Little Pink Starfish

My first thought was: “Is this for filming?”

Otherwise, how would the SaeDalBaekIl members even know my parents’ hospital room?

But there were no following cameras. No mounted camcorders either.

As if reading my mind, Iion spoke up.

“We asked the mentor at the restaurant. If he could contact the production staff and find out.”

“…When I went to the bathroom?”

“Yeah.”

So that’s why they changed the subject so fast when I came back.

I understood the situation.

But…

I didn’t understand them.

We’ve already reached the end.

I’ll debut with TakeScene. They’ll stay with Lion.

And even that’s not permanent—some might fail to debut, some might leave for other agencies.

There’s no reason to go this far.

That’s when Onsaemiro played music from his phone.

“Figured your song has probably already reached this room by now.”

Gutaehwan chimed in after Iion.

“Wouldn’t it be better if they heard the new one early?”

The song I composed because of Onsaemiro.
The genre chosen by Choi Jaesung.
The intro requested by Gutaehwan.
The pre-hook led by Iion.

The song I made.

“SaeDalBaekIl.”

It was a quiet sound.

Not even enough to fill the room.

Someone started softly humming.

Then, one by one, the other members began to hum their parts—except me.

♬♪♪♪♪♪~

In between their voices—

The sound of my parents’ heart monitors.
The hum of the humidifier.
Birdsong outside the window.
The early summer breeze tapping at the glass.

And my sobbing, mixed in.

---

The day before the final competition, Eddie came to visit.

“Hey. So tomorrow’s the end, huh?”

“Kind of hard to call it ‘already.’ It’s been long.”

“I listened to your song. ‘Se-Dal-Baek-Gil’?”

I snorted at Eddie’s clunky pronunciation.

“So? Your verdict?”

“It’s a good song. Would’ve been better in deep house, though.”

“This works better for K-pop.”

“Oh, right. Did you hear? Alex went back looking absolutely baffled.”

Chris Edwards’ manager, Alex, recently came with a contract in hand and full of confidence.

Said he’d been watching all along and was convinced they couldn’t miss out. That he’d persuaded the company.

“This kind of signing bonus is unheard of.”

He wasn’t lying.

The amount was unthinkable for an unknown Asian artist.

Something only well-established regional acts in the States might get.

But I turned it down.

Because Billboard isn’t my endgame.

Alex was dumbfounded.

He’d expected negotiation—not outright rejection.

Still, he didn’t give up. Told me to look him up if I ever came to the U.S.

Who knows? It’s true that a distributor helps a lot with an American launch.

“But I did tell you, didn’t I? I’m not signing anything.”

“Managers hear that as, ‘Give me more money!’”

“Well, not totally wrong. Anyway—safe trip.”

Eddie and I shook hands with a laugh.

He had to head back for a big HBO project, and said he’d also scout some musicians I’d introduced.

By the way, Eddie knows everything going on behind the scenes on Coming Up Next.

Just as I suspected, he was asked to give negative feedback on Crossroads.

Obviously, he refused.

Did they really think a Billboard No.1 composer would roll over like that?

So he bailed on the rest of his scheduled filming and flew out.

Said he didn’t like the vibe.

I get where PD Kang Seokwoo is coming from, though. It’s business.

“Sion, I’ll see you in the U.S., okay?”

“Yeah.”

That was supposed to be our goodbye.

But Eddie, now far away, suddenly turned around and came back.

“What? Forget something?”

“You’re weird.”

“You mean I feel familiar?”

“No—I mean it’s weird that you’re anxious.”

“…?”

“Someone with your talent shouldn’t need to be anxious. Or afraid. Or calculating.”

He continued.

“Just go for it. People might seem indifferent, but they’re not. There are plenty of folks out there who’ll understand the core of your music. People like me.”

I gave a slight smile and nodded.

“Yeah.”

Without anxiety, I wouldn’t have sold 200 million albums.

At best, I’d cap out at 30 million.

But I didn’t end things with that kind of pushback.

Even though it started off rough, Eddie and I somehow became friends.

One more day passed.

And it was finally the morning of Coming Up Next’s final mission: Free Song Performance.

---

2,000 audience members started pouring into the venue.

For a cable idol survival show—this was unprecedented.

At the planning stage, suggesting this would’ve sounded insane.

But now, it was doable.

Average Viewership: 8.4%
Capital Region Avg: 8.9%
Peak Minute Rating: 10.2%

Episode 6’s ratings were monstrous.

And rising.

Usually, audition shows dip in the later episodes because contestants get eliminated.

