Ch. 5
Chapter 5: Grade Evaluation (1)
Han Dawon, the MC in charge of hosting the Stardust Project, briefly closed his tired eyes.
He had just watched the performances of over a dozen trainees in a row.
Some of them were decent enough, but honestly, more of them were below expectations.
It wasn't that the trainees from Doubles Entertainment, one of the Big 3 agencies, lacked skill.
It was just that the idols he was used to seeing were from the top-tier groups.
Watching the raw performances of unpolished trainees one after another brought on a wave of fatigue.
“Please introduce yourself.”
“I’m Do Seohan, a trainee at Doubles Entertainment for six months! I look forward to your support!”
Han Dawon lifted his heavy eyelids and put on a broadcast-ready smile.
But he wasn’t interested at all.
The previous performer had been Kevin, who had given such an amazing performance that even a sleepy judge like him had perked up.
‘Poor kid. Bad timing.’
The judges were already exhausted. So unless it was an outstanding stage, it wouldn’t catch their attention.
If there was nothing particularly interesting here, it might not even make it to the broadcast and get cut entirely.
Han Dawon briefly skimmed the resume in front of him.
Judging by the monthly evaluation scores, he didn’t seem like someone who stood out.
“He hasn’t been here long. Was he at another company before this?”
“I trained for about five years.”
“You said you’ve been here for six months, but you’ve got quite the experience. Not exactly a rookie.”
“You’re young, but you’ve trained for quite a while. Why haven’t you debuted yet?”
“He’s still young. Seventeen?”
The other trainers made indifferent comments, seemingly sharing the same sentiment.
Among them, only one person had a sparkle in their eyes.
Vocal trainer Yoo Minseo, who had strongly recommended Do Seohan.
“……”
While everyone else was silent, she sat with her fingers interlocked, looking up at Do Seohan. Her eyes were practically dripping with sweetness. With a bright smile, she added,
“He seems to have a lot of charm. Such an attractive face.”
“Ah, thank you!”
Hearing that, Han Dawon took another look at him.
Maybe it was the lighting, but just in terms of appearance, he was fairly handsome.
“…That’s true.”
His features weren’t flashy or striking, but his round eyes and defined facial structure stood out. The way he stretched his neck nervously and looked around...
Well.
He looked like a hamster caught trying to escape its cage.
“Cute.”
He had the freshness typical of someone his age.
Han Dawon chuckled lightly and looked away.
“What song did you prepare?”
Even as he asked the scripted question, Han Dawon was fairly confident. Judging by trends so far, trainees with that kind of look usually picked songs that highlighted their appearance.
Something light, easy, but that could leave a cute impression.
That kind of song would suit him perfectly.
‘It’s smarter to go for the youngest member position vibe.’
Unless his skills were outstanding, that would be the better choice.
Especially in the first evaluation, when a trainee’s image was being shaped.
But then.
The words that came out of Do Seohan’s mouth were completely unexpected.
“I prepared LROY sunbae-nims’ ‘Dancing on Movie.’”
“What?”
Only then did Han Dawon notice the song choice written at the bottom.
The faces of the trainers sitting beside him stiffened all at once—except for Yoo Minseo.
“‘Dancing on Movie’?”
“You’re going to do that here?”
“Wait. Are you serious?”
Han Dawon glanced at the other judges as he asked.
“Why? What kind of song is it?”
“It’s LROY’s debut song. It’s a really difficult song.”
One of the judges, rubbing his aching forehead, added a brief explanation.
LROY’s “Dancing on Movie,” shortened to “Dan-O-Mu,” was one of LROY’s representative songs and a current hit.
On the surface, it didn’t seem like a problematic choice, but the issue lay in its difficulty. A song with a dreamy, enigmatic vibe.
Now that he thought about it, it did sound odd.
‘That kid’s doing that…?’
The hamster blinking up at them was talking about pulling off something that complex.
Han Dawon blurted out without thinking.
“You think you can pull that off?”
“Ah, I’d like to stop him.”
The camera was capturing the trainers’ reactions in real-time.
If he was trying to draw attention with a unique song choice, then he had succeeded.
At the very least, he wouldn’t be edited out entirely.
Though, there was still the concern that he might get mocked.
The judge sitting next to Han Dawon let out a short sigh.
“Dan-O-Mu is… ah… it’s going to be hard for a trainee to pull it off. Let’s see for now.”
“Dancing on Movie” was a song where the difficulty didn’t lie just in the vocals or the choreography, but in capturing its enigmatic mood.
If interpreted poorly, it would end up looking like four minutes of a jellyfish-like sexy dance.
In fact, one rookie idol once covered it on a broadcast and was endlessly mocked afterward.
Yoo Minseo asked with a slight smile.
“You do know this is a difficult song, right?”
“Yes, I do.”
In other words, she was asking whether he really thought he could capture that atmosphere.
But Do Seohan flashed a smile full of confidence.
“I’ll give it a try.”
A dreamy synthesizer began to hum heavily in the background.
At the same time, Do Seohan slowly walked forward.
“Will he be able to do well?”
“I’d be satisfied if he just does average, for this song.”
Almost immediately after the judges spoke, Do Seohan picked up the mic.
Future bass genre. Over a heavy beat, Do Seohan began stacking his notes.
Still can’t figure it out
Still can’t figure it out
Not quite singing, not quite rapping—a low murmuring voice.
This was perhaps the part where vocal tone mattered the most.
At that moment, Yoo Minseo widened her eyes.
This place I’m trapped in is probably a prison
The unreachable end of the darkness
Do Seohan’s greatest strength, despite an otherwise unremarkable vocal performance.
His uniquely gifted tone.
‘Don’t tell me.’
He chose this song over countless others.
Because he thought it showcased his tone the best?
