The staff came to the waiting room and asked Yeong-ho about Deuk-yong’s condition. Once it was confirmed there were no major issues, the temporarily halted filming resumed. Either way, since they’d taken up so many people’s time, Yeong-ho and the others apologized as they entered the set.
Ironically, the one who greeted the members most warmly—asking if they were okay, if anyone was seriously hurt—was Myung-ha, the same person who had cursed at Ji-ho earlier. As Sol passed by him, he found it hard to smile.
Not that he was the type to openly scowl, but he also wasn’t the type to force a natural smile like Ji-ho. For once, Sol walked past Myung-ha with an expression as blank as Tae-oh’s. He could feel eyes burning into the back of his head, and he ducked his chin slightly. Now that he was aware of it, he couldn’t help but wonder if everyone here was hiding the same thoughts as Myung-ha.
They were all smiling, but what if, deep down, they were mocking or cursing at one of them—or even him? The thought spiraled in his mind. Uncomfortable, Sol kept his gaze down, avoiding the faces of the other teams crowding the room.
“You’ve all worked hard preparing for this incredible performance,” the emcee said as Sol and the members took their seats. In truth, the cameras had already been rolling the moment the members arrived late. Sol fixed his eyes on the emcee, deliberately avoiding the other contestants—especially Myung-ha. He didn’t dare glance in his direction, even by accident.
“Unlike the last meeting, today’s scores for the first mission will be combined with the second mission’s results to determine which teams advance to the live broadcast stage.”
The emcee’s tone was heavy, setting the mood. In short, the previous stage had just been a warm-up—the real competition started today. Since this had already been explained during the last filming, Sol nodded out of habit.
“Everyone wants to make it to the ‘real’ stage, but not all of you can advance to the live broadcast.”
The emcee’s grave delivery continued. It was a line meant to tighten the contestants’ chests with tension, but Sol felt nothing. After constantly facing life-or-death missions rather than mere live broadcasts, the emcee’s words didn’t faze him. Each time the emcee spoke, the room erupted in exaggerated murmurs. Even Ji-ho, seated beside Sol, let out soft sighs or reactions like the others.
“Well then—are you ready to see your scores?”
By now, Sol nodded reflexively, like a student robotically responding to a principal’s speech on the last day of school. Replies came from all directions, but perhaps because he was hyperaware—amid the voices, Myung-ha’s stood out, whining playfully, “Nooo~ Can’t we all just hold hands and go to the live broadcast together?”
Without realizing it, Sol almost turned his head toward the direction of Myung-ha’s voice but stiffened his body and kept his gaze fixed on the stage.
“Before that, I’ll first explain the details of the second mission.”
The emcee burst into laughter at the participants’ groans and stretched a hand outward. In sync with his gesture, a panel with written text appeared on stage.
“For the second mission, two teams will compete against each other performing the same song. The teams who ranked higher in today’s first mission will get to choose their songs in order.”
Almost before the emcee finished speaking, Ji-ho, seated beside Sol, turned his head—first toward Sol, then sweeping his gaze over Ga-ram, Tae-oh, and Deuk-yong lined up next to him. Ga-ram, as if struggling to see, furrowed his brows slightly and stared at the unfamiliar panel now displayed on stage.
“However, there are seven participating teams in <My Idol Stars>. The team that ranked first in today’s mission will be granted a special privilege: they won’t compete against another team but will perform solo.”
It was a significant advantage. No matter how differently two teams interpreted the same song, comparisons would be inevitable. Of course, those comparisons could work in their favor—or backfire. Choosing a song solo, without direct competition, was far safer. The emcee added that teams could decline the privilege, but there was no need to ask. No winner here would refuse.
Though their own ranking was still unknown, they had to quickly discuss song choices, accounting for every possibility. Preparing for the worst—second-to-last or even last place—was pointless anyway. They’d just have to take whatever song remained. The other teams seemed equally distracted, barely listening to the emcee as they exchanged glances.
Ji-ho leaned forward, looking at Ga-ram and Tae-oh. For Sol, who’d had zero interest in pop music before being abruptly thrust into trainee life, the song titles and artists listed were entirely unfamiliar. Maybe he’d heard a few, but he couldn’t match the titles to the melodies. Knowing nothing about music, Sol had no choice but to follow Ji-ho’s lead and watch Ga-ram and Tae-oh.
Tae-oh dragged his fingertips along his jaw and let out a thoughtful hum. He scanned the songs on the large panel, weighing which choice would best suit him and his teammates. All were dance tracks—fast-tempo, intense beats. The catch? They weren’t recent hits but older, past-their-prime songs. Some might’ve been popular in their parents’ era.
