The cara captured PD Na Sang-yoon’s face in a close-up.
“Wow. You look so pitiful right now.”
“Yes…”
The sight of the composer heaving a deep sigh made the cast and giggle.
“PD, I’m really sorry. Oh my…”
“No, it’s okay…”
Even the bitter PD Na Sang-yoon couldn’t help but smile eventually.
He seed relieved, as if he had just avoided the hassle of editing, sothing he was already too concerned about.
Of course, the entertainers wouldn’t miss such a mont.
“It’s ti for you to go. Your work is done.”
“What? Am I leaving?”
“You’re busy, after all. Thank you for your hard work!”
“…Am I really going just like this? It feels like I only clicked a mouse.”
While we clapped and laughed, PD Na Sang-yoon looked at the cara in confusion.
“No, I told my mom I’d be on MiPro!”
The cast, who had been urging him to leave quickly, burst into satisfied laughter.
The model citizen pointed at the cara.
“Then, why don’t you shoot a video letter before you go?”
“That way? Oh, yes… Mom, as you can see, your son is doing well in Seoul.”
After a 30-second video letter, the composer exited forlornly.
The staff, too, laughed for a long while at his reluctant waving goodbye.
“He left with just a click of the mouse.”
“Wow, even the employees here are fun.”
“Right?”
We said, beaming with pride.
“We’re just average.”
“That’s definitely not true.”
The cast replied firmly.
As the laughter left behind by the composer began to dissipate, we all applauded and celebrated.
“Our Universe Teacher has spontaneously created our fan song!”
“Let’s listen to it once more in celebration, shall we?”
As the song played again, the cast exclaid in awe.
Jiho chuckled.
“How is it? The chorus I made for this song.”
“It’s good. I like it.”
The praise was imdiate.
“I may not know much about composing, but I can definitely feel Mr. Producer’s touch.”
“Wow. Our lody has been incorporated like this.”
“He writes songs so well. If I had t a composer like him, my album wouldn’t have flopped.”
Singer Ahn Jae-hee’s self-deprecating joke elicited a small laugh.
The mbers were genuinely surprised to see the short lody they had created transford in such a way.
I clapped my hands to draw their attention.
“We still have a long way to go before the song is complete. Let’s stop here and start with the howork for our seniors.”
“Lyrics?”
“That’s right!”
Turning my head, I saw Rihyuk diligently writing sothing on an A4 paper.
He then handed the paper to the MiPro cast.
“Wow, your handwriting is really beautiful.”
“It looks even prettier on paper. I thought it was printed.”
Our child’s ears and shoulders puffed up with pride at the complint that his handwriting could be sold as a font.
We all agreed.
It was a recurring debate among us: whether it was ‘Thin Pirarucu’ or ‘Clear Neua’ font.
“What are these cute little circles for, Teacher Rihyuk?”
“They’re the syllable count you need to fill.”
Rihyuk explained, pointing at the paper divided into a 3/3/4 pattern of circles.
“For example, if you fill in these circles, it would go like, ‘I am.’”
“A potato.”
“I love it. Just write like this.”
I said with a smile, nodding at them.
“Mr. Producer’s show is one that many people enjoy watching. We have a lot of fans.”
“Everyone knows that~”
“Just think of it as a letter from the heart to those devoted viewers.”
The cast smirked, seemingly struck by an idea.
“Like the daily ssages you send us, Teacher Rihyuk?”
“Exactly that!”
The letter I received cos to mind. Sotis… tears… they co…
“Like the winter-enduring pampas grass~”
It was us and the cast, turning poetic and lyrical content into sothing charmingly rustic.
Thump.
As Ri-hyeok kicked off the ground and spun his chair to hide, the watching writers chuckled, finding it adorable.
“That was a good rapport.”
“You did so well! High five~”
Together we clinked and wrapped up the discussion about the fan song.
Now, it was ti to broach the subject of our official debut.
“We’ve decided on the team na, right? A-ten.”
