Thank goodness. The word "SUCCESS" flickered before Sol, as if reassuring him. But he felt no joy. While it was a huge relief that he wouldn’t face system termination, Sol couldn’t bring himself to smile.
The belatedly tense atmosphere prompted the other judges to tack on a few words of praise, but a single criticism always cuts deeper than ten compliments. And when ten criticisms are followed by one compliment, that lone praise never quite reaches the ears.
"Didn’t you say you wanted to be a singer? If that were true, you should’ve shown improvement today. You should’ve tried harder."
Sol acknowledged his shortcomings all too well. But when Seo Seung-hoon directed his words at Ji-ho, Sol gritted his teeth. Neither Ji-ho nor any of the other members deserved such excessive harshness, he thought.
They were people who worked harder than anyone, chasing their dreams. Seo Seung-hoon’s critique of Ji-ho felt like it was cutting him down, and Sol couldn’t shake his sinking mood. He’d already gathered from earlier evaluations and exchanges that Seo Seung-hoon was renowned and skilled—but Sol couldn’t accept his judgment.
On top of that, knowing the outcome in advance thanks to the system window left him even more hollow. Sol slumped his shoulders and stared at his own feet. Then Tae-oh, standing beside him, nudged his shoulder lightly. At the contact, Sol lifted his head and fixed his gaze forward.
Logically, he knew he shouldn’t show such gloom during filming. With a slight nod, Sol turned his eyes to Seo Seung-hoon, who had set down his mic. Even Ji-ho, who had been bowing his head, straightened up and thanked Seo Seung-hoon instead.
In response to Ji-ho’s gratitude, Seo Seung-hoon waved a hand and gave a casual nod, offering no further words. Almost as soon as the emcee announced the score reveal, numbers began rapidly flashing across the screen. Today, they just looked dizzying to Sol.
Ji-ho’s hand, clasped in his, was sticky with nervous sweat. When Sol glanced at it, Ji-ho loosened his grip, worried the dampness might bother him. Already knowing the result, Sol instead rested a hand on Ji-ho’s shoulder. With gentle pats, he comforted him—this person who appeared soft but was far stronger than himself.
Watching the scores climb, Sol wished the system’s results had come later. Knowing the outcome in advance made this moment with his members feel disingenuous, and that discomfort gnawed at him. Even if it meant agonizing, he’d rather they worried, celebrated, and sighed in relief together.
Finally, the final scores appeared. They’d taken third place, nine points behind the fifth team—where Myung-ha, now ranked first, stood. *Had we been too overconfident? Sol wondered, watching Myung-ha beam triumphantly during the song selection. But he quickly shook his head. It wasn’t bias; today’s performance didn’t deserve such criticism. Suddenly, he recalled what Ji-ho had said outside the bathroom earlier.
"No matter what others think or say, in the end, what you feel and believe is what matters." That phrase, which Sol had once heard, fit so perfectly it almost felt like it had foreseen this moment. Being self-righteous wasn’t good, but Sol needed a little of that self-righteousness now. Otherwise, he might have retreated back into the closet. Remembering those words Sol had spoken to him with warm eyes and a gentle voice, he decided to evaluate today’s performance based on his own feelings.
We did well enough. Ji-ho was as incredible as ever, and next time, we’ll do even better. Sol repeated those words to himself over and over until his heavy mood began to lift. Myung-ha had chosen to perform Hit’s <First Love>, flashing a bright smile. When it was Sol’s turn to pick the third song, he and the members were lucky enough to secure JUICY’s <HUSH>, which they’d prioritized. Getting the song they wanted lifted some of the stifling weight in his chest.
After that, the group and individual interview recordings continued. Even as they wrapped up and tidied the waiting room, the cameras lingered, especially on Ji-ho—the crew seemed determined to capture his reaction to the harsh criticism. As filming dragged on, Tae-oh grew anxious that Sol’s somber expression might stay on screen too long, so he subtly pushed him out of frame or blocked him whenever he could.
It wasn’t until they were in the van, finally free of cameras, that Deuk-yong exploded. His words spilled out rapid and sharp, like a rap verse. Sol stayed silent—there was no need to add anything. Deuk-yong had already said everything Sol wanted to, scratching the itch in his heart raw.
“Sorry, guys. I kinda lost it back there.”
“Why are you apologizing, Ji-ho hyung? Next time, we’ll crush them.”
Though Deuk-yong’s words lacked a subject, everyone knew exactly who he meant. For a moment, the five members exchanged glances, then smirked and nodded in unison. They agreed completely.
“Third place is still amazing, but none of us are satisfied, right? Let’s not let this get us down.”
Tae-oh clapped each of them on the shoulder as he spoke. Ga-ram shrugged, then smiled lazily and shared his thoughts on today’s stage.