Once your favorite’s gone, fans lose interest.

But Coming Up Next had no eliminations—so people kept watching.

Of course, no eliminations could reduce tension and kill engagement.

But the show overcame that weakness completely.

Thanks to Han Sion.

Especially the impact of Seoul Town Funk.

Many viewers weren’t into idols—but they liked Han Sion.

This was particularly true of men in their 20s–30s. People who usually avoided idol shows.

They tuned in just for me.

They wanted more solo stages. More high-level missions.

In that sense, they completely rejected the show’s concept.

If the first team battle (Original Creation Mission) had flopped, those viewers would’ve left.

But I hooked them.

Seoul Town Funk was the kind of stage that made even non-idol fans pay attention.

That’s when people realized:

“Oh? Team stages are actually fun.”

And the ratings didn’t dip.

Now, they were even hoping Episode 7 might crack double digits.

Behind the scenes, the production crew was bustling.

“What about the banners and fan signs?”

“We swapped or removed them appropriately.”

“Good. Can’t make it look like only TakeScene is getting cheered on.”

“We’ll double-check before the show starts.”

The truth is, most of today’s audience came to support TakeScene.

The producers screened them, since audience votes would count toward the final result.

Some staff had questioned whether they even needed to—weren’t the judges going to pick TakeScene anyway?

But PD Kang Seokwoo thought differently.

Partly because of SaeDalBaekIl’s previous stages.

Partly because of what he saw during the final preparations.

“It was chilling.”

He’d watched SaeDalBaekIl clench their teeth for two weeks under my precise directing.

It was chilling how sharp they were becoming.

To be honest, it was almost regretful to have to cut their chemistry scenes and focus just on me.

“We’re all set!”

An assistant PD’s voice brought Kang Seokwoo back to reality.

Sentiment later.

First, he had a show to finish.

Besides…

“They’re good kids.”

Thanks to SaeDalBaekIl, this finale might end beautifully.

And so, the curtain lifted on the final show.

---

Oddly enough, the opening act came from the judges: Blue, Chae Taeho, Yoo Sunhwa, and Lee Changjoon.

It was mostly Blue’s idea.

He’d been stressed out by comments online like:

“I don’t know about the others, but Blue’s in no position to judge anyone.”
“Back in Blue’s heyday, idol standards were way lower.”

Their performance? Actually decent.

Blue and Yoo Sunhwa showed off powerhouse vocals.
Chae Taeho and Lee Changjoon played the comic relief.

The way they kept pushing the rap parts onto each other had the crowd laughing.

Once the song ended, the four sat down at the judge’s panel with grins.

“Whew, this was tough. Made me realize again how hard our contestants have had it.”

“Yoo Sunhwa, do you have any advice for Chae Taeho and Lee Changjoon?”

Blue asked.

Yoo Sunhwa smirked and grabbed the mic.

“Reincarnate.”

The crowd burst into applause at the judges’ banter.

As the fresh atmosphere lingered, the show teased a “special stage.”

Normally, these involve eliminated contestants.

But Coming Up Next had none.

The audience tilted their heads in confusion—until the duet performances were revealed.

Gutaehwan – Ready
Onsaemiro – Joo Yeon
Choi Jaesung – Fade
Iion – SeeU
Han Sion – EyeLevel

Meanwhile, behind the scenes:

“Wow. This is savage. Just throwing direct comparisons like that.”

“Other than Han Sion, TakeScene probably wins every matchup.”

“LOL poor EyeLevel. Got matched with Han Sion.”

“Wait, they’re doing this and a team battle? They’re gonna run out of stamina.”

“Judging from the songs, looks like it’s more vocal-focused than choreo-heavy.”

“It’s a duet, not a battle!”

“How can anyone see this as just a duet?”

By the time idol fans lucky enough to get tickets started live-posting to social media…

Two guys stepped onto the stage.

Gutaehwan and Ready.

Their duet was I’m Dying — a famous track originally performed by a male rapper and WayFromFlower’s main vocalist.

Like most collab songs, the rapper handles the verses, the vocalist covers the chorus.

But this one had a twist: the lyrics.

The song’s two voices blame and accuse each other.

Of course, the original message is “I hate you so much I love you I’m dying,” but…

Gutaehwan and Ready agreed to perform it differently—expressing rivalry instead of romantic conflict.

They even got the lyrics changed and asked the mentors for permission.

Once both agreed, the mentors gave a green light.

But this was all Han Sion’s plan.

To let Gutaehwan beat Ready.