The members hesitated for a second, then gave relaxed smiles and nodded.
“Of course we knew. You’ve been walking around with that guilty face—how could we not notice?”
Me?
I was acting.
“Please, it was obvious,” Jaesung chimed in.
In the end, I had no choice but to admit it.
I already suspected I’d been more emotional than usual.
“How much did you figure out? And how?”
“Well, we were already sure the production team was pushing TakeScene… but that’s not how we realized it.”
“Then how?”
“You were acting a little off. Doing everything like normal, but you felt stiff. Not hostile, more like a turtle pulling into its shell.”
“…”
“That’s when Taehwan caught on.”
Taehwan, huh?
He is quick on the uptake.
But SaeDalBaekIl hadn’t guessed the full truth.
“So you’re the only one debuting from SaeDalBaekIl, right?”
From their perspective, that was the logical conclusion.
So I told them the real story.
When I said I’d be debuting with TakeScene, Taehwan made a confused sound.
“TakeScene? Seriously?”
“I didn’t see that coming… Will things go smoothly? You were competing with them just a while ago.”
“Forget that—what about Fade? Aren’t you two like, the worst possible match?”
Something felt off.
They’d already accepted the idea of me debuting with TakeScene like it was a done deal.
Probably because of that conversation:
“Sion, did you come on this show so your parents could hear you sing from the hospital?”
“Something like that. That’s why I want to debut as soon as possible.”
It was a casual line to me. Not even something that makes me sad anymore.
But they didn’t take it that way.
They considered my situation more seriously than their own.
And that’s not easy.
I’ve met a lot of people, and I’ve learned one thing about empathy:
You can only truly consider others when your own situation is secure.
Most people need to know they won’t suffer for showing kindness.
So what does that say about SaeDalBaekIl?
They know that my debut has damaged their own airtime.
Then Onsaemiro spoke up.
“Don’t worry about it. Us, or the viewers.”
“The viewers?”
“I mean no one’s going to blame you.”
“No way. People who were cheering for SaeDalBaekIl are gonna hate me.”
I won’t be hurt by it—but I’m sure it’ll happen.
But Onsaemiro gave a confident smile, uncharacteristic of him.
“We don’t think so.”
I didn’t get what he meant.
A moment of silence passed. In that moment, I made a decision.
“Alright. Then can I tell you what I think?”
“Your thoughts? About what?”
“First, do you know what the duet stage really means?”
“Isn’t it just a celebration?”
“Nope.”
When I explained what I figured out, the members were clearly shaken.
“How do you even catch stuff like that?”
“It’s obvious. You want me to tell you the meaning behind the free song mission too?”
“That has meaning too?”
“Lion’s been grooming TakeScene with a lot of ambition. Their debut track is Scene Stealer, but do you think that’s the only one they prepared?”
Definitely not.
They probably collected dozens of songs, narrowed it down to two or three, and agonized over the final pick.
“There’s a high chance they’ll sing one of those songs. Maybe even the track that comes after their debut single.”
With Coming Up Next generating this much buzz, they can afford to test the waters.
Come to think of it, maybe the reason they subtly discouraged me from doing an original was because they would be performing new, unreleased songs too.
It’d look weird if both stages featured unfamiliar tracks.
“In other words, no matter what we do, the final episode will air with TakeScene as the winners. Even if they have to fabricate scenes to do it.”
“Yeah… that makes sense.”
“But.”
I looked around at the team.
“I want us to win in person. To the point where 2,000 audience members tilt their heads in confusion. To the point where they refuse to accept the judges’ evaluations. To the point where the viewer bulletin boards are flooded with protest posts afterward.”
That’s how I really feel.
I like SaeDalBaekIl better than TakeScene.
I want to see them succeed.
Even if I disappear, I want there to be a moment where their potential blooms.
A milestone they can use to climb to the top.
Of course, I know this is ultimately self-serving—just a way to ease my own guilt.
No matter how I feel, I won’t reject the fastest path to debut.
But if my self-satisfaction can also become their satisfaction…
“Then let’s go all in. Let’s completely destroy TakeScene.”
That sounds good to me.
The judges picked the songs for the duet stages.
“Taehwan and Ready will be singing this…”
Just as I expected, even the parts were pre-assigned.
As SaeDalBaekIl and TakeScene got to work on their duet rehearsals, I began arranging the song we’d use for our final mission.
At the same time, I started training the members.
I’d always held back in front of the cameras so I wouldn’t come off as arrogant, but now? Doesn’t matter anymore.
Coming Up Next has to send Han Sion off looking perfect and polished to Lion Entertainment.
No way they’ll air any footage that makes me look bad.
The person I invested the most training time into was Iion.
He only has two bars—but they’re the hardest.
“First, you have to train your ear. You can’t produce the right sound if you can’t hear it properly.”
I sat him in front of a piano and pressed the keys slowly.
“What notes do you think these are?”
“Uh… C, E, A, G?”
“Correct. Nice. Now let’s try two combined tones.”
“…F and D?”
“Now for half steps.”
Turns out Iion had some ear training experience.
He’d apparently prepared for an arts university entrance exam at one point.
“How’d you end up in an agency then?”
“I started studying practical music, which is what you do to prep for auditions… practical music academy.”
