NOVEL Idol Hides His Military Service Chapter 79: Midpoint Check

Idol Hides His Military Service

Chapter 79: Midpoint Check
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"Hello, sir."

"Oh! Good to see you, Hyeryeong."

Hyeryeong gave Park Taesu, who was greeting her warmly, a light hug.

"I was really shocked when I heard you joined this time as a producer."

"Yeah, I decided to appear all of a sudden, so I probably should’ve contacted you."

"Exactly! Are you trying to steal my judge seat now too?"

"Should I?"

"Seriously, sunbae!"

Chatting cheerfully and catching up for a bit, Hyeryeong felt like she could guess why Park Taesu had joined Idol Ground 100 as a producer.

'Feels like he’s fallen for someone again.'

TSP’s CEO, Park Taesu, was famous for being eccentric.

Back when he debuted, he shocked the public with outrageous outfits or provocative lyrics.

Later, in his prime as a producer, he shook everyone again by trying to break into the U.S. market.

He even insisted that Hyeryeong call him sunbae instead of CEO, that was how little distance he kept.

And one of the things he was famous for was—

"So who did you come for this time?"

"Hm?"

"There’s no way you joined the program just to participate, right?"

—that he was greedy when it came to people.

Even in the past, he’d enjoyed personally joining audition programs and scouting contestants he liked into his own agency.

For someone like that to accept casting as a producer on Idol Ground 100—a role that, given his position, had more potential downside than benefit—made it highly likely someone had caught his eye.

"No, it’s not like that."

"Oh, that’s a lie."

Even now, though his mouth said no to Hyeryeong’s words, his face was so flustered he didn’t know what to do.

'Is it Lee Sion after all?'

Hyeryeong could more or less guess which contestant Park Taesu had marked.

Of course, his criteria for “falling for someone” were so different from other people’s that she could be wrong.

'But I’d bet eight or nine out of ten it’s Lee Sion.'

Watching the still-flustered Park Taesu insist it wasn’t like that and that he’d just joined because he found it interesting, Hyeryeong thought back to Lee Sion, whom she’d run into when she came into the dorm ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) earlier.

—Hello, Ms. Hyeryeong!

—Oh, Sion, hi. But what’s with your hair? Why is it so cute?

—Um··· well, it’s kind of because there’s a concept this time··· so this isn’t really my will···.

Instead of her usual long hair, Sion had cute braided twin tails and even makeup on, so when Hyeryeong asked what was going on, Sion had gotten flustered and practically run away.

'It’s really fun.'

It was a totally different side of Lee Sion than the one she’d seen until now, and it looked surprisingly charming.

She’d thought it would totally not suit her, but once they’d actually done her up like that, it somehow felt like she’d always been that way.

Seeing how thinking of Park Taesu, who was denying that he’d come to steal any particular contestant away, made Sion pop into her mind, it couldn’t be a coincidence.

In fact, her own agency’s CEO, Lee Seyoon, was also interested in Lee Sion.

'No wonder my eyes went straight to her the moment I saw her.'

Ever since she first met Sion, Hyeryeong had found her interesting, and seeing that the heads of three of the biggest agencies in the country were also paying attention to Sion made her shoulders unconsciously lift—like it proved her eyes hadn’t been wrong.

And why not—back when everyone else gave that Entrance Ceremony stage low scores, Hyeryeong had seen Sion’s potential and, at the following Midpoint Evaluation, had given her an A grade over the others’ objections.

So these days, as she watched Sion’s popularity skyrocket day by day, Hyeryeong sometimes felt like someone had stolen away a great restaurant she’d discovered on her own.

'My CEO’s in trouble.'

Hyeryeong knew that over the weekend, her CEO, Seyoon, had met with Sion’s aunt and MPlay PD, Kim Miyoung.

He’d said it just happened to coincide with trying to recruit the PD for a variety-show production SY was preparing, but in Hyeryeong’s eyes, that part was the “while we’re at it,” and the real goal was to create a point of contact with Sion.

Hyeryeong couldn’t help wondering which approach would work—Seyoon’s style of slowly approaching from the outside by targeting the people around Sion first, or Park Taesu’s method of charging straight in once he’d fallen for someone.

But in the end, it wasn’t really her business.

Separate from the personal fondness she felt for Sion as a contestant, it would be great if Sion came to SY, and if not, it wouldn’t make a big difference to Hyeryeong’s position.

If anything, she felt a little flutter of excitement at the thought that watching the two CEOs compete over Sion might be more fun.

Talking with Park Taesu like that, they eventually arrived at the building where Idol Ground 100’s practice rooms were located.

It was almost time for Hyeryeong and Park Taesu to conduct the contestants’ midpoint check together.