“I thought we did great today.”
“Me too.”
“No question—we were the best!”
“Exactly.”
When Sol chimed in, Deuk-yong and Tae-oh nodded along. Even Ji-ho, who had been hunched over, straightened up and lifted his head. He was still grinning, ever the sly fox, but beneath that smile lingered something like guilt toward the others.
"Seriously. The next mission is outright performance-based. And since we’ve got two dance prodigies on our team, there’s nothing to worry about. This mission was made for us. Let’s take back first place."
But it was short-lived. The members burst into laughter at Deuk-yong’s enthusiastic shout, fist clenched tightly. No trace of dark emotions remained on Ji-ho’s face. As he ruffled Deuk-yong’s hair, Ji-ho flashed a bright smile, as if shaking off the unpleasant criticism. Sol thought he glimpsed sincerity in Ji-ho’s laughter—but Ji-ho’s chest felt tight. Seo Seung-hoon was just a temporary guest judge, after all. The real irritant was Kim Myung-ha.
Sol wasn’t the type to be swayed by Kim Myung-ha’s words and drift away from Ji-ho, but Ji-ho hated even the thought of Kim Myung-ha greeting Sol. It felt like catching a whiff of something foul. Even after filming ended, the memory of Kim Myung-ha shamelessly approaching Sol made Ji-ho’s head throb.
Ji-ho slightly furrowed his brows and pressed his fingertips against his temples. The gesture betrayed his discomfort, but Sol failed to notice—just then, a new quest notification popped up.
<Quest: Time to Move!>
Your performance is highly anticipated. Secure a rank of 2nd place or higher in the <My Idol Stars> 3rd Round Dance Mission.
*Bonus Mission: Perform 2+ acrobatic moves during the 3rd Round stage.
Success Reward: 3rd Round Reward Box (Bonus Mission Reward: Random Concept Gold Ticket x1)
Failure Penalty: System Shutdown (or equivalent suffering)
Sol paused at the "2nd place or higher" condition. If today’s results repeated, this quest would mark the end of his journey. The bar had been raised, but at least it was a dance mission—a small mercy. Or was the difficulty higher because it was a dance mission? Sol’s lips twisted slightly. Just as he adapted to the quests, their difficulty seemed to spike.
As a crease formed between Sol’s brows—mirroring Ji-ho’s earlier expression—the driver’s door opened, and Young-ho slid into the car. Watching him grip the wheel with a muttered "Good work," Sol set aside his worries and closed his eyes. Even with the Stability Potion’s effects, the motion of the car and the blur of passing scenery weighed on him.
Tae-oh stared silently at Sol, who had burrowed into his seat and shut his eyes. From the backseat, Deuk-yong’s grumbling drifted in—"I’m fine, just tired. Can we go to the hospital tomorrow morning?"
Sol didn’t sleep the entire ride back to the dorm. He just stiffened with each sway of the car. When Young-ho suddenly called his name, Sol pretended to be asleep. Even as Ga-ram’s drowsy voice chimed in—"Sol’s sleeping."—he ignored it, feigning deafness.
"Oh? Sol’s graduation ceremony…?"
"When is it?"
Ga-ram quickly asked in response to Yeong-ho’s words. As the murmuring conversation continued, Sol stayed quiet, pretending to sleep while listening to the members and Yeong-ho talk.
"The day after tomorrow. He said he wasn’t going, but… I thought it’d be good for him to spend time with his friends before promotions start in earnest."
"Sol hyung, you’re not going to graduation?" Deuk-yong suddenly cut into Ga-ram and Yeong-ho’s conversation.
"He said it’s annoying and bothersome—asked if he could just pick up his diploma separately instead."
Graduation. To Sol, it was a meaningless event. Not long ago, he’d run into CEO Baek Yoo-chan again in the hallway, and as the blank void of Yoo-chan’s face finally filled in, Sol accepted the truth: Yoo-chan and Ju-hwan weren’t here. They just looked alike—both were entirely different people.
Once he accepted that, even the faintest lingering attachment to school vanished. Sol had never had friends there aside from Yoo-chan and Ju-hwan, so without them, there was no one Yeong-ho’s "spend time with" could refer to. He’d already come to terms with it long ago, so meeting CEO Baek Yoo-chan or spending time with Eun-gyeom didn’t stir the same emotional turmoil as before.
That same day, Sol told Yeong-ho he was giving up on college and wouldn’t attend graduation—he’d just visit his homeroom teacher separately later. Yeong-ho, regretful about Sol dropping out, asked if it wouldn’t be better to keep studying despite the difficulty. But for once, Sol was firm. He had no regrets about leaving. The time he’d spent there had only made him lonelier and more hurt. Even if things were different now, he had no desire to return to a place so full of painful memories.
