Little Pink Starfish

He looked confident.

Well, fair enough.

He has ears—he must’ve felt satisfied with how it turned out during practice.

There’s no question that Slow Down doesn’t really suit an idol survival show, but Koo Taehwan was about to do something fun.

He performed the song at 1.8x speed.

Yep, that was my idea.

When I had him try out a few of his chosen songs, they all felt a little too safe.

But I liked the way he played with rhythm, so I suggested picking an ultra-slow song and speeding it up. This is the one he chose.

And the result was…

“Wow, that was really impressive. Totally different from what we saw in the pre-mission.”
“At first, the fast version felt a little awkward, but I got completely sucked in after a while.”
“If we ignore a few pitch handling issues, the stage had a ton of charm.”
“Was that chorus choreography original? It really matched the song.”

Scores: 9, 8, 8, 8 – total 33 points.

Personally, I hope Taehwan gets into Team B and takes the opening line.

An opener needs to hook you from the first second—and Taehwan has that kind of voice.

It’s clear and bright, but with a subtle metallic edge. Tasty.

Actually, I might bump my evaluation of him up a bit.

While I was thinking that, I heard my name come out of his mouth.

“So, contestant Han Si-on recommended this song to you?”
“Yes, he helped me a lot.”
“How did that happen? You’re both contestants.”

The camera turned toward me—seems like this interview is going to run long.

Guess I’ll be talking about my stage, Flowers Bloom, and Taehwan.

That’s fine.

After all, the reason I came on Coming Up Next was to get my name out in the entertainment industry.

---

The final performer—the 10th—was none other than On Saemiro, a vocalist with undeniable talent.

“Started with Han Si-on, ending with On Saemiro.”
“A perfect bookend, huh?”
“Yeah, poetic.”

The judges quietly agreed: Saemiro had been robbed of the spotlight thanks to Han Si-on.

Without him, she would’ve received much more praise.

She has real vocal talent and nothing to nitpick about her visuals.

If they had to find a flaw, it’d be that her skin was slightly uneven—maybe from too much time outdoors?

“Honestly, On Saemiro feels like a better fit for a boy group main vocal.”
“That’s true. Her personality’s still a mystery, but she doesn’t seem difficult.”

In contrast, Han Si-on has this vague discomfort about him.

He doesn’t seem like someone who follows instructions easily, but you also can’t overpower him with authority.

He doesn’t act rebellious or arrogant—there’s just something… distant.

“He has this way of looking down on people. I don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it.”

That was Blue’s impression—he, of all people, had talked to Si-on the most.

Still, every judge knew one thing:

If they were running their own entertainment company and had the chance to recruit Han Si-on?

They’d do it—without hesitation.

Even if he was a poison chalice—they’d take a sip.

That’s how magnetic his music is.

“But do we need a rivalry inside Team B?”

Yoo Sunhwa asked.

Choi Tae-ho shook his head.

“Let’s not pit Saemiro and Si-on directly against each other. The real competition is with Take Scene, anyway.”

“That may be, but they’ll be comparing themselves no matter what. Maybe they already are.”

“Okay. Then we’ll just avoid mentioning it outright.”

Just as the judges finalized their tone for feedback, On Saemiro took the stage.

“Huh?”

Her song choice was surprising:

.

A rock ballad that swept Korea in the early 2000s and won multiple awards.

The judges’ tablets lit up with the track listing—it was Lee Hyunseok’s signature song, back when he still performed before founding LB Studio.

“She picked that?”

It’s a great song, loved by generations and often covered.

She’d probably do well.

But…

*“Is it a good *choice?”

Not really.

Han Si-on’s pre-mission song, Under the Streetlamp, was too powerful.

Anything in the same category would feel weak by comparison.

That’s not to say Saemiro’s Toothbrush would be worse than Si-on’s version of Toothbrush—it might even be better.

But beating Si-on’s Under the Streetlamp?

Unlikely.

Why?

Because Si-on only sang the first verse.

Humans tend to imagine the missing parts of things as ideal.

That’s why people look hotter in masks—we imagine what we can’t see in the best possible way.

So Saemiro isn’t competing with Si-on’s actual performance.

She’s competing with the imagined “rest” of Under the Streetlamp people created in their minds.

How powerful that image is? Well, PD Kang Seok-woo wanted to release it as a digital single immediately after the pre-mission. That says a lot.

“I like her ambition to beat Si-on… but I don’t think she realizes what she’s up against.”

“On Saemiro, are you ready?”

“I am.”

“Let’s hear it.”

Her performance was solid.

She brought out the emotional core of Toothbrush, and her high notes in the climax were legit.

But that was it.

She was good—but not uniquely so.