“That’s right. A~ten!”
“Usually, you practice the basics to improve your skills before discussing a debut…”
But this is a one-ti project.
“Given the ti constraints, we decided it’s best to quickly choose a song.”
The cast’s lack of dance skills was one of the reasons.
It’s more efficient to pick one song and practice it over and over.
The Mif mbers agreed.
“Definitely, that seems better. Since it’s practicing the sa choreography over and over.”
“But shouldn’t we decide on the concept first?”
“Right. I heard idol groups usually set the concept first and then solicit songs.”
Everyone swallowed their worries with anxious faces.
“But the concept we can do…”
“Sharp choreography like the New Black teachers is out of the question from the start.”
“And sothing fresh and cool like Teen Spirit is tough too. The idol fans are all like nieces and nephews to us, and if we go ‘woo-woong’ and throw hand kisses at them, we’d deserve to be shackled.”
“How about a sexy concept? Isn’t that sowhat doable?”
The mbers, now lively with color, asked us.
“How about a sexy concept that plays on maturity?”
“Uhmm…”
“It seems the teachers don’t quite agree.”
I waved my hands in dismissal.
“It’s not that, but a sexy concept is really difficult. The audience has to go ‘wow!’ when they see the stage.”
“Right.”
“It requires a harmony of facial expressions, choreography, and visuals to achieve…”
It was hard to explain in words, so we decided to show them directly.
Our choreography cheat key stood up on its own.
“It’s our C-grade visual teacher!”
“C-grade! C-grade!”
As Visu embarrassedly laughed, everyone giggled.
“…?”
Visu slightly lifted his chin, and the air in the studio changed in an instant.
With half-closed eyes and an elegantly outstretched hand.
He drew a curve with a smooth wave, and everyone exclaid in awe.
It was an easy move, but it exuded an aura that seed hard to follow for anyone watching.
Visu laughed ‘hehe’ and everyone snapped out of their imrsion, but the exclamations of ‘wow’ continued.
I asked them.
“This is the easiest… Can you do it? Sexy?”
“No…”
They all seed to bow down as they spoke.
“We were wrong. We’ll just do as we’re told.”
“So, what concept do you think suits us, according to the New Black teachers?”
“We’ve thought of one.”
“Oh!”
Wasn’t the average age of the senior mbers 33.5?
“There’s a genre that can look even cooler because of the age range.”
And.
“While sharp choreography is good, there’s one that suits a bit more free-spirited dance.”
There was a concept that ca to mind from the first ti we saw it.
When discussing with the younger mbers and consulting with experts around us, the reaction was quite good.
We exclaid with a smile.
“The genre we’ve chosen is none other than disco-style funk music!”
“Disco…?”
The Mif mbers tilted their heads in confusion.
“Isn’t disco old music? Like ‘bam bam bam’ stuff.”
“What exactly is disco-style funk?”
I said, “It feels sothing like this.”
Last year, I played them a song that was all the rage in Arica, along with others of a similar genre.
Songs that make you want to dance along with their thumping beats.
The cast of ‘MIF’ got it imdiately, ‘Ah!’ they exclaid, enjoying the relatively free-spirited choreography.
“This looks like sothing we can nail with practice.”
“Yes, it’s a bottomless pit once you dive deep, but… I think it’s a concept we can definitely pull off.”
That’s when ballad singer An Jae-hee asked, “Doesn’t it feel too pop? Isn’t it a bit far from the idol style?”
“Ah, these are Arican songs. There are idols who have released similar tracks.”
After hearing a few songs, everyone seed to grasp the vibe.
Kim Eui-ji, who had been struggling to keep up, asked again, “So… we’re going for a super exciting concept? Is that it?”
“Yes.”
“Wow, that’s great!”
Finally, their applause and smiles made laugh.
Next to them, Jiho boasted with a grin, “In front of these people, I’m the music gold dalist…!” and I laughed again.
The mbers of A-ten said with satisfied faces, “We really like it.”
