Judge Mudie was the trainer for the Advance Vocal.
She gave me a generous score on my first evaluation, and she also said nice things about all the other participants. So there were also good words said during the training.
Of course, this doesn't mean that she never gets angry in any situation.
"Wongil-ah, that's not it… Haa."
"…."
The participant who kept missing the same beat bowed his head for the fifth day in a row.
He seemed to be trying to hide his anger instead of his regret, but it didn't matter.
Because the important thing to remember is that even a good coach will struggle to hide their frustration when watching a participant make so many mistakes.
And here's the main culprit.
"Moondae-ya, do you want to sing this part?"
"Yes."
When the trainer pointed it out, I moved forward, and the electric piano started playing the accompaniment. Then, I started singing the part before the chorus along with the music.
"I draw the future like a shooting star~."
When the trainer nodded in response to the clear voice and accurate beat, the participant who had failed earlier stomped his feet in frustration.
Yes. The flower bed was the reason I sang this theme song so well from the beginning.
It was unavoidable that those who already knew this song would have a different starting point than those who didn't.
Even though I wasn't listening to the demo, I listened to the complete song. It was okay to just sing based on what I remember.
Moreover, my voice was perfectly suited to this song, and the trainer was pleased with how I sang it because it didn't sound dirty.
Even now, some people were whispering as they looked at Mudie's happy face.
"…He's really good."
"I know."
What's worse is that the sample comes from "ordinary people," which means that the standard set by Advance Class is higher, so the other guy would suffer more.
Even more so if the participant is only good at singing.
As confirmed in the first evaluation, two participants had A-grade vocals this season. And both of their dances are below grade C. Everyone, including me, was in a tough condition.
Also, that 'Choi Wongil' participant, who is currently being scolded, was one of those two A-grades.
It's funny that he is the same middle school boy who tried to identify me before the filming. However, he was actually a first-year high school student, and not a middle schooler at all.
In any case, at an age when his self-consciousness was high, he deserved to be angry because this was something that he had been hearing from his trainer for several days.
He was compared to the person he ignored as soon as he met him.
"That's right!"
As soon as I finished singing the pre-chorus part, the trainer tapped the keyboard as if she was feeling better. Even when he heard the sound of the light hitting, Choi Wongil didn't raise his head.
"Wongil, you should sing it like this, okay?"
"…."
Given his abilities, I don't think it's possible to make that many mistakes. But unfortunately, after I cleared the whole song on the first day, he continued to argue, and in the end, it seemed like his mental was shattered.
Let's see, this is roughly how the first day seems to have started.
– Wow, I'm glad you got praise for your singing again, Hyung-nim. You have to hurry up and come up from the Beginner Dance!
– I think you fit this pure song well because you're kind of amateurish.
He used to say vague things that got on people's nerves. It was a subtle nuance, but if the opponent got mad, he would be treated like an idiot.
Also, it was all said later when the microphone was turned on.
But in the end, I couldn't stand it and got pissed off by him—.
– You're very lucky. I'm jealous. It's the most important factor in the entertainment industry. It would have been nice if you could dance with luck, that's too bad. But still, fighting!
– After all, I think it's right that there are lucky people above those who work hard. Most of the people here are desperate for their lives. But no matter how you participated, you got such good reviews.
It has gotten to this point.
Now, it's embarrassing to fight in front of everyone and be ignored. However, it is unavoidable because he can't do what he knows on purpose.
You might not know this, but this is also a matter of life and death for me—.
"Calm down, don't be too nervous, and let's try again."
"…Yes."
Choi Wongil tried to start singing again, but then he made another mistake.
That's too bad.
Even until the end of the vocal class that day, I received compliments from the trainer and sharp gazes from several participants, including Choi Wongil.
Because it had been so long since I had been evaluated for this rank, I was a little tired, but it wasn't too bad. But, of course, there would be no such check if it were a real X.
Then the last day of training ended with both classes remaining in the same condition and the practice achievements continually increasing.
On the morning of the last day, the participants in the Advanced Vocal class recorded a song.
Anyway, they will put them into a group, and their names will not be mentioned, so it won't mean much.
Instead, let's focus on the afternoon.
It was time for the long-awaited ranking evaluation.
******
The lights on the set are turned on.
"Everyone, how have you been?"
"Ah~ it was hard!"
"I'm just… I slept soundly because I was tired."
"Did you work hard on the teaching?"
"Of course! Oh, I hope today will be worth it."
The judges sat around the chairs and greeted each other properly.
Even though they were already done greeting each other in the waiting room in the morning, the conversation was like the show's opening scene.
The place where they came in and sat down was set up to look like a multi-to-one interview room. (t/n : 다대일 means the interviewer will be more than 1 person, and they will interview you. (Other interviewees will not be interviewed with you))
The set was recycled from the previous season, and special effects were prepared.
