Little Pink Starfish

“We now reveal the positions for SeDalBaekIl.”

Even though I’d turned my back on and forgotten a lot about the idol world, I still remembered the concept of positions.

Main vocal, lead vocal, sub-vocal.

First, second, third.

Rappers and dancers get ranked the same way too.

Actually—was there even such a thing as a sub-dancer?

Maybe not. Since all idols have to dance anyway?

In English-speaking countries, they don’t really separate main vocal and lead vocal.

They used to call the frontman of a band the “lead vocalist,” and “main vocalist” was a term you hardly heard.

Over time, “lead” and “main” started getting used interchangeably.

But in Korea, especially in the idol scene, it seems like those titles are used to clearly rank vocal ability.

But what if there’s no clear skill gap?

Are there teams with two main vocals?

Gotta look that up on Namuwiki later.

Also—why do people call Namuwiki “Kkamuwiki” anyway?

“Eh, I’ll just ask Choi Jaesung later.”

As I was thinking that, the positions were revealed.

---

SeDalBaekIl
On Saemiro: Main Vocal
Lee Ion: Lead Vocal
Goo Taehwan: Lead Vocal / Main Rapper
Han Si-on: Leader / Sub-vocal
Choi Jaesung: Main Dancer / Sub-vocal

---

I’m not even the main vocal—I’m just sub-vocal?

By common standards, that means I’m considered worse than the main and lead vocals.

But that can’t be right.

I’m fully confident in my skills.

Let’s be honest.

Maybe not now, but in two years, no singer in Korea will have a higher overall score than me.

I say “overall score” because there are singers who might exceed me in specific areas.

Like higher high notes or lower low notes.

But if you rate singers as a whole—I’m number one. No contest.

Even now, at this moment.

No one in this gym—not Blue, not Yoo Seon-hwa, not Lee Chang-jun, not CEO Choi Dae-ho—has a deeper understanding of music or sings better than I do.

So after a moment of puzzlement, I just shrugged it off.

“They probably just need a certain ‘scene’ for the broadcast.”

The more I think about it, this might actually be a good thing.

What I want is a quick debut after Coming Up Next ends.

If I show I can take on any role the team needs without complaint, it’ll help me.

And I’m still the team leader—I have influence over everything anyway.

Yeah. Let’s show professionalism.

Talent can’t be hidden even if I tried, so if the show wants to treat me like an underdog, great.

Wouldn’t it be cool to see me kill a “nothing” part?

Maybe I should stir the pot a little with CEO Choi.

What would get under his skin?

As I’m thinking that, TakeScene’s positions are announced.

---

TakeScene
Jooyeon: Main Vocal
SeeU: Leader / Lead Vocal
Fade: Lead Vocal / Lead Rapper
iLevel: Main Dancer / Sub-vocal
Ready: Main Rapper / Sub-vocal

---

Well, their positions were probably decided a while ago.

I guess I’ll go up against iLevel or Ready?

Would’ve loved to crush Fade again.

“If anyone has objections to their assigned position, now is the time to speak up.”

As Choi Dae-ho said that, I could feel all the SeDalBaekIl members looking at me.

Especially On Saemiro—his gaze was intense, and this time, I could read it loud and clear.

“What are you doing? Hurry up and complain.”

He’s got a bit of that tsundere vibe.

The production staff and CEO Choi also seemed like they were waiting for me to say something.

Well, I do have something to say here.

I raised my hand, and Choi pointed at me like he’d been waiting.

“Yes. Go ahead, contestant Han Si-on.”

“I think there’s a mistake in my position.”

“Which part, specifically?”

“I think the leader position should go to Lee Ion, since he’s the oldest.”

“…”

“Please reconsider.”

What’s with the looks?

Isn’t it a rule in audition shows to refuse the leader spot once before accepting it?

---

Han Si-on never once mentioned the sub-vocal thing.

Even when the camera and writer who usually followed him pulled him aside and asked directly (off-camera, albeit still filming from afar):

“Do you think you can be a good leader?”

“Y-yeah. I think I’ll do well. It suits me.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you okay with being sub-vocal?”

“Of course. I love it.”

“Why?”

“Why do I need a reason? Every idol group has sub-vocals, and they shine just as bright.”

The writer trembled as she returned to the PD.

There’s no way they could say sub-vocals aren’t important—not with so many idol group fans watching.

ZERO from DropOut is a sub-vocal, and he hit #1 on the charts four times with solo tracks.

Major-han from NOP is also a sub-vocal—his debut album got critical acclaim as a polished R&B release.

“He’s got nerves of steel. I’m not bringing it up again.”