“I’m relieved. I was worried about how it would be received.”
“The song is crucial though… How about our dear teacher, who’s already decided on the concept, gives us a song too…?”
They looked at expectantly, half-joking.
I replied with a smile, “As I said, I won’t participate unless it’s a fan song.”
“Absolutely not?”
“Not absolutely, but… yes.”
I wanted to, but the project felt a hundred tis more daunting.
It was all because of ‘Nakhwa.’
If ‘Nakhwa’ does well and this song doesn’t, it’s a problem. If ‘Nakhwa’ doesn’t do well and this song does, it’s also a problem.
And if neither does well, that’s an even bigger issue.
No matter which way you go, noise is inevitable, so I desperately wanted to decline.
“Once we open up the song contest, all the renowned composers and hidden masters nationwide will show up.”
“Ah… that’s a sha.”
“There are many out there far better than . Really.”
Considering MIF’s popularity, it was certain that a great song would erge.
With that, we wrapped up the discussion on the concept.
I gave them a few more assignnts and concluded the recording.
“Great work, everyone!”
“You all did really well. Tired, aren’t you?”
After the caras were off, everyone expressed their gratitude for the hard work.
Next week, the recordings would be more sporadic, so we took our ti saying our goodbyes.
That’s when I sought out soone in the corner.
“Excuse , senior.”
“…Hmm?”
Hong Seok, wiping sweat off his tired face, turned to .
I asked with a smile, “Can we talk for a mont?”
“Sure. Of course.”
“Then, this way…”
We moved to our studio right away.
I handed a paper cup to the model, who sat on the sofa looking bewildered.
“Is maple tree water okay?”
“Yeah. I don’t usually drink during recordings or anything. I’m not picky… Huh? Maple tree water?”
“It’s from Jung-hyun’s father.”
“Ah…”
I watched him gulp down the water before speaking up.
“The dancing is quite tough, isn’t it?”
“A bit…?”
“I saw you practicing the choreography in the basent earlier, and it seed like you were feeling a lot of pressure.”
He looked at quietly and then smiled.
“It is a bit tough, yeah.”
Wasn’t this project his dream?
But it was the compulsive extent of his practice that worried .
Hong Seok said slowly, “I’m naturally slow at learning things physically… I have to do it ten tis to match what others can do in one.”
“Goodness…”
“Fascinating, isn’t it? But that’s just how my body works.”
It wasn’t ant to be a sigh of that sort, but the other person scratched the back of their head with an awkward smile.
Then they fiddled with a paper cup.
“This idol project, it’s sothing I wanted to do, so I started it.”
“Yes.”
“But it won’t do if I’m not good at it. I don’t have to be the best, but I can’t be a hindrance, right?”
I listened quietly to their story.
“Dance isn’t sothing you can improve overnight. That’s probably why I feel so frustrated.”
“I understand. We all have those monts.”
“Of course, the standards are different for you…”
I waved my hands in denial, but there was a slight gloom in their eyes, a look of being disheartened.
It reminded of myself in the past.
That’s how I would be after the monthly evaluations at TJ.
Every ti I heard the trainers’ assessnts, I felt like I was just a speck of dust in the world.
Not that I ever let it get down.
If I showed any sign of being disheartened or discouraged, it could lead to a decline in performance and eventually being let go.
“I think you’re doing really well,” I said.
“Really?”
“You practice so hard.”
They laughed at the response, “What’s so good about that?”
“Feelings are beyond our control. It’s natural to feel frustrated when you hit a slump or don’t see improvent.”
“…?”
“But you’re still practicing diligently. That’s what really counts!”
Emotions fade with ti, but skills remain, I said, and they cracked a slight smile.
Then, with a slightly brighter expression, they put down the paper cup.
“Thanks for the comfort.”
They picked up their coat.
A mber of Mif who was about to leave for more practice suddenly turned back and said, “Ah.”
“Can I ask you a few things?”