"How are the Girlish Pop kids doing?"

"You probably know better than me, but these days, kids are honestly way more skilled than trainees used to be."

"Right? Honestly, they weren’t this good at first, but as the program went on, they started improving at a scary pace."

Park Taesu wasn’t exaggerating.

'Back in my day, the trainees’ skill levels were all over the place.'

When Hyeryeong had been a trainee, it had been a time when the system was still in the process of being established, rather than firmly in place.

Maybe because of that, skill levels between trainees had been wildly different. And while there was still a gap between the top-tier and lower-tier trainees now, that gap felt much narrower.

It wasn’t an unscalable wall—everyone had a solid foundation, so it wouldn’t be strange if any of them suddenly grew at any time.

For trainees in that kind of situation, what they needed was an opportunity to crack their shell. Hyeryeong felt Idol Ground 100 was exactly that opportunity.

Clatter.

"Hello!"

As they opened the practice room door, the loud voices of the contestants rang out.

"Yeah, it’s been a while. You’ve all been practicing hard, right?"

"Yes!"

Together with Park Taesu, Hyeryeong moved to the desk that had been set up in the practice room.

***

Yoon Jaei.

An eighteen-year-old girl, a trainee under DYS Entertainment.

Jaei was also a contestant on Idol Ground 100 who had survived up to the second ranking announcement.

'This is my chance.'

In truth, she’d barely survived in 48th place, so every day was nerve-racking tension for Jaei—when this golden opportunity came.

—You’re Sub Vocal 2, Jaei. Think you can do it?

'···Yes, I can!'

The third mission of Idol Ground 100: the Concept Evaluation.

It was a brutal mission where only five out of ten could go up on stage—but for Yoon Jaei, that might actually be better.

Of course, if all ten could stand on stage together, that would feel great, but it was undeniable that with more people, each individual’s share of attention would drop.

'If I can’t stand out even in this song, I won’t get another chance.'

As the program filmed, Jaei felt that the best decision she’d made was choosing the Girlish Pop concept for the Concept Mission.

Unlike the other concepts, Girlish Pop required expressive acting to bring out that uniquely girlish emotion, and that was the one thing Jaei felt most confident in.

There was a good reason for that: despite her still-lacking dance and vocal skills, the reason she’d managed to survive two ranking announcements.

It was because she had once been a child actress.

'Because it tastes like melon, I said it tastes like melon···.'

Ten years ago—when she’d been eight—Jaei had appeared as the child version of the female lead in a national drama that had swept South Korea.

Thanks to that, she had decent public recognition, and maybe because of it, she’d been able to rack up a lot of votes despite doing nothing special on stage.

Of course, it also helped that the production team had decided to use her background as a former child actress in the program’s promotion and had given her a certain amount of screentime.

But that was as far as it went.

'Tsk. Yoon Jaei’s reaction isn’t climbing as much as I expected.'

'Her impact is weak.'

A staff conversation she’d happened to overhear a while back.

It had been about her—about Jaei—and the moment she heard it, her heart sank.

No impact.

Painful as it was, it was true.

During the last break, when she’d watched the parts of Idol Ground 100 she was in, she hadn’t even found herself particularly entertaining—so how would the viewers feel?

On the other hand, when it came to popular contestants, they left a shocking impact in just a few short moments, and comparing herself to that only made Jaei feel more miserable.

'I was so naïve.'

Up until now, she’d secretly clung to this ridiculous confidence that, since she had recognition as a former child actress, as long as she didn’t screw up, she’d naturally be chosen for the debut group.

Now she felt it in her bones—that she’d been deluding herself.

Thinking she had to protect her image as an actress, she’d avoided actively stepping up for talent segments or mini games—and she regretted that bitterly.

That was why she had to seize this opportunity.

"Is everyone ready?"

"Yes!"

"Then let’s start."

Like the other missions, the Concept Evaluation was made up of a midpoint check and a final check.

And now, with the judge’s question of whether they were ready, the Concept Evaluation midpoint check began.

Midpoint checks had been important in the other missions too, but this time, in the Concept Evaluation, the stakes were on a different level.

"During this midpoint check, I’m really sorry, but we’ll be choosing the five who’ll go up on stage. Not being selected is absolutely not your fault—it’s just a matter of who fits the concept and stage even a little bit better···."

Facing the Girlish Pop team members preparing for the stage, Park Taesu was already offering words of comfort, but Jaei was too focused on the stage to really hear him.

'An expression filled with fluttering excitement.'

Acting that expressed emotion couldn’t be pulled out instantly—it had to be layered, step by step, to come out.

'What is that kid doing?'

And in the middle of building that emotion, what entered Jaei’s eyes was Lee Sion, sitting behind Park Taesu and staring at her like she was going to burn a hole through her.