“Did you see that face? No opening to poke at.”

“Not even if we try nudging a little?”

“Nudge what? He’s made of titanium. My nails would break before his ego cracks.”

“Ugh, now I’m imagining it—me saying, ‘But sub-vocal is kind of…’ and getting dragged by every idol fan in the country.”

Those were the words of the writer and head writer who went to talk to Han Si-on.

Their interpretation wasn’t exactly what Si-on was thinking—but it wasn’t wrong either.

He genuinely didn’t care about being sub-vocal.

But he was carefully managing his reactions so viewers wouldn’t think poorly of him.

Ultimately, the production team decided to delay getting any dramatic reaction from him—and resumed filming.

Their new strategy: wait until everyone’s tired, then try pulling out some real emotions.

Next was the “self-introduction stage.”

TakeScene and SeDalBaekIl hadn’t seen each other perform properly yet.

Some heard each other sing during the karaoke mission, but that barely counted.

Since they’d be competing for a while, it was time to size each other up.

Han Si-on chose a relatively new song—released just a year ago.

SINCE – “Never Just Playing Around”

A catchy, easy-listening track that gave the unknown group SINCE a moment of mainstream recognition.

It even hit #1 on the digital chart for a day, and landed in the top 50 for the month.

But aside from that one song, the group totally flopped—and the song’s stage performance was terrible, so it never gained a fandom.

So when Si-on picked this song, people tilted their heads.

It is a good song.

Even people who never heard of SINCE probably know the chorus, just from how often it played in public.

But the original stage was awful.

Even the music video and choreography were cringe.

The song’s confession of “I was never just playing around” came across as…

“So embarrassing it made you sit in stunned silence.”

The SINCE members were trying way too hard in the MV—over-the-top gestures, fake sexiness, just… ugh.

Top comment on the official MV said:

• “If someone confessed to me like this, even a 1000-year crush would fizzle out lol”
• “Anyone who likes this must be a masochist who enjoys secondhand embarrassment.”

Those comments got taken down fast, but they had already gone viral as memes.

So Si-on’s song choice seemed odd.

It’d look weird just standing still. But changing a senior group’s choreo would be even worse.

But then…

Light touches, risky jokes
Blank expressions, pretending it means nothing
But I—
I was never
Just playing around

On stage, Han Si-on was graceful. Perfect.

He performed only half the choreography.

Not like half-hearted dancing—he let his upper body sway subtly while executing full footwork. Clean. Controlled.

There’s a part in the chorus where you’re supposed to spin around the girl like a lunatic.

Si-on just smiled faintly and kept his movements minimal—but his footwork was silky.

What once felt like awkward desperation now looked like genuine shyness.

Of course, this kind of performance had risks.

Doing “half” the choreo? Easy to criticize.

• “What, the senior group’s choreo was too cringe for him? Just outright showing it, huh?”
• “This guy never respects the original songs. Just full of himself.”

Idols are easy targets for people who want to hate on someone.

But in this case? It was complicated.

Because—

When spring comes (comes) I (I)
Want to see the flowers—with you (with you)

This insane guy copied every single vocal part from the original 7-member group.

Even though the MR was rushed and the AR still had gaps, he filled in the harmonies perfectly.

Watching him power through an airtight song with no breathing room, people were stunned.

Hard to complain about lack of dancing at that point.

Or rather—you could complain if you wanted to, but…

• “Did someone hold a knife to this guy’s neck? How does he not skip a single word lol”
• “Knife-point singing technique, wtf”
• “Ah yes, Idol Slayer. This is what respect for seniors looks like.”
• “Oh, that’s an AR part? Lemme just perfectly copy your harmonies real quick.”
• “Oh, two-part harmony? I’ll just be both.”
• “Music psycho. Unreal.”
• “SINCE fans are mad about the choreo? LOL. Let the overthinkers be.”

There was no room left for anyone to feel awkward or disconnected.

Of course, if he’d messed up even a little, the performance would’ve bombed and he’d have gotten roasted.

But in the end, skill reigns supreme.

Pretending it was nothing but I—
I was never
Just playing around

Subtle control, clear high notes, precise enunciation.

Expressing emotion through those tools.

Even though the song was house-based easy listening—not a genre that’s easy to “show off” in—Han Si-on made it feel like a designer masterpiece.

He made your heart flutter.

The writers watching his performance looked completely defeated.

“This is a protest, right? Like, ‘Even after this, I’m still just sub-vocal?’”

“I knew he was intense, but this…”

“That was a masterclass in passive-aggressive domination…”

And so, amid a bit of misunderstanding, Han Si-on’s self-introduction stage came to a close.