Chapter 33: The Midpoint Trial

They shouted out the team name that had been hastily created that morning under Ha Jin-woo’s direction, following the production team’s orders.

Son Chae-i, with her head slightly lowered, lifted only her eyes to glance at them.

The trainers and participants from other teams also showed no particular reaction.

It was because the previous teams had also shouted out similarly strange names, not much different from theirs, but the silence was so profound that Jae-seo thought receiving ridicule might actually have been less embarrassing.

“Then we’ll see the stage right away.”

At Son Chae-i’s words, they formed their formation with perfect synchronization.

Yoon Ji-heon signaled to the staff that they were ready, and soon the accompaniment for ‘July Snow’ began to play.

Immediately, the gazes of Son Chae-i and the trainers converged on them.

Not long after the first ordeal—the cute act during the intro—came the second ordeal: his first part, the opening verse.

Moving as if walking out from among the members who had circled around and were spreading left and right, he raised the microphone in his hand.

As he began to sing, the eyes of everyone sitting at the table immediately focused solely on him.

The pressure made him feel stiff down to his fingertips, but he tried his best to move his body smoothly as he continued singing and dancing.

Once his part was over, his tension began to ease little by little.

It was because members better than him kept appearing after him, making him think that even if he was a little lacking, it would probably be okay.

He safely completed the second verse pre-chorus and bridge parts, and from then on, he focused all his attention on the dance.

Before he knew it, the song had ended, a little over three minutes having passed.

After catching his breath for a moment, he followed Yoon Ji-heon, who was moving to stand on the white tape.

After lining up in a row, they bowed in greeting at Yoon Ji-heon’s signal.

Son Chae-i picked up the microphone on the table and opened her mouth.

“This is the team that was chosen first with the center privilege during team selection, right?”

At Son Chae-i’s words, some trainers who hadn’t attended their sessions let out “Ahh” in admiration and nodded.

“On one hand, I had expectations because so many skilled friends were picked, but on the other hand, I was also worried….”

Come to think of it, in the previous season of Please Take Care of My Idol, the team chosen with the center privilege had received very poor evaluations, so that made sense.

Son Chae-i quickly flipped through papers that looked like their team members’ application forms, then lifted her head and looked at them.

“You prepared well.”

As she said this, the corners of Son Chae-i’s mouth curled up in a satisfied smile.

It was the first smile she’d shown since the mid-point check began.

“Even individually, they’re good, but the combination was put together very cleverly, don’t you think?”

At her question, seemingly seeking agreement, the trainers nodded.

Son Chae-i’s meaningful gaze turned toward Seo Jun-jae.

“Each person’s role comes across very clearly.”

As Kwak Jinwoong added his words and gaze, Son Chae-i smiled with a quite pleased expression.

Actually, Jae-seo had thought that they’d first picked the obviously skilled ones—Yeo Hyun-tae, Yoon Ji-heon, Lee Chan-seo—and then filled the rest by conscientiously picking one by one from the lower grades, but apparently that wasn’t the case.

“Well, I’m a dance trainer, so let me just talk about the dance….”

Kwak Jinwoong withdrew his gaze from Seo Jun-jae and scanned them as he continued.

“Actually, just looking at the choreography, it might feel a bit plain, but at exactly the right moments, there are very sophisticated points inserted, which rather made it interesting.”

At Eum Yu-sol’s nod and confirmation that they’d changed it themselves, Kwak Jinwoong made an “Oh!” shape with his mouth and looked toward where Seo Jun-jae, Yeo Hyun-tae, and Yoon Ji-heon were standing side by side.

He then chuckled and muttered, “Well done.”

Eum Yu-sol, with his microphone lowered, began saying something, and soon Son Chae-i joined in.

The three of them continued a brief conversation before Kwak Jinwoong raised his microphone again.

“I can see you’ve all practiced a lot.

Especially Young-bin—you’ve improved astonishingly.”

When Kwak Jinwoong praised Jang Young-bin, not only Eum Yu-sol and Son Chae-i but even the other trainers who were outsiders to dance nodded in agreement.

Vocal trainer Moon Gi-hoon even shot his thumb up.

Then, from beside him, Jae-seo heard Jang Young-bin inhale sharply, as if holding back tears.

