Little Pink Starfish

Of course, not every audience member understood the full context like Lee Young-ha did.

But that didn’t matter.

Music doesn’t require knowledge to be enjoyed, and Han Si-on had long since let go of any such vanity.

With cheers erupting, the stage moved into the second verse.

If Verse 1 had been filled with the members’ skills, Verse 2 was packed with memories.

Elements from all the past stages Sedalbaekil had performed during Coming Up Next were embedded in the song.

But as expected, the highlight was once again Lee I-on’s pre-hook and Han Si-on’s hook.

“Driving—Da—Da” with all five

“Diving—Da—Da” into memories

Just like that, Sedalbaekil’s final stage, <Sedalbaekil>, came to an end.

Everyone in the audience was thinking the same thing:

“Sedalbaekil won.”

No doubt.

There’s no way Take Scene could beat this, no matter what they did.

---

“Waaahhhhhhh!”

“Thank you!”

“Really, thank you! We’ve been Sedalbaekil!”

Amid the audience’s roaring cheers, Sedalbaekil bowed deeply.

Yes—audience, not spectators.

The people who enjoyed our performance in this moment were immersed, regardless of the show Coming Up Next.

“You all worked hard.”

“I-on hyung, you were seriously awesome.”

“That was… just incredible.”

“We did good, right?”

Maybe because it was the final stage, their voices trembled a little.

Blue came up onto the stage, trying to bring the situation to a close.

But the cheers were so loud that it didn’t settle easily.

Someone jokingly started an encore chant, and soon it spread:

“Encore!”

“Encore!”

Voices grew louder and louder.

Of course, fans of Take Scene stood silently, looking displeased. But at least half the audience was chanting for an encore.

And that reminded me of what we’d said when preparing for the <Sedalbaekil> stage:

“No matter what we do, the final stage will end with Take Scene’s victory. They’ll fabricate scenes if they have to.”

“But I hope, at least in the moment, we win on-site.”

“To the point where 2,000 people in the audience tilt their heads. To the point that the judges’ evaluations seem questionable. To the point that the viewer message board floods with complaints after the broadcast.”

That wish came true.

Even without seeing Take Scene’s stage, we felt confident: we won.

Of course, the judges will find some flaw to nitpick, and Take Scene will get the higher score.

But that doesn’t matter.

The Sedalbaekil members will do just fine even in a world where I no longer exist.

Thanks to today’s memories.

And so, our final stage ended, and the judges’ evaluations began.

---

After the judges gave their comments—

A special VCR began playing to calm the audience’s excitement.

Broadcast stations always prepare for unexpected delays. This VCR had been prepped just in case.

Producer Kang Seok-woo was dumbfounded.

He never imagined that a stage would receive such an overwhelming reaction that they’d have to play this VCR.

“What a shame.”

By the logic of capitalism, Coming Up Next’s winner was predetermined to be Take Scene.

No hard feelings.

That was the plan from the start.

But what if the program had truly been fair?

If they had shed light on the brilliance of Sedalbaekil’s stage and the sweat behind it—

They might have captured the most powerful moment a reality show could ever create.

Still, work and emotion must remain separate.

---

After the feedback, once we stepped off stage, my emotions gradually cooled.

The euphoria and sense of accomplishment from a satisfying performance vanished instantly.

Honestly, it caught me off guard.

I know my emotional swings are intense, but this was like a roller coaster.

Still, I tried not to show it and complimented each member’s performance one by one.

Interestingly, the Sedalbaekil members seemed to value my feedback more than the judges’.

Because only we knew what we intended for this performance.

“Hearing praise from Si-on makes me feel like we really did well.”

“Right? It’s super rare.”

Besides, the four judges gave our stage a total of 376 points.

That’s an average of 94.

They said it sounded great but was visually lacking.

What nonsense.

We didn’t even blend genres—just pure tropical house. More dancing would’ve been too much.

K-pop idol performances are important, yes, but don’t destroy the vibe of the song.

While I was thinking that, I noticed the sudden silence around me.

The members were all deep in their own thoughts.

Three months of filming.

Roughly 100 days if you count from the B-team selection.

And now, it was over.

“Wait, I counted. We only had 2 months and 23 days.”

“So we’ve got 8 days left to make it 3 full months?”

“Yup.”

“Then maybe we could go on a trip…”

Lee I-on trailed off mid-sentence.

He’d just remembered that I had to join Take Scene.

Yeah, that’s right.

Their debut is coming soon. I have to learn the choreography, record, film the music video—

“It’ll still be fun with just the four of you.”

That’s what I ended up saying.

Maybe I could spare a day, but Sedalbaekil’s journey had to end here.

Harsh as it sounds, this is as far as I can support them.

Once I become part of Take Scene, I have to give it my all there.

That’s what a regressor does.

Then I heard cheers erupt again.