The judges, who were asked to show their reaction as much as possible in advance, pretended not to know and spoke naturally.
"It's totally— like that here. I think it feels like we will have a very important interview."
"It's true about the important interview~ It was a Grade Interview!"
"Is this an interview for joining Idol Joint-Stock Company?"
As soon as the judges are done talking, the light on the desk in front of where they are sitting turns on.
"Whoa!"
The words 'SHINE YOUR STAR' were written in colorful cursive on the desk.
As they did in other seasons, the judges started to applaud when this season's catchphrase turned out to be grand.
But this time, surprisingly, the wall began to move.
"Huh?!"
"What is this!"
With the skillful reaction of the judges, the walls of the interview room set went down to the floor. The wall then disappeared, revealing the full open set.
"The re-listing of the new Idol Joint-Stock Company! The first gateway is—the full public evaluation!"
"Whoa!"
What filled the backs of the judges was an open-air theater-like audience. And the front seats of the audience were filled with participants.
Participants, who thought it was just a temporary seat to wait, were shocked, which was in contrast to how the professional MCs looked.
"The 77 participants who practiced the same song will evaluate each other as an audience!"
In fact, the participants could see each other's stages even during the first evaluation.
However, everyone's expressions hardened because they didn't know they would openly evaluate those who practiced the same song throughout the same period as audiences.
This was because during the last season, they entered the practice room alone and received a separate evaluation.
"The Grade Evaluation order is in reverse order of rank!"
"….!"
"77th place, Chu Seonggu-gun, please come forward!"
The participant who was called to the stage looked like he was half-dead. People looked at him with sympathy and whispered, but Park Moondae didn't say a word.
As with Seon Ahyun's first ranking evaluation, the editing can make sympathy seem like a gimmick.
It was a feeling that came from the experience of periodically searching the idol community to set a price for filming data.
"Yes, thank you for your hard work."
"…Thank you…"
Naturally, the 77th participant missed most of the first verse and completely ruined the evaluation.
"…."
The next participant was also half-crushed on the stage in a cold and tense atmosphere.
After evaluating five or six people in this way, the judges couldn't hide the discomfort on their faces.
It was a cruel and dry arrangement.
However, the production team had nothing to lose.
'Anyway, if they can't do it, they'll have to take a provocative cut to make up for the appearance fee.'
They were used as disposable cards.
However, it was also meant to shed more light.
Like a participant who has the mental power to grip and digest the stage even when the minds of those in lower ranks are falling apart.
Or the participants who showed significant growth in this short period of time.
There was also a guess that it wouldn't matter if the participants with the worst skills were very good-looking or well-known since their terrible skills wouldn't attract attention to them.
Interestingly, some participants met both the former and the latter.
"Participant Lee Sejin, you must have worked hard."
"You're doing great!"
"H, h, huh—. T, thank you…."
It was Lee Sejin, who used to be a child actor. He followed the song to the end with a red face and barely breathing without missing a beat.
It wasn't enough, and it was awkward to say that it was "digested."
But when people of a similar rank who rolled up the stage were put before and after him, it looked much better.
Park Moondae had a moment of doubt.
'Is he the Lee Sejin who is debuting?'
Of course, he couldn't say for sure, so he ended his thoughts right away by putting the participant on the watch list.
'I should stay away from drug dealers.'
And the boring middle-class evaluation section followed.
The participants' skills gradually got better, and some of them stood out from time to time.
But it was hard not to get tired of hearing the same song more than 40 times.
After the tense mood at the start subsided, everyone showed their skills, and the judges regained their composure and began to feel bored.
"Well…"
"I think it's fine."
When the boredom reached its peak, it was Park Moondae's turn.
Seon Ahyun raised his fist to Park Moondae with a blank face. It was such a grim expression.
He had just finished the evaluation and had thoroughly digested the song.
"F, f, fighting…."
"…? Huh, yeah."
Why is he suddenly so friendly?
Park Moondae was surprised, but he greeted him back calmly. It was a victory of social consciousness.
He walked slowly onto the stage. It was so unfamiliar to him that his head felt somewhat heated with a sense of excitement.
"22nd place, Park Moondae!"
"Yes."
The judges' attitude became uninterested in him.
'You're good at singing, but you can't dance.'
After a few days of trying, the choreographer's expectations for Park Moondae disappeared. He even thought bluntly.
'It's getting annoying.'
"We'll begin the grade evaluation."
The boring prelude came out.
Park Moondae started the first move. Then, he turned around by pulling both arms in a big move.
"….?"
The first person to feel out of place was the choreographer.
'Is the line different?'
Until the last face-to-face class just two days ago, Park Moondae had no such thing as a 'dance line.'
The sense of matching the point of connection and disconnection, the point of giving and taking power.
If that is the difference between rhythm and dance, then Park Moondae's movements were rhythmic.
Obviously, it was—.
'Why…are you good at dancing?'