Thinking he should perhaps pat his back like Yoon Ji-heon had done during training, he started to turn his head when—

“And Jae-seo too.”

His name was suddenly called.

“You look like a completely different person from the initial evaluation.

If there’s a position evaluation next time, Jae-seo should come to the dance position—”

“No!

Jin-woong ssam, wait a moment!

Jae-seo has improved tremendously in vocals too!”

Won Ju-ha, with an urgent expression, reached out to stop Kwak Jinwoong and shot a look at Moon Gi-hoon beside her as if asking for help.

Moon Gi-hoon quickly picked up the microphone in front of him.

“I was so surprised when the verse started earlier—his tone is so good.

There might be many friends who are better at dancing, but in terms of vocal tone, he’s in a practically unrivaled position?”

At Moon Gi-hoon’s words, Won Ju-ha looked at Kwak Jinwoong with an “I told you so” expression, but Kwak Jinwoong shook his head, insisting that if taught, he’d do even better at dance too.

Watching the trainers argue over his position with unexpected, undeserved compliments left Jae-seo feeling dazed.

“Alright, teachers, please calm down.”

As their conversation lengthened, Son Chae-i stretched both arms out wide to calm Won Ju-ha and Kwak Jinwoong, subtly gesturing with her eyes toward where the production team was standing.

Following Son Chae-i’s gaze, he saw a writer shaking a sketchbook toward the trainer’s table.

He didn’t know what was written on it, but seeing it, the two nodded and placed their microphones back on the table.

“The other teachers have given plenty of praise, so if I were to point out something that needs fixing—your expressions are too blank.”

Even the trainers who had been competitively praising him earlier nodded in agreement with Son Chae-i’s words.

“Compared to a month ago, your facial expressions have improved.

But still, they’re very lacking.”

Hearing harsh criticism about his expressions, his Acting stat naturally came to mind.

Unlike his Vocal and Dance stats, which had grown rapidly with support from his Intelligence and Stamina stats, despite taking acting lessons sporadically during the roughly one month between the first and second camps, his Acting stat points were still scraping the bottom.

Recalling his Acting stat points, now just barely over 100, he swallowed the sigh that threatened to escape and obediently nodded.

***

The mid-point check, which had started at 9 AM, didn’t end until well past 2 PM.

With the filming lasting over five hours, not only the trainees but even Son Chae-i and the trainers all showed clear signs of exhaustion.

Though it was time for a late lunch, the filming wasn’t over.

This was because the lunch menu prepared in the cafeteria—chicken and pizza—was an indirect advertisement for a certain chicken brand.

Muttering the lines the writer had instructed beforehand, he put pizza in his mouth.

Lee Woo-rim, sitting diagonally across from him, declared it self-censored, saying it was too obvious it was scripted.

Since it was indeed scripted, and the production team probably hadn’t expected much from him anyway, he just nodded vaguely and finished the remaining pizza.

After lunch, the afternoon filming resumed in the hall.

Son Chae-i, looking refreshed with no trace of the fatigue from an hour ago, stepped onto the platform and smiled, the corners of her mouth curving upward.

Her expression seemed somehow mischievous, unlike before.

“Did you enjoy your lunch?”

“Yes!”

“Then you’ll need to practice hard with the energy from that delicious chicken and pizza… but before that!

There’s one very important thing left for you all to do.”

The filming schedule for this camp had been announced right after the teams were formed on the second day.

Among them, all schedules corresponding to this afternoon had been marked as self-practice, so the participants looked bewildered and whispered, asking what was happening.

“We need to decide the order for the 1st contest, which will be held in three days.”

No sooner had Son Chae-i finished speaking than gasps burst out here and there.

“The performance order decided today will be the broadcast order as is.”

At her following words, the commotion spread even more.

It wasn’t like they were shooting sparks on stage or adding correction effects to the broadcast screen, yet the trainees were reacting excessively to just an order.

Finding it curious, Jae-seo looked around.

Someone tapped his back with fairly quick, repeated touches.

Turning around, he saw Lee Woo-rim, face flushed with excitement, speaking to him.

“Wow, this is huge!

Right?”

“…Is the order that important?”

Lee Woo-rim made a face telling him not to even ask, leaned close to his ear, and began whispering the reasons why the order was so important.