Because Starlight Umbrella was originally written for five people to stand on stage, the Girlish Pop concept team was also scheduled to split into Team A and Team B and go through the midpoint check that way.

Now, as the second group to perform, Team B’s Lee Sion was glaring at her like she would devour her—which only made Jaei more nervous.

'Get it together!'

But if she let Sion’s presence break her focus, it would be an insult to all the years she’d spent learning acting. Scolding herself, Jaei forced herself back into concentration.

Soon, the melody of Starlight Umbrella flowed out through the speakers.

***

"Team A, great job. I’ll give my evaluation after I see Team B’s stage too."

Hmm···.

The ones who stood out the most in Team A’s stage were Yuri, Sojin, and Yoon Jaei.

'As expected, they’re good.'

Team A, which had just performed, was centered around Yuri and had shown a pretty polished stage, so the B team members standing with me looked tense.

Especially—

"You okay?"

"···Yes."

Was it because her position rival had done well?

In Suyeon’s case, I could really feel how tense she was.

Normally, I would’ve told her not to be nervous and just do it the way she always did, but this time I just settled for lightly patting her shoulder.

'Saying anything right now won’t help.'

In a situation where only five out of ten could stand on stage, what could I say that would even go in one ear?

"Then next up, Team B, get ready."

"Yes!"

As I was looking over Suyeon and the rest of the B team, I heard a voice.

After whispering with judge Hyeryeong for a bit once Team A’s stage ended, Park Taesu finally seemed to have wrapped things up and addressed us, the waiting B team members.

"Let’s go."

As soon as Park Taesu finished speaking, I led the B team toward the center of the practice room.

"Ready?"

"Yes!"

And the stage began immediately.

'Yoon Jaei.'

Right before the performance, I replayed the image of Yoon Jaei I’d seen earlier in my head.

Objectively speaking, in terms of skill, Yoon Jaei was not a contestant you could call good.

'But I keep finding my eyes drawn to her.'

If someone asked which contestant had stood out most during practice, I would definitely have named Yoon Jaei as one of them.

For some reason, my gaze kept being pulled to her.

After thinking hard about why, I realized it was her expression.

—How many times have I told you not to look at people like that!

Unlike me, who gets suspected of glaring just for looking, Yoon Jaei’s face was endlessly expressive.

Not in the sense that it changed dramatically—but in such subtle ways that you wouldn’t even notice unless you focused.

'That’s why it felt so natural.'

I felt like even if she danced without the music, just with her expressions, she could delicately convey Starlight Umbrella’s emotions.

Up until now, I’d been too busy worrying about vocals and choreography to pay much attention to facial expressions or gestures, so Jaei’s expression work had shocked me. freeωebnovēl.c૦m

I’d gone all this time without realizing, and yet just through her facial expressions and hand movements alone, the same choreography and song could feel this different.

I wanted it.

I wanted to perform better on stage.

The air after the rain has cleared

Makes me think of the road I walked with you

The stage began with the voice of Jung Hayoung, Team B’s Sub Vocal 1, signaling the start.

To the melody of Starlight Umbrella, I started copying the expressions I’d seen on Yoon Jaei’s face earlier.

***

"Did you direct that, Taesu?"

"···No."

Even responding that much in a short answer was the most Park Taesu could manage to Hyeryeong’s excited voice.

'What is with this kid···.'

He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Until today, he’d been perfectly satisfied just with the changes in Lee Sion’s appearance.

The way she’d changed, enough to evoke the image of a girl in love—that alone was worth plenty.

The only regret was—

—If Sion would just use her expressions and gestures a bit more richly, she’d be so much more charming.

Her vocals had improved dramatically under his direction, and her dancing had gotten impressive enough that it clearly showed she’d practiced separately.

All that remained was to follow the emotions of the stage and express them naturally.

But that was an area so difficult that even active idols sometimes only managed it after they’d built up years of experience. It wasn’t something he’d expected from this stage.

Yet now—

We promised under the starlight umbrella

That we’d meet again next season

Even if it rains, I’m not afraid

Because the sky is painted with you

Standing on stage, Lee Sion was acting out the exact girl he’d pictured in his head when he wrote the song.

At an absolutely incredible level.

Just now, as she sang, she’d let a very faint smile appear and brushed her fingertip lightly past the corner of her eye—a gesture like a girl holding back tears and forcing herself to act bright.

Park Taesu’s whole body broke out in goosebumps; he couldn’t even imagine how she’d practiced this in just a single day.

A genius?

This was something that went beyond what you could just call genius.

It was the kind of acting you’d only expect from someone like Yoon Jaei, who'd been a child actress.

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