up? A warm feeling spread in Sol's chest.
[You are currently in a state of ‘Small Happiness.’ Fatigue recovery accelerates rapidly.]
[While in the ‘Small Happiness’ state, the effect of the ‘Stability Potion’ triples, and Luck increases by one level temporarily.]
A mint-colored notification window popped up in front of him, but Sol dismissed it without checking the details. There was no need to read it—he already understood. He was happy right now.
Sol lifted his head and looked at Ji-ho. Ji-ho, seemingly unaware of Sol's gaze, stared straight ahead. His soft, silky bangs framed his sparkling light brown eyes, radiating kindness. Following Ji-ho’s line of sight, Sol’s eyes landed on the stage. By then, the emcee was already standing center stage with a microphone in hand.
“The challenge toward a dazzling debut, My Idol Stars. The seven teams gathered here will compete in two rounds to advance to the live broadcast stage. However, only five teams will make it to the live stage.”
With precise enunciation and a clear voice reminiscent of a news anchor, the emcee naturally drew the attention of Sol and Ji-ho to the stage. It was time to focus. The emcee began explaining the rewards for the winning team, something Sol had already heard multiple times, and moved on to introducing the judges.
Whenever he stretched out his hand and pointed to the judges' seats, the people sitting in the large chairs with backrests stood up one by one, turned to greet the members seated behind them.
They were individuals the trainers had mentioned a few times before. Each of them was relatively famous, so every greeting was met with applause and exclamations like "Wow!" and "Amazing!" from different parts of the audience. Although there was a distinction between judges and contestants, Sol could feel the stark difference in the reactions and atmosphere when the judges made their appearances.
Composers, choreographers, and even legendary singers and rappers that every South Korean would recognize stood up and sat back down in succession. Following this, there was an explanation of how these judges would evaluate and score the performances and how those scores would be used.
Out of all the emcee's remarks, one phrase stood out in Sol’s mind: the 1st ROUND introductory stage prepared for today would not involve scoring, nor would there be any eliminations. In other words, it was simply an event to introduce the seven teams. While there was no pressure from results, the order of the performances was determined by drawing lots under the emcee's direction.
"Third, please let it be third, or at least fourth," Ga-ram murmured like a prayer, clasping his hands together and repeating it. Although they had a rehearsal in the morning, they had only gone on stage once. Sol agreed that going first was too nerve-wracking, while performing last seemed too exhausting, so Ga-ram's preference for third or fourth seemed just right. The other members seemed to share this sentiment—Tae-oh waited silently, and Deuk-yong, sitting at the end of the line, clasped his hands together without saying a word.
But it seemed like fate had destined them to be "Team 7." The ball the emcee drew had a bold "7" written on it. Team 7's performance was set to be the very last, in seventh place.
***
Jeong-eun, who had been lying on the floor despite the perfectly fine sofa nearby, suddenly voiced her dissatisfaction while watching TV. Recently, it seemed like every time she turned on the TV, it was another idol audition or survival program. Watching much younger people desperately trying to make it on television left her feeling drained and made her dislike these types of shows.
"Ugh, so sick of this. It’s survival shows every single day."
Living a monotonous life of going back and forth between work and home, Jeong-eun spent her evenings sprawled out on the warm floor like this, passing time before eventually getting up to wash and go to bed. She muttered her complaint in apparent annoyance but didn’t bother to change the channel. She didn’t have any particular shows she was following, nor did she feel like getting up to look for the remote.
It seemed like a new show was just starting, so she planned to leave it on as background noise while she idled away the time.
"Then why are you watching it?"
Her mother, who was seated on the sofa and had opened a book, glanced at Jeong-eun, lying there grumbling, and casually tossed out a remark.
"I’m not watching it. It’s just playing in the background. I’m bored."
"If you’re bored, read a book or exercise or something."
"Too much effort."
Jeong-eun’s mother enjoyed reading poetry books as a hobby, but Jeong-eun didn’t share that interest. These days, she preferred to come home after work and do absolutely nothing. To be precise, she didn’t have the energy to do anything else. She spent all day dealing with a boss who dumped work on her with a casual “figure it out yourself,” and clenched her teeth to leave work right at 6 p.m. sharp, no matter what anyone said. After enduring the suffocating and endlessly frustrating hell that was the packed subway, she’d arrive home not wanting to lift a single finger.
