Chapter 6
No one could speak easily.
Minsu was the one who finally broke the silence.
“…Are you going to give up the main vocal?”
“Yes. I think it wouldn’t be bad to pass it to Jua. Of course, I want it too…”
Hayan trailed off and met Jua’s eyes directly.
“There might be unexpected situations. Let’s switch positions first, get feedback in that position, and if the feedback isn’t bad, we keep it that way. What do you think?”
“…The main stage is in two days.”
“It’s tight, but not impossible. Or we can just leave it as is; I’m fine with—”
“No. Let’s try it.”
Before Hayan could withdraw her offer, Jua quickly cut in. In moments like this, she was faster than anyone.
“Then Jua will be the main vocal. I’ll switch to subvocal.”
Once Hayan handed over the main vocal spot, the practice atmosphere—tense like thin ice just moments ago—flowed much more smoothly.
The other members looked confused by Hayan’s sudden suggestion, but she simply shrugged it off.
“Hayan, you’re not giving it up because you have to, right?”
Minsu approached her quietly during break.
“No.” It’s really my decision.”
“But you wanted it.”
“Unnie, lend me your ear.”
Hayan leaned in.
“If you think about how this will look on broadcast, no matter how we explain it, viewers will just think we’re fighting.”
“…That’s true.”
“Jua doesn’t seem like someone who’ll back down easily. So just give it to her. That’s it. No more disagreement from me.”
Minsu still looked uneasy.
But for Hayan, it really was the end.
For now.
Feedback Evaluation Day
“Ahh! My heart’s going to explode!”
“Hey, Catherine, go back to your team!”
“You’re like… that thing. Woo-wang? Woo-wang?”
“Do you mean Woohwangcheongsimwon?”
Right before filming, all trainees gathered in the practice room.
Except Catherine, who was busy teasing Minsu even though they weren’t on the same team.
Hayan watched them while recalling the past.
Last time, the first feedback evaluation was legendary.
Legendary for how harsh the trainers were.
“Are you a chicken plushie? Why are you screaming like that?”
“Don’t even make expressions. Your smile is worse. How did you become a center?”
“Your pigeon-toed walk is terrible. If you won’t even fix that, go home.”
It wasn’t outright swearing, but it crossed the line.
Most of it came from Moosung.
That episode became a hot topic on social media.
It’ll probably be a sea of tears again.
Hayan had cried back then too.
But—
That’s not the issue now. I don’t have the luxury to react emotionally to empty nitpicking.
Compared to being trapped in a regression system, harsh words were nothing.
“Wow…”
Team 1 went first.
The trainees watched Haemi’s team with their mouths open.
“Dance break version for the chorus?”
“Yes. We thought the concert remix choreography would enhance the flow.”
“Good. Just fix the formation before the last hold. Other than that… nothing to add.”
The trainer smiled.
Team 1 beamed.
Team 2 also received relatively gentle feedback.
Hayan felt uneasy.
The calm before the storm.
Then—
Team 3.
“You guys…”
“……”
“What is this?”
It began.
“Who’s center?”
“…Me.”
Jua raised her hand.
“You’re center?”
“…Yes.”
“Why are you the center?”
Silence.
“Change it.”
“…Yes.”
“You know why, right?”
“…Yes.”
“Your positions are a mess. How are you going on stage like this?”
Two days before the main stage.
Changing positions now was risky.
But Hayan wasn’t shaken.
I expected this. That’s why I gave up the main vocal.
She glanced at Jua.
“…?”
Jua had her head down—but she was glaring at the trainer under her bangs.
Are you crazy? If the camera catches that—
Hayan subtly shifted closer, blocking the angle.
Why are you repeating what I used to do?
During preparation, Hayan kept feeling déjà vu from Jua.
Then she realized why.
Self-hatred.
In the past, Hayan believed that long training equaled skill.
That effort should be recognized.
And if it wasn’t, she grew hostile.
Just like Jua now.
“Do you even know how hard I worked?”
Looking back, she wanted to smack herself.
Effort mattered.
But it wasn’t everything.
Life was a sum of countless variables.
Like this regression.
People like this can’t be persuaded. They have to see reality.
After Filming
Other teams went back to rest.
Team 3 couldn’t afford that.
“Jua.”
“Yes.”
“Let’s talk before practice.”
They went to the vocal room.
“We’ve never really talked off-camera, right?”
“Right.”
“I’ve heard about you from trainers before. I was curious.”
“And we’re the same age. Twenty-one.”
“…Really? I don’t meet many people my age.”
“Can we speak casually?”
“…Sure.”
“Okay.”
“So what’s your point?”
“Main vocal. I think I should take it back. And you take sub vocal 1.”
Jua’s eyes widened.
“I know what you’re thinking. I’m not trying to dump scraps on you.”
“Then what?”
“Did you listen to sub vocal 1?”
Silence.
She hadn’t.
“Listen.”
Hayan had edited the track, isolating sub vocal 1.
It had almost as much presence as the main vocal.
“The harmony in the last chorus is the highlight. Even short-form edits focus on it.”
Subvocal wasn’t insignificant.
“…Fine.”
Maybe because she’d just been scolded, Jua didn’t argue further.
“No need to lose steam already.”
“…Yeah.”
“We both need to advance.”
“…Yeah.”
Her voice softened.
Strategy Meeting
“I’ve organized how we can stage this.”
The team gathered.
“This song lacks performance impact. The verses feel empty. We need to fill that gap.”
Minsu murmured, impressed.
“So what’s the solution?”
“We rearrange it entirely.”
Their eyes widened.
“But we have two days.”
“…”
And That’s How—
“Heera. Help me.”
Hayan stood before Heera again.
“…Two days before evaluation?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I know.”
“But can you even rearrange it?”
“The original composer approved it if allowed.”
They moved to the company mixing room.
Heera read through Hayan’s messy rainbow-background PPT.
“…You did this alone? The analysis is solid.”
“Well.”
“We need a concept.”
“I have one.”
“Tell me.”
“The song is about wishing happiness for someone you can’t reach, right?”
“Yeah.”
“But that unreachable person doesn’t have to be real.”
“…True.”
“What if it’s a prince from a childhood fairy tale?”
Heera’s eyes lit up.
They finalized the concept: girls reminiscing about childhood fairy-tale loves.
“Time’s tight. We’ll need to choreograph simultaneously.”
Of course.
Hayan worked on choreography while receiving Heera’s rearrangement in real time.
No sleep.
Why am I suffering like this?
Then—
She remembered.
A viral dance challenge.
Back when DAZE was at their peak.
“Moon Hayan, you start the Get My challenge. Come film tomorrow.”
Why her? Not Catherine or Haemi?
The result had been disastrous.
- Petition to ban the Get My challenge.
- I usually think everyone dances fine… but this?
- Why give this song to someone who dances on the beat like that?
- It’s not that bad?
└ People like you are why K-pop is doomed.
She had begged not to upload it.
The company forced her.
But—
There had been one challenge video that didn’t get hate.
Not because she danced well.
But because—
“Ah.”
Hayan covered her mouth.
She suddenly remembered.
And immediately ran to the practice room.