“About what?”
“I have so questions about dancing, and when I asked Bijoo, I couldn’t understand the explanation…”
“We sotis struggle with it too.”
They pulled out their phone, smiling, and I answered each question listed in their notes.
As I explained in detail, their face lit up.
“Thanks. I’ll treat you to a al later.”
“Will it be beef?”
“There’s no reason it can’t be.”
I smiled broadly and said to the person grabbing the door handle.
“Senior.”
“…?”
“I know the pressure of dancing can be overwhelming, but don’t worry too much.”
They looked at as if asking what I ant, and I smiled.
There was sothing I wished a producer had told during my trainee days at TJ, sothing that would never have been said in a place where only dance mattered.
“Even if you’re lacking a bit, the choreography can be compensated with other elents.”
“Really?”
“You sing well. And how the stage is set can make a big difference, depending on the producer.”
Dance isn’t everything when it cos to performing.
“I’ll ask the producers to create a fantastic stage for you. Don’t worry.”
“Okay.”
Hongseok grinned and thanked .
“Thank you. I’m counting on you.”
We said goodbye, promising to see each other at the next recording, and as they left, their steps seed lighter. I felt a slight lift in my spirits.
Watching them go, I moved on as well.
It was ti to open the door to the underground practice room to rehearse the dance of Nakwha.
“Universe, I’m here!”
And at that mont.
“…?”
I froze in place.
It was disconcerting.
In a place that should have been filled only with my younger siblings, five uncles were also sitting there.
“Universe…”
“Here I am…?”
The imdiate burst of laughter from them like a band of bandits gave a headache.
Mr. Choo Giseok cackled away.
It wasn’t ant to be a sigh, but he scratched the back of his head awkwardly and chuckled.
Then he fiddled with the paper cup.
“This idol project, it was my idea to start it.”
“Yes.”
“But if I can’t do it, that’s not good. I don’t have to be the best, but I shouldn’t cause any harm.”
I listened quietly to his story.
“Dance isn’t sothing you can improve overnight. That’s probably why I feel so frustrated.”
“I understand. Everyone has those monts.”
“Of course, the standards are different for you…”
I waved my hands in denial, but his slightly gloomy eyes betrayed his deflated spirit.
It reminded of myself in the past.
That’s how I felt after the monthly evaluations at TJ.
Every ti I heard the trainers’ assessnts, I felt like I was just a speck of dust in the world.
Not that I ever let it show.
If I got down or lost confidence, it would lead to a decline in performance and eventually getting cut. I knew that all too well.
“I think you’re doing really well,” I said.
“Do you?”
“You practice so hard.”
He laughed at my response, as if to say what does that have to do with being good.
“It’s natural to feel stuck sotis, whether it’s a slump or not seeing improvent.”
“…?”
“But you’re still practicing diligently. That’s what really counts!”
He smiled slightly at my fundantal point that emotions fade with ti, but skills remain.
Then, with a sowhat brighter expression, he put down the paper cup.
“Thanks for the comfort.”
He picked up his coat.
A mber of Mipe, about to leave for more practice, paused and turned back.
“Can I ask you a few things?”
“About what?”
“I have so questions about dancing. When I asked Bizu, I couldn’t understand his explanations…”
“We sotis struggle with that too.”
He took out his phone as I answered with a smile.
He must have had a lot of questions, as he scrolled through his notes app, and I answered each one.
As I explained in detail, his face lit up.
“Thanks. I’ll treat you to a al later.”
“Will it be beef?”
“There’s no reason it can’t be.”
I laughed heartily and said to him as he reached for the door handle.
“Senior.”
“…?”
“Don’t worry too much about the pressure of dancing.”
He looked at as if asking what I ant, and I smiled.
There was sothing I had always wanted to hear from a producer during my trainee days.
Sothing that would never be said at TJ, where dance was everything.
“Even if you’re lacking a bit, you can make up for it in other ways.”
“Really?”