As soon as she got home, she’d change into comfortable clothes, tie her hair up into a messy bun, eat the hot meal her mom prepared, and then lounge around like this until past midnight, when she’d finally drag herself to the bathroom to shower. Her mom often scolded her, telling her to go to bed early if she was so exhausted, but Jeong-eun didn’t like sleeping either. Spending time sleeping felt like a waste. But doing anything productive during that time? Jeong-eun was far too worn out for that—she was a tired, over-the-hill thirty-something office worker.
In truth, back in her college days, Jeong-eun had been busy fangirling over her favorite 2D animation characters—a hobby known as “otaku culture.” However, after entering the workforce, she naturally drifted away from those interests. Every now and then, she’d text her friends saying, “Got anything new for me to fangirl over? Come on, pitch me something,” but she had no real intention of actually getting into it again.
Jeong-eun turned her gaze to the TV screen. The logo for OnMusicNet, a channel that mainly aired K-pop-related content, caught her eye. The screen faded to black, and a rapid montage of idol group performance clips played behind it. Over the video, white text appeared, accompanied by the familiar voice of the announcer.
[Approximately 40 idol groups debut each year.]
[Debuting doesn’t guarantee success, but some teams don’t even get a chance to step onto a debut stage.]
Seeing the text on the screen, Jeong-eun thought to herself, 'are there really that many'? Though she often said she had no interest in 3D guys, she still knew most of the recent popular songs. However, unless a group achieved instant success upon debut, came from a major agency, or had already released their second or third album, they wouldn’t leave much of an impression on her. Not every debuting group made it into the spotlight. In fact, there were plenty of groups that faded into obscurity without anyone even realizing they had debuted.
Now that the new year had begun, Jeong-eun started counting the names of idol groups she’d heard about last year. She couldn’t even use more than one hand before she sat up, slightly intrigued by the unexpectedly high number.
[Hidden stars whose worth hasn’t yet been fully recognized.]
[Because we know how desperate they are and how brightly they shine.]
[OnMusicNet Boy Group Debut Project My Idol Stars]
[It Starts Now]
After a series of grand explanations and mentions of special privileges for the winning team, several agencies with either familiar or unfamiliar names were introduced. Jeong-eun watched the faces on the screen with an indifferent expression. She had no interest in 3D men. No matter how handsome they were, could they ever match up to 2D? Even during her school days, she had never been particularly interested in idol groups or male celebrities.
She thought the program's overall intention wasn’t bad. It was about debut teams made up of trainees from small agencies. Since many end up debuting only to fade into obscurity, this survival show was their way of saying, "We may belong to lesser-known agencies, but look how talented we are. Give us some attention." However, perhaps because they were from small agencies, none of the six teams that appeared really stood out. They weren’t unattractive, but none were striking enough to elicit a “Wow, they’re handsome.” They all seemed average.
Jeong-eun quickly lost interest and turned her attention to her phone, which was vibrating. But at the emcee’s excited announcement, "The final Team 7!" she raised her head and looked at the screen.
As with the previous introductions, the stage was dark before the lights suddenly poured down, and the first member stepped forward. The lighting was so intense that it seemed like some kind of divine descent. The legs that extended through the halo of light were impressively long.
Led by a strikingly handsome man with black hair walking like a model, the rest of the members followed in a line, each equally tall and lean. Unlike the previous teams, they were dressed neatly in school uniforms, and their visuals were so stunning they felt like the result of revolutionary editing technology. For the first time, Jeong-eun felt the phrase "doll-like" could be applied to real people. Adjusting her posture, she unconsciously voiced her thoughts.
“Huh? That one’s not bad.”
“Him? You think he’s good-looking?”
Her mother, who had been flipping through a poetry book, raised her head at Jeong-eun’s remark. After glancing at the screen, Jeong-eun’s mother clicked her tongue, shook her head, and gave her daughter an incredulous look. Puzzled by her mother’s reaction, Jeong-eun turned to face her, only for her mother to ask again, as if unable to accept it.
“What’s handsome about him?”
AAAAA I can’t wait for the public to adore Sol as much as the others do !!! I hope he can showcase his dance talent in here. Thank you for the chapter!
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