And since she clearly wanted to showcase her vocals, she did almost no dancing.

“Your vocals were impressive, but the song choice was a little underwhelming.”
“It’s time to start thinking about what makes you stand out—and how to show that.”
“You gave up visual appeal to focus on vocals. But the singing alone didn’t dominate the stage.”

Scores: 8, 8, 8, 7 – total 31 points.

She tied for third, right behind Koo Taehwan (33 points).

---

After the first main round ended, CEO Choi Tae-ho gave the group an “off the record” lecture.

Saying things like “I don’t feel the hunger” or “Do you really think you can compete with Team A like this?”

But based on my broadcast experience?

This isn’t off the record.

Most of the cameras may be off, but the full-cam that catches contestant reactions is definitely rolling.

And judging by the language Choi Tae-ho used, this wasn’t off-the-cuff.

If it were really off the record, he’d be dropping F-bombs and a few mother—never mind. Maybe that’s too American.

Anyway, I get where he’s coming from.

I don’t know much about idols, but yeah—the whole vibe of the group felt off.

Only one person really showed their potential on stage: Koo Taehwan.

The rest? Just floating.

And honestly, that’s 50% my fault and 50% the show’s weird structure.

Coming Up Next is not a typical idol survival program.

Usually, such shows evaluate contestants based on a clear “idol” framework.

Not, “Show us what you’ve got.”

More like, “Here’s the idol track. Let’s see how well you run it.”

But Coming Up Next is structurally odd.

Take Scene is meant to debut—but Team B needs to seem more talented.

So when they selected Team B, they focused on musical talent rather than idol potential.

And I was the exclamation mark at the end of that strategy.

People like On Saemiro saw me and thought: “That’s the right answer.”

Without me, the vibe would’ve leaned more idol-like.

More traditional.

But…

“….”

This is kinda unfair.

I joined Coming Up Next to fast-track my idol education—and now everyone’s acting different because of me?

Maybe things’ll shift once Team B is finalized.

While I was thinking, the camera vibe returned to “on the record.”

Blue took the stage to announce the next round.

“Does anyone know where the phrase ‘being selected’—‘nakjeom’—comes from?”

I know the word, but not the origin.

Cut me some slack—I’m an ancient American at heart.

“It comes from Joseon Dynasty, when the king chose high-ranking officials by placing a dot—jeom—above their names.”

So the judges have been “dotting” names.

Four dots = pass?

Or maybe eight dots since there are two stages?

Blue clarified:

“In short: if you get selected by four judges across both stages, you pass.”

A pretty generous system.

Even if you only get two marks in the first stage, getting two more in the second gets you in.

The point? Don’t lose hope.

If this were a point-based system, bombing round one would doom you.

But not with dots.

Even with zero in round one, a perfect second stage can still save you.

Still, why use the term nakjeom?

Wouldn’t “all pass” have better flair?

Feels like this rule was improvised.

If it were official, why score the performances so hard?

As Blue finished, questions came flying.

“Can one judge give two dots, since there are two rounds?”
“No. One dot per judge, total.”
“What if more than five people get four dots?”
“Then we’ll deliberate. Possibly ask for extra performances. But anyone who gets four in the first round automatically passes.”

So a perfect first round = guaranteed pass.

I’m in for sure. Taehwan might be, too.

And if looks are factored in, Lee Ieon could make it. His performance wasn’t bad.

Difficult voice tone for a team—but fine as a solo.

“Now let’s talk about how we’ll form the teams for the second mission.”

Team formation was simple:

1st & 2nd, 3rd & 4th, 5th & 6th, 7th & 8th, 9th & 10th would each play rock-paper-scissors.

Winners form one team, losers another.

No silly mini-games—just straight to it.

Which meant I, first place with 39 points, had to play against second place Taehwan (33 points).

The result…

• Winning Team:
  Han Si-on, On Saemiro, Choi Jae-sung, Kim Sung-woo, Shim Joo-wan.
• Losing Team:
  Koo Taehwan, Lee Ieon, Kim Hae-woon, Nam Seong-il, Park Sung-joo.

It’s an awkward setup.

“Are trades allowed? That team has too many rappers…”

Like the voice said—Team “Losers” had way too many rappers.

Of the ten contestants, rappers were Kim Hae-woon, Nam Seong-il, Park Sung-joo—all on the losing team.

Even Taehwan, who’s technically a vocalist, sang in a rap tempo.

After a brief judge huddle, they confirmed:

No trades.

Surprising, but they probably see this as a good test setup.

“For the second mission, you’ll be covering songs by senior boy groups. Keep in mind—this time, choreography will be scored separately. So choose carefully.”

Theme for round two: Cover Performance.