Take Scene had taken the stage.

Their performance of <Dream Take> wasn’t bad.

They danced sharply over a sticky-feeling deep house track. The stage was quite good.

Live vocals were solid, too.

Hmm… actually, I think “future house” would describe it better than “deep house.”

If I had arranged it, I probably would’ve gone with future bounce instead—more upbeat and bouncy rather than sticky.

“Baby, I do, love it”

“Three words are enough”

Take Scene was clearly well-trained.

They must’ve seen our stage, which could’ve shaken their confidence—but they stayed focused.

If Sedalbaekil’s stage was 100 points, Take Scene’s was about 90?

Given that I led Sedalbaekil, that’s impressive.

Looking back, Coming Up Next was actually well designed.

Early episodes gave screen time to the colorful B-team contestants, but the show gradually shifted focus to Take Scene.

Ending with <Dream Take>?

If I hadn’t been involved, no one would’ve doubted Take Scene’s victory.

Without me, there’d have been no Koo Tae-hwan, no exploration of Lee I-on’s tone—

Actually, thinking only about the early part of the show, maybe it would’ve been better without me.

Ohn Sae-mi-ro wouldn’t have felt jealousy or inferiority and could’ve just been the B-team ace.

She and I-on might’ve formed a team, strong in both looks and skills.

The individuals are great, but as a team, they probably wouldn’t have matched Take Scene.

“Si-on.”

Lost in thought, I looked up as Ohn Sae-mi-ro called my name.

The judges’ scores for Take Scene’s stage were being revealed:

97, 100, 95, 98.

Total: 390 points.

Compared to our 376, that’s overwhelming.

But I said nothing.

No—I couldn’t say anything.

Sedalbaekil had taken its final bow.

I no longer had the right.

---

The shoot wasn’t over yet, but the audience started leaving.

Usually, survival shows announce the winner on the final stage.

But that only works when the final stage is a live broadcast free from spoilers.

So today, the winning team wouldn’t be revealed.

The team that would debut would be announced in the last episode, airing in three weeks.

As the audience filed out, the judges and PD Kang Seok-woo huddled.

There was a problem.

“Sedalbaekil won?”

“Yes. We just finished tallying the audience votes.”

“Was it close?”

“No, around 65 to 35.”

Faced with this unexpected outcome, Blue spoke up.

“Didn’t we select the audience?”

“We did, but we couldn’t measure their loyalty.”

Kang Seok-woo had designed today’s audience to favor Take Scene.

Applicants had to fill out a 20-question survey, including things like “Which performance left the biggest impression?” and “Who’s your favorite contestant?”

Using that data, they filtered for people who leaned toward Take Scene.

But data doesn’t show the depth of emotion.

Even if someone picked Take Scene’s <Sugar> and said their favorite was Ready, that could’ve been a light preference.

Light hearts shift when hit by something powerful.

And today, Sedalbaekil’s stage had that power.

Of course, if Kang Seok-woo had truly wanted, he could’ve packed the audience with Take Scene’s core fandom.

But—

“There’s no way that wouldn’t get caught.”

Imagine if every profile picture on social media posts about today’s show was from Take Scene’s fanbase?

Trying to play it safe could backfire.

“What about the total score?”

“Sedalbaekil is higher.”

“Even including the 2nd and 3rd rounds?”

“Yes. Audience votes were factored into those too.”

“Hmmm…”

As CEO Choi Tae-ho pondered, Trainer Yoo Sun-hwa—less tainted by the industry—spoke up.

“Can’t we just fudge the numbers a bit?”

“Absolutely not.”

It’s easy, but the risk is massive.

No secret stays buried forever. One day, people might find out that Coming Up Next was just a setup for Take Scene’s debut.

What if the next head of M-Show exposed it to attack the current one?

If there’s hard evidence of vote manipulation, prosecutors could get involved.

This kind of thing is political gold.

“What do you think, PD Kang?”

“Let’s include the first mission’s scores and reduce the audience vote weight to 10%. That should balance it out.”

The first mission in Coming Up Next was individual-based.

Han Si-on’s <Under the Streetlight Remake> was revealed during that position battle.

Since it wasn’t a team mission, they’d decided not to include it—until now.

They needed that metric to balance things out.

Luckily, aside from Han Si-on, Take Scene had higher scores in the first mission.

“Seoul Town Funk got scored too high.”

Kang Seok-woo added the comment—subtly shifting the blame toward the judges.

After all, the current problem stemmed more from them.

But the judges had their own defense.

Back then, there were no plans to debut Han Si-on with Take Scene.

“What’s the point in bringing up the past? Let’s proceed as discussed. Please calculate the new scores.”

“Understood.”

Soon after, the production team finalized the scores under the new rules.

It was time to inform the contestants.

Even if they already suspected everything—this was for the show’s biggest moment.