Sol burst out laughing as he watched Tae-oh speak boldly, full of ambition, standing with his shoulders back, just like the lead in a passionate sports drama.
“Wow, our leader’s got guts!”
Ji-ho, feeling the same way as Sol, couldn’t stop laughing either and patted Tae-oh on the shoulder with enthusiasm. Tae-oh’s intensity didn’t just make Ji-ho and Sol laugh—it soon rubbed off on Deuk-yong too. Before long, as if the energy had spread to him, Deuk-yong struck a serious pose and shouted loudly, ready to transform at any moment.
“We’ll beat D-Block and snatch that <Hot Trick> for ourselves!”
“Fighting!”
Seeing Deuk-yong clench his fist confidently, Sol also balled his hand into a fist and stood beside him in solidarity. Suddenly, they heard a small thud as something dropped to the floor behind them.
Hearing the crinkle of what sounded like a relatively thin yet weighty plastic bag, Sol turned around. Behind the group of fired-up members stood Yeong-ho, jaw agape. He had clearly brought something, as the bags he’d been holding just moments before now lay on the floor.
“Guys… you know this is all being recorded, right? And remember, D-Block are your seniors!”
“Oh no! That’s right! The camera’s rolling!”
With a cry bordering on despair, Yeong-ho finally got through to Deuk-yong, who then clapped his hands together and moved towards the cameras installed around the set, waving his arms in a frantic attempt to downplay the moment. Every camera, with a small red light indicating recording was active, was indeed capturing everything.
“Editing… I mean, what if they use this against us later?”
With exaggerated movements, Yeong-ho trudged forward and dramatically collapsed in front of the members like a tragic character. Watching Yeong-ho’s antics, Deuk-yong turned his cap around, which slightly softened his intense expression and made him look mischievous. Now with a playful look on his face, Deuk-yong slid down to his knees in front of Yeong-ho and stared at him intently, showing off the “mischievous youngest member’s charm” he’d been practicing lately. Though it was Deuk-yong who was kneeling as if in apology, it was Tae-oh who ended up speaking the words of apology.
“Sorry. I got a bit carried away.”
Yeong-ho looked back and forth between Deuk-yong, kneeling in front of him, and Tae-oh, who had quickly calmed down, as if he hadn’t just been filled with excitement moments ago. With a sigh, he took in the scene. Tae-oh was barely twenty, and Deuk-yong was still in high school. In moments like this, they were simply kids. Resolving to beg the production team not to use the footage involving any mention of D-Block, Yeong-ho decided he’d need to give the members a little warning.
“I get what you were trying to say, but just be a bit more careful with your words. Make sure to always add ‘sunbae’ to their name respectfully.”
"Yes. We'll be more mindful from now on."
"Please do. My heart's racing. Let's avoid unnecessary criticism like being called rude or having a bad personality over trivial remarks."
Yeong-ho straightened up from his slumped position, letting out a sigh as he brushed his chest. He couldn't help but feel a pang of concern for the members, who had endured not only hardships but also moments of deep sorrow. Although they had no choice but to participate in the survival show, he earnestly hoped they wouldn’t be subjected to unwarranted criticism based on their on-screen appearances, as had happened with other audition programs run by OnMusicNet.
"Yes! I'll be careful!"
"You're the one I'm most worried about."
Deuk-yong shouted spiritedly, but Yeong-ho could only sigh even deeper as he looked at him. Shaking his head, Yeong-ho brushed off his knees and stood up. Picking up the bag he'd set on the floor, he caught Deuk-yong’s gaze fixed on the bag with sparkling eyes.
"I’ll really be careful, Yeong-ho hyung. But, what did you buy?"
At Deuk-yong’s question, Yeong-ho held up the bag and extended it toward the members.
"What else? I heard you skipped lunch, so I brought you packed meals."
"Yeong-ho hyung, I love you!"
"Come on, eat while it’s still warm, and let’s get back to it. Enthusiasm is great, but make sure to take care of your health and condition."
Deuk-yong jumped up. Just moments ago, he had been kneeling on the floor, but now he leapt like a spring. Sol, who had been standing nearby, clicked his tongue in surprise at Deuk-yong’s sudden burst of energy. Yeong-ho took out packed meals from the bag and handed them to each member. The bottom of the lunchbox in Sol's hands felt comfortably warm—not too hot, not too cold. Just the right temperature for eating.
As they received the meals, the members finally glanced at the time and expressed their gratitude to Yeong-ho. Moments ago, they had been fiercely debating the direction and concept of their song, their energy blazing. But with a simple packed meal from Yeong-ho, the atmosphere softened into something warm and cozy. The initial worries faded far into the background, leaving only their passion for their goals.
The expressions on their faces—commonly described as "burning with determination"—were all too evident. They looked every bit like young men in their prime, full of vigor. Though debuting still felt like a distant goal, their professionalism shone through. Lost in this spirited atmosphere, none of them realized how much time had passed.
