As the pure, untainted chime of a bell rang out, reminiscent of the church bells announcing the march of a pristine bride, Sol clasped his hands at the center of his chest, raising them high in a gesture of prayer. All eyes were drawn to the tips of his fingers, and just as they were, Ji-ho and Ga-ram stepped forward, obscuring Sol from view.
Dressed neatly in their school uniforms, Ji-ho stepped to the very front, accompanied by an interlude that felt like a gentle spring breeze. His endlessly affectionate yet slightly mischievous expression, combined with his soft, creamy voice, brought a smile to his lips as he sang the first note.
“A dazzling mystery, a night as deep as a labyrinth begins now. You’ll surely lose your way.”
Ji-ho's voice was vibrant and brimming with energy. As he took light, bouncy steps like a skipping ball, moving across the stage, Ga-ram filled the spot Ji-ho had just vacated. Ga-ram, now taking center stage, slicked back his damp hair in a move reminiscent of a student fresh from washing his hair at the faucet. Unlike Ji-ho, Ga-ram sang the next verse in a calm, composed voice, making it entirely his own.
“A mysterious trick, a secretive trap. YOU, YOU, YOU, YOU, YOU, Gotcha.”
With a united "Gotcha!" they all jumped and spun in perfect synchronization. As the group spread out from the center of the stage, they launched into a demanding choreography that, despite its intensity, left them breathless. Even without glancing at one another, their synchronized movements, precisely in time with the music, filled the stage seamlessly. The impeccable group performance of these five young men left no room for flaws, revealing the immense effort that had gone into perfecting it.
Though they were still trainees with a debut far off, their stage presence was astonishingly polished, to the point where they could easily be mistaken for seasoned performers. There was nothing lacking in their expressions, movements, or vocals—if anything, they were overflowing with talent. The performance wouldn't have seemed out of place even in a concert setting rather than a mere showcase for their introduction.
The neatly tailored school uniforms and Sol’s occasional awkward glances only added a touch of freshness and authenticity to the stage. Sol, standing at the far left of the lineup, walked to the center and flashed a warm eye-smile. While Sol might not have realized it, his smile was shining brightly within the small camera lens that captured him.
Though Sol’s part wasn’t particularly long, his angelic face and gentle, pure voice captured the hearts of everyone watching the performance. This included the judges, his competitors seated in the waiting area, and even future audiences who would later encounter Sol on television. Even now, other contestants watching the stage let out sighs filled with mixed emotions. However, none of this noise reached the members, who were entirely immersed in the sound and their performance.
As Sol’s part ended, Ji-ho’s chorus followed. His powerful, clear voice and impressive vocal range, combined with relaxed movements and expressions, made him seem as though he was thoroughly enjoying the stage. Standing beside him, Ga-ram and Sol added harmonies to the chorus. The addition of Sol’s delicate voice to Ji-ho’s refreshing and captivating tone transformed what might have been a monotonous repetitive chorus into something rich and vibrant.
If the original <Hot Trick> by D-Block was bold and intense, the version created by these members felt more like a refreshing, youthful choir performed by boys.
The chorus, which naturally brought a contented smile to one’s face, ended, and for a moment, it felt as if the stage had come to a halt. The interlude faded away, replaced by white noise reminiscent of an old LP record. The transparent, refreshing lights that had flooded the stage abruptly flickered out, replaced by an ominous red hue. As contrasting blue lights layered over the red, a palpable tension settled over the stage.
The members gathered into a single formation, concealing the twist they had hidden. Sol, who had opened the performance, stood at the forefront of the lineup, obscuring the audience's view with his striking, dazzling appearance.
Deuk-yong's husky voice and Tae-oh's deep, low tones began to whisper eerily, as though casting a spell. Tae-oh's voice, so low and repetitively murmured, resonated like a bass reverberating through the speakers.
“I want you, I want you, I want you.”
The obsessive, emotionless whisper, sounding almost like a curse, starkly contrasted with the previous mood. The sudden shift in atmosphere caused the small audience to stir uneasily.
Like laser dots aiming at a target, the red lighting converged on Sol standing at the center. The way the red beams rippled and moved together to point at one individual resembled an elaborate performance art piece.
As the spotlight focused on him, Sol raised his hand to his lips in a gesture of silence instead of making the sign of the cross. Using the heavy, repetitive whispering as an accompaniment, Sol signaled the beginning of the boys' transformation.
"Shh, don’t even think about running away."
Just as the stage seemed to transition smoothly, Sol's face, filling the screen, suddenly twisted. Before one could even furrow their brow in reaction, Sol bent forward and disappeared from the camera angle. Spinning quickly, he retreated to the back of the lineup, revealing Tae-oh, who had been crouched behind him, making a dramatic entrance.