“You sing well. And how the stage is set can make a big difference, depending on the producer.”
Dance isn’t everything when it cos to performing.
“I’ll ask the producers to make sure your stage is spectacular. Don’t worry too much.”
“Okay.”
Hongseok grinned and thanked .
“Thanks. I’m counting on you.”
We said goodbye, promising to see each other at the next recording. As he walked away with a lighter step, I felt a slight lift in my spirits.
Watching him go, I moved on as well.
It was ti to open the door to the underground practice room and resu practicing the dance for Nakwha.
“Universe, I’m here!”
And at that mont.
“…?”
I froze in place.
It was disconcerting.
In a place where only my younger siblings should have been, five uncles were also sitting there.
“Universe…”
“Here I am…?”
They burst into laughter like a band of bandits, giving a headache.
Choo Giseok cackled away.
“Has the universe arrived?”
“Wow, isn’t our universe cute? Top-notch cuteness, absolutely.”
“So this is how you play when you’re together?”
I was teased by the jubilant uncles for nearly 10 minutes, almost like enduring all four verses of the national anthem.
When the playful banter finally ended, I asked the group sitting around the campfire in a large circle.
“What are you all doing here?”
“Oh, we were practicing and had so questions about the choreography…”
It seed like everyone had ticulously noted down what wasn’t working and what needed more work in their notebooks.
Especially for the eldest brother, Kim Eui-ji, his notes were so dense it reminded once again that he was a national representative.
Choo Ki-seok chuckled and said,
“Seeing Seok working so hard, we old folks thought we shouldn’t beco a burden.”
“But then, he gets really stressed if we make it obvious that we’re helping. So we ca here secretly.”
“That’s great, Woojoo. Since you’re here, why don’t you teach us so moves?”
I nodded with a smile at their words.
Though I was imdiately teased with ‘Can you really do it?’ which left feeling a bit sour.
For a mont, I felt like I understood why this ordinary variety show was called the nation’s favorite.
“So, can you teach us?”
“…”
“Hahaha!”
“Everyone, please stand up!”
I said with a gentle smile, like a soft rain.
“I’ll start by teaching you the stretching routine I devised from yoga poses.”
“Woojoo, there’s a fire in your eyes…”
Soon after, screams began to erupt from the practice room.
And that night.
As an apology for the afternoon’s Mif recording, I helped Producer Na Sang-yoon with his music composition.
“Are you submitting this for the competition?”
“Yes.”
“I hope it goes well.”
“Thanks. But first, I need your help…”
The song would be chosen by a vote among the Mif mbers, but it seed my help was needed first as the one who had co up with the concept.
“What kind of song are you looking for exactly?”
“Sothing that has a disco feel but is trendy. Without the retro vibe that you usually get from disco.”
“Hmm, give a mont.”
Producer Na Sang-yoon pondered for a while before moving his hands.
A sowhat jarring combination of notes filled the air.
“Like this?”
“No, sothing with a faster tempo.”
“How about this?”
“Too fast. Isn’t that just disco? The funky feel is totally lost.”
“Then show an example.”
“Just a second.”
I placed my hands on the keyboard.
Inspired by the lody Producer Na Sang-yoon had created, I began crafting sothing new.
“What I an is… it starts like this.”
“Okay.”
“And then it goes like this.”
As I played with my right hand, I tapped the body of the keyboard with my left to mimic the drum sounds.
I nodded at Producer Na Sang-yoon, who seed intrigued.
“Then you layer it like this.”
“Okay.”
“And then…”
To add a lively touch, I accented the lody every two beats.
At that mont, Producer Na Sang-yoon raised his hand to stop the playing.
“Woojoo.”
“Yes?”
“This sounds like sothing you made. A song?”
“…What?”
When we played back the recording, there was a complete song.
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“Oh…?”
“…”
“I can’t believe the songwriting went this smoothly. Why is this happening?”
I was genuinely flustered.
It had been a long ti since a song had flowed out of like this.
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