Yeong-ho handed a lunchbox to Deuk-yong, adding, "Just for today, it's special." It was no surprise that Deuk-yong's grin stretched from ear to ear. The food at the company cafeteria, which he had been eating with his fellow members, wasn’t exactly bad, but today’s meal tasted especially good. A few pieces of fried food, rolled omelets, stir-fried anchovies, and kimchi—simple lunchbox fare, yet eating it together in the practice room made it feel like sharing something extraordinary. Even Sol, often teased for picking at his food, finished every bite of his lunchbox that day.
From that day on, Yeong-ho found himself delivering different lunch and dinner menus to the practice room every day. Meetings often ran long, causing them to miss lunch or dinner times. They even hesitated to spend time walking up to the cafeteria. With such limited time, yet so much they wanted to showcase and accomplish, every minute counted.
Seeing the members so absorbed that they didn’t even have time to glance at the clock, Yeong-ho also became busier. He constantly restocked the mini fridge in the practice room with ice, water, and sports drinks, along with snacks to keep their energy levels up. Of course, he was stricter with Deuk-yong, who proudly bore the title of a "lifelong dieter."
Once the group decided on a direction, Ga-ram pulled an all-nighter and presented the results the very next day. While there were small elements to refine and polish, he assured them that there wouldn’t be any major changes. Tae-oh and Sol, alongside the other members, then dove into choreographing in earnest.
“I think we should preserve as much of our seniors’ original choreography as possible in the first verse. This part, too—it’s a signature move, so we should keep it intact,” Tae-oh suggested, and everyone agreed. The moment their own [Hot Trick] truly came alive was when the second bell rang out. Like an old vinyl record skipping, the interlude would abruptly stop, and from that point, the stage would belong entirely to them.
Bit by bit, TEAM ONE’s choreography for [Hot Trick] began to take shape. While Deuk-yong sat with Ga-ram discussing the rap parts, Tae-oh and Sol casually tested and adjusted the choreography, as if warming up their bodies. As they moved and reviewed the overall flow, Tae-oh began to nod slightly, a sign that something wasn’t sitting right with him.
In truth, before the weekend evaluations changed, Sol had never choreographed anything on his own. In the past, whenever he performed on stage or competed in contests, he would follow choreography created by their instructor or choreographer, tailored to meet their standards. As a result, Sol was relatively inexperienced compared to Tae-oh, who, by contrast, was almost excessively skilled. But with such proficiency came blind spots.
“It’s lacking impact,” Tae-oh said, abruptly stopping as if he had hit the replay button on a video. He repeated the same sequence flawlessly, down to the smallest detail, before turning to Sol.
It was something both the inexperienced and the overly skilled had overlooked. The moves were too smooth. While that could be seen as a strength, the stability risked coming across as boring.
To put it simply, he was an idol who thrived on standing out. He was so polished and skilled that he sometimes lacked a striking impression that lingered in the mind. Tae-oh kept staring intently at Sol, his eyes almost urging him to say something. Sol hesitated and took a step closer to Tae-oh. He felt shy about presenting clumsy ideas in front of Tae-oh. Casting a quick glance behind him, Sol checked on the other members who were busy with their own tasks before speaking to Tae-oh in a small voice.
"Uh... when the chime plays and the interlude stops, what about trying something like this?"
In a gesture as small as his voice, Sol demonstrated an idea. Standing slightly sideways with one shoulder turned forward, Sol performed a motion reminiscent of the sign of the cross made by Catholic worshippers.
"The sign of the cross?"
"Yeah. Am I doing it right?"
Sol wasn't particularly religious, but he had always felt that the simple gesture carried a sense of solemnity. When Tae-oh asked, Sol repeated the movement. Tae-oh tilted his head slightly, observing Sol's actions with a serious expression. After repeating the gesture once more, Sol subtly lowered his head, sneaking a glance at Tae-oh to gauge his reaction.
"No need to be so hesitant. It's good."
Responding nonchalantly to Sol, who was waiting for his feedback, Tae-oh mimicked the gesture. There was no need for Sol to be so timid—his idea was actually excellent. When the serious-looking Tae-oh performed the sign of the cross, Sol felt it looked much more reverent than when he had done it himself. Watching him closely, Sol asked with a worried tone.
"Do you think we'd get scolded for blasphemy?"
At Sol's naive question, Tae-oh let out an involuntary chuckle.
"Do you know what a gesture for lying looks like?"
Tae-oh asked, showing Sol a motion where he crossed his index and middle fingers. It was a hand gesture often seen in foreign films, discreetly hidden behind the back.
"Our concept is corruption, right? So, using this gesture…”
Tae-oh continued explaining as he loosened his fingers, bringing his thumb underneath his index finger. He showed Sol the modified hand motion in detail, turning slightly sideways and lifting one shoulder. The pose seemed hunched yet subtly defiant. Then, just like Sol had done earlier, he performed a mock version of the sign of the cross—solemn but with a deliberately wicked twist.
"It's a fake sign of the cross."