Seeing the others concentrating, Sol straightened his posture and stared at the stage, but he could only stay silent. He’d thought he’d listened to plenty of songs during training, but no matter how hard he scanned the titles and artists, none rang a bell.
“Let’s at least decide our priorities.”
Tae-oh, sensing the members’ eyes gathering on him, stepped forward.
"Yeah. How about Hit’s <First Love>? It’s the newest track out of these."
"But won’t its original bright, energetic vibe feel too overpowering? No matter how we rearrange it, the original’s image might still dominate. I think JB’s <Friday Night> would work better."
As soon as Tae-oh finished speaking, Ji-ho, as if he’d already prepared his thoughts, was the first to voice his opinion. However, Ga-ram expressed concern after hearing Ji-ho’s words. The debate continued, but Sol, who knew little about the topic, had nothing to add.
He almost wished they could’ve known the quest results in advance, like last time during the face-to-face meeting. If they’d known their ranking, maybe it could’ve helped ease the members’ current struggles. But Sol quickly brushed the thought away. Even if they ranked first, what would he even say to them? "We’re number one, so just pick whatever song you want!"—he couldn’t say something like that, could he? It was a pointless thought.
Besides, if they ranked below third place, this whole discussion would be useless anyway. Still, Sol wasn’t too worried. His gut feeling was good, and unlike before, he felt confident. He wasn’t certain about first place, but he believed they could aim for a high rank. While Sol quietly gauged their possible ranking, Tae-oh spoke up, as if things had been settled somewhat.
"What about Jusis’ <HUSH>?"
"Not bad. Actually, it might be the best choice. And personally, I’d rather avoid <Clover>."
"I agree with Ga-ram’s opinion too."
"Alright."
Though no song stood out immediately, Ga-ram, Deuk-yong, and Ji-ho nodded at Tae-oh’s suggestion. Other teams seemed deep in discussion as well—murmurs and whispers drifted from all around.
"Then, let’s prioritize <HUSH> and <Friday Night>, with <First Love> after that. <Clover>? goes at the bottom."
Tae-oh finalized the members’ opinions. As the discussion neared its end, the others turned their attention to Sol, who still hadn’t spoken. Caught off guard by the sudden stares, Sol hurriedly nodded.
"Uh—yeah. I’m fine with it."
If this mission ended successfully, he made a mental note to listen to more music and study it. He wanted to be more helpful and have deeper conversations with the members. The noise around them gradually quieted, as if the other teams were narrowing down their choices too.
"Well then—are you all ready to check your real scores now?"
The emcee, who had waited patiently, smiled meaningfully and posed another question. This time, without a word, everyone responded with solemn nods of agreement. Sol, too, gave a firm, slight nod. They had worked harder than during their last performance—not that they had approached the previous stage lightly, but this time, Sol had poured even more passion into it, as many of their own ideas had been incorporated.
The members had supported and encouraged Sol a great deal. There had been a minor mishap, but Sol didn’t consider it a problem. They had watched the other teams’ performances from the waiting room and concluded that neither the members nor themselves fell short in comparison to any of the other contestants. No—in Sol’s eyes, their own team shone the brightest. After all, favoritism runs deep.
We can take first place.
It was an uncharacteristically bold thought for Sol. But they swallowed that surge of determination and turned their gaze to the emcee introducing the judges. This confidence stemmed from their attachment to the performance and their affection for the members—but also, in no small part, from the urge to flatten Myung-ha’s nose for all the chatter about Ji-ho. For Sol, all of this was a positive change.
As Sol scanned the judges—their second time facing them—they belatedly noticed an unfamiliar figure seated at the far end. Their curiosity was short-lived, as the emcee promptly introduced the mystery guest.
“Please welcome our special judge, Seo Seung-hoon!”
The contestants erupted into enthusiastic applause at the emcee’s booming announcement. Sol tilted their head and glanced at Ji-ho. The sudden wave of clapping drowned out most sounds, but for a moment, it seemed Ji-ho had muttered something. Must be someone famous, Sol thought, clapping along half-heartedly before leaning toward Ji-ho to ask:
“What did you say, Ji-ho hyung?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Huh?”
“……”
The abrupt apology left Sol bewildered, but Ji-ho stayed silent. Instead, he turned his head slightly toward where Kim Myung-ha was seated. Myung-ha was grinning broadly, clapping with exaggerated vigor.