“I do know what that is, you know.”
By then, the rest of the SaeDalBaekIl members started gathering around.
Guess they were curious about Iion’s life story.
His reason for joining a company wasn’t anything special.
“Because of my looks.”
“…Hyung, you’re the king of being shameless in the most shameless way.”
“Yeah. At least Sion brags honestly.”
Me? I’ve never bragged.
But why he left the company? That was more serious.
“They kept trying to drag me to drinking parties. Pushed back rehearsals for that.”
“Drinking parties with…?”
“Advertisers.”
“Wait, like male ones too?”
“Both.”
“You were in ads?”
“Just some stuff where they needed a regular-looking model.”
Stuff like that happens everywhere.
The U.S. is no different.
What mattered is that Iion handled it well.
Big agencies offer freedom from things like that.
Lion would never force him into that kind of situation.
“So I left. Got out clean ‘cause I had audio recordings of what the team leader said.”
Ah. So that’s why he openly dissed his former agency in episode 1.
Once his story ended, the other members naturally shared theirs too.
I already knew Onsaemiro’s background.
Taehwan didn’t have much to say.
“I’ve just lived a good life…”
Except for struggling to fit in because he was too quick on the uptake as a kid, he had it peaceful.
That’s not a bad thing.
It’s something to be happy about.
Jaesung’s story was a little vague.
He said his family pressure made him feel out of place, which led him to dream of becoming a beloved idol.
But the real question was: what kind of pressure?
He glossed over that, and none of us pushed him on it.
“Alright, break’s over. Let’s go again. Onsaemiro.”
The next person I focused training on was Onsaemiro.
He’d killed it in Crossroads, and right now is the most important moment for him.
He’s finally started letting go of his inferiority complex about poverty—and his jealousy toward me—and started facing himself.
From here on, he’ll absorb everything I teach him like a sponge.
Which is why it has to be good instruction.
“You have a habit of announcing your lines too much. Like, ‘I’m about to sing! Here it comes! Everyone, listen up!’ That kind of thing.”
“That’s… bad?”
“Yeah. Ever heard of the term ‘umami’ sound?”
“Sure.”
“What’s umami? It’s flavor. A richness you can only experience when the taste lingers. But you keep skipping that part.”
“Ah, because I’m prepping for the next line too early?”
“Exactly. You force the next flavor before the last one’s even had time to settle. That’s fine in fast-tempo songs—but in slower ones? It shows.”
I pointed out every issue I’d noticed with his singing.
Even if he doesn’t understand it now, I told him to memorize it.
Most vocal coaches don’t teach this stuff.
They either don’t notice or assume it’s something you only learn with age.
But I don’t think that way.
If you want to claim responsibility for someone’s life, you should be able to teach them everything.
Of course, Onsaemiro isn’t my responsibility.
But I can still teach him.
“So, at this part—”
I was mid-lecture when Taehwan tapped me on the shoulder.
“What?”
“You’re not bullying Onsaemiro, right?”
“Me? Why?”
“You’ve been talking about tongue root movement for like an hour.”
“…It’s been an hour?”
Guess I got a little carried away.
“Still, it’s good stuff to learn.”
I asked Onsaemiro if he memorized it—turns out he just recorded the whole thing.
Smartphones are amazing.
Back in my day…
Well, I am from the smartphone generation.
After that, I trained Jaesung and Taehwan, then locked myself in the studio to work on the final song.
While preparations for the final stage continued, episodes 5 and 6 aired.
Episode 5’s highlight was Seoul Town Funk.
The performance drew a massive reaction from the public.
Everyone knows Uptown Funk, even if they’re not into music.
And Seoul Town Funk held its own.
Not in terms of vocal performance—no way we matched the original artist.
But the arrangement was solid. It kept the core of the original while adding fresh layers.
Also, something I hadn’t expected—the use of Korean traditional instruments scored bonus points with the general public.
The time-travel concept really resonated with idol fans too.
“TimeTravelTimeTravelTimeTravelTimeTravelTimeTravelTimeTravelTimeTravel!!”
“SaeDalBaekIl you maniacs debut already ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ”
“Smash EarthㅠㅠㅠSmash the UniverseㅠㅠㅠSmash Timeㅠㅠㅠ”
I don’t know why Earth and the universe need to be destroyed, but apparently it means they loved it.
Jaesung said fans usually say they’ll “summon an apartment” next?
Yeah, I have enough sense to know he was trolling me.
Fans aren’t Thanos.
Fortunately, the production team didn’t mess with Seoul Town Funk.
But they did focus the spotlight entirely on me.
They framed the stage as something that existed because of me, showing me as the one who carried the team.
That’s not inaccurate for the preparation phase.
But on stage? That was all the members.
They were the ones who immersed themselves, exploded, brought it to life.
Time passed, and now we’re two days from the final.
Tomorrow’s for rest, so today is our last rehearsal.
But then, led by Iion, the members started insisting we go somewhere.
“Where exactly?”
“You’ll see when we get there.”
“You’re not dragging me off to take photos, are you?”
“What? Of course not.”
In the end, I gave in to their stubbornness.
And just like that—
Beep—Beep—Beep—
We arrived at my parents’ hospital room.


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