Like a scene from an action movie, Tae-oh leapt forward, sweeping back his hair provocatively as he took center stage. Everything had changed—the mood of the song, the lighting, and even their appearance. The neatly buttoned school uniform he had been wearing was now undone, as though it had never been fastened. Beneath the dark navy jacket, his torso was tightly restrained by leather straps. The innocent schoolboy in uniform was nowhere to be found.
As Tae-oh's figure was fully revealed under the lights, the whispers ceased, replaced by the toll of a bell that heralded the true beginning. It was the same bell sound from the start, but now it evoked a sense of tension.
Sol’s signature choreography followed. Tae-oh struck a supremely arrogant and defiant pose, twisting his body. The fitted shirt beneath the open jacket, combined with the leather straps, accentuated the sculpted lines of his physique.
Particularly striking was how, when he twisted his fingers behind his back, his shoulders pushed back, emphasizing his well-toned chest. The tension in the shirt caused the fabric around the buttons to strain. Tae-oh gazed intensely into the camera as he slowly made the sign of the cross.
Like chains tightly bound, intertwined fingers brushed against his smooth forehead, slid over the sharp bridge of his nose, and trailed downward. Passing the open gap of his slightly undone shirt, lightly tapping his shoulder, Tae-oh offered an utterly irreverent prayer.
As Tae-oh smirked devilishly, curling the corners of his lips like a mischievous imp, he stepped aside with his long legs, and Deuk-yong walked forward. The red hue of the stage lighting blended with his already fiery red hair, making it look as if it were ablaze. Beneath his navy jacket was a shirt cut cleanly in half, leaving little to the imagination.
His visuals and physique hardly seemed like those of the youngest member of the team. The short crop shirt, barely covering his chest, fluttered with every movement as Deuk-yong performed the choreography. The revealed abs underneath were a testament to the relentless effort he had poured into his craft.
As the song neared its end, Sol felt a growing sense of satisfaction. Each precise, powerful motion sent sharp pangs of pain through his arms and legs, as though his limbs might fall off. Yet, the more it hurt, the more naturally a smile spread across his face—not the kind crafted with the help of acting coaches or teammates, but the genuine smile of someone reveling in hard work and sweat.
Even as his lungs burned and breath came in short bursts, his voice remained unwavering. The more intense the choreography, the more his chest felt as if it might tear apart, like a runner nearing the finish line. Despite the strain, Sol and the members moved with even more vigor.
As the performance reached its climax, Sol felt as though he might not be able to produce another sound. If he opened his mouth now, he feared only ragged gasps would escape. But as if to chastise him, Ji-ho’s soaring, crystal-clear high note pierced through the air, striking his ears.
Following the tightly choreographed routine, Sol brushed past Deuk-yong and Tae-oh, barely grazing them, and exchanged a glance with Ga-ram, who was also tasked with the chorus. Ga-ram looked equally breathless. Taking a deep inhale, Sol opened his crimson lips wide. Just as he feared, his voice lacked strength.
Before Sol could even register the falter in his voice, other voices seamlessly filled in the gap. It was Deuk-yong and Tae-oh, who had noticed Sol’s state as they brushed past him. The added voices blended so naturally into the performance that it seemed deliberate, leaving no one the wiser to Sol’s mistake.
Sol tried not to laugh, knowing he shouldn’t, but even in the midst of this grueling moment, he felt laughter bubbling up. The silent support, the way they instinctively covered for one another without any signals or words, felt so comforting and warm that it threatened to spill into uncontrollable giggles.
Recalling the mood of the song, Sol barely managed to suppress his twitching lips and returned swiftly to the opening formation as Ji-ho’s resounding high note rang out. It was the finale. Huddled close enough to feel each other’s heavy breaths, the members sang the last line together.
“I will catch you!”
The interlude ended, and the dazzlingly flickering lights came to a stop. However, the camera continued to focus on the stage.
Although the music had ceased, Sol stared into the camera, exhaling rough breaths. His chest swelled as if it might burst, like an overinflated balloon. Even taking a deep breath didn’t seem to suffice; his lungs were not easily filled. Each time Sol gasped for air, expanding his chest, the leather strap over his shirt tightened around his body. As soon as he got off the stage, he wanted to rip it off and lean on his bandmates for support. And cold water. Sol furrowed his brows once again.
With a sharp clack, the lights flickered, and applause erupted from the other contestants and judges seated in the waiting area. Only then could Sol and the other members step off the stage.
As soon as they descended the dim stairs, Ga-ram grabbed Sol by the shoulder and turned him around.
“Sol, are you hurt?”
“Hurt?” Sol shook his head at Ga-ram's question. He wanted to say there wasn’t anything seriously wrong and that everyone had done an amazing job. However, with his breath caught at his throat, all Sol could do was pant heavily. Ga-ram, too, was out of breath. His face showed none of the joy or bittersweet emotions of finishing a performance; instead, it was filled with worry for Sol.