If that were the case, Do Seohan had found the answer.
His soft voice resonated with power, word by word.
There was a strange power in that voice.
Not quite rap, not quite song.
A melody with an uncanny rhythm.
“What?”
The trainers who had earlier been shaking their heads with certainty now looked confused.
“His expressions are good.”
“R-Right?”
You, who let go, are probably a prisoner
I’m trying to bring an end to this meaningless wandering
Maybe it was the lighting.
The once bright gaze now shimmered mysteriously, and Do Seohan smoothly glided across the small stage.
“Oh…”
“What is this?”
Han Dawon raised an eyebrow as he watched Do Seohan’s movements.
Being an actor, he wasn’t professionally trained in dance, but he had instincts.
Something about it caught the eye.
The bold reach of his hands. The smooth transitions without a hitch.
The fundamentals he had built from a young age were shining through.
And most of all.
The expressions that other trainers had criticized earlier.
‘…He’s pretty good.’
Whether intentional or natural, the subtle eye smiles were oddly captivating.
A deadly hamster.
It might sound strange, but Do Seohan was fully committed to the concept and poured out his charm.
Bounce. Bounce.
Choreography that lightly jumped to the dreamy sound.
This song could easily look like a wobbly jellyfish dance, but the precise control of intensity made it aesthetically pleasing.
Only then did the judges begin to stir.
Just moments ago, they were dozing off. They hadn’t shown an ounce of interest.
Now, all of them were watching Seohan with sparkling eyes.
“This kid’s name was Seohan, right?”
“Wow, seriously. This is such a hard song.”
“Look at his eyes. He looks like he’s going to devour the stage.”
This was a performance they thought would end with him becoming the next “Dan-O-Mu” meme victim plastered across forums.
Even the production team had planned to edit it in that direction as soon as they saw the song choice.
But.
No one had expected him to actually pull it off.
Seohan stepped forward boldly, just like in the intro, with a sly smile.
As if he was already sure of victory, his once mysterious gaze now burned intensely.
Bounce-bounce—bounce-bounce—
Still can’t figure it out
Still can’t figure it out
Now I try to understand you
The moment the stage ended in that mysterious atmosphere.
“…Wow.”
“Waaaah!”
Everyone started clapping like they were under a spell.
“That was insane.”
“He really pulled it off. A fifth-year trainee really is something else.”
“Seriously.”
Cough.
Ha Junseo turned his head and cleared his throat after choking.
It was because he had downed an Americano out of nerves.
“Cough… wow. He’s seriously good.”
“Waaaah!”
Backstage had already erupted.
“LROY’s ‘Dan-O-Mu’…”
Wow, there’s someone actually performing that in a survival show.
In fact, Ha Junseo had been watching Do Seohan’s performance from a spot where he could see the stage.
Honestly, it was at an incredible level.
Though he himself had consistently ranked high in monthly evaluations, if someone had told him to perform that, he would’ve definitely refused.
It was a difficult stage. Even a decent cover would likely have drawn criticism.
There was no real standout highlight, and the whole thing was laced with a dreamy base and extremely tricky choreography.
But.
It weirdly suited him.
It wasn’t so much that Do Seohan executed it at a pro level, but more that he interpreted it cleanly and skillfully, as if it were his own song.
There was zero sense of awkwardness.
“Amazing, Do Seohan.”
On stage, the judges were still delivering their evaluations.
They seemed to be thinking the same thing as Ha Junseo.
As if still caught in the lingering emotions, Yoo Minseo took a moment before picking up the mic.
“Why did you choose this song?”
“…I personally like it and wanted to try performing it.”
“You dance really well. This is a really difficult song, right?”
“You’re not exactly a top-tier singer, but maybe it’s your voice. It was really charming.”
“If you just improve your vocals a bit more, I think you’ll stand out even more. Your fundamentals are already solid.”
“He’s not a five-year trainee for nothing.”
It’s not like you can drastically improve your vocals in a short time. He chose a song that best showcased his tone. He was confident in his ability to hold his own in terms of mood and dance.
It was a song choice that reflected Do Seohan’s determination to leave an impact in the grade evaluation.
Clap, clap, clap.
Applause broke out again.
Choreographer Choi Myunghwan. He took the mic from Yoo Minseo and spoke.
“I’ve seen Do Seohan’s performance during the monthly evaluation. Back then, I felt he lacked something to really draw me in.”
“Oh, I feel the same.”
“But today, the moment the performance began, the aura… I could just feel something.”
“Like, ‘This kid’s got it,’ that kind of feeling?”
From Do Seohan’s perspective, this praise was unexpected. But to any third party who had seen the performance, it was likely they’d say the same. Ha Junseo nodded, agreeing with Choi Myunghwan.
“You could really feel it.”
If you looked back on Do Seohan’s presence…
Well. Before the Stardust Project, it was minimal.
Just a smart and kind younger trainee. That’s how he was remembered by Ha Junseo.
That calm personality had made him easy to befriend, and they’d become close, but even he hadn’t imagined Do Seohan had that kind of talent hidden within.
“He’s good, Seohan.”
At that moment, Han Dawon smiled and picked up the mic again.
“Yes, thank you for the great performance.”
The panel of judges turned back after briefly murmuring among themselves.
“Then we’ll now announce the first evaluation grade for trainee Do Seohan.”
This was definitely going to be an A-grade.
Ha Junseo mumbled quietly with confidence. The other trainees around him seemed to agree, with expressions that said there was nothing more to see.
“Wow, another A-grade right after Kevin hyung.”
“Yeah, seriously.”
It was a performance everyone could accept, and considering the difficulty of the song, even an A might not be enough.
“Yes, we’ll now reveal trainee Do Seohan’s grade evaluation… on screen.”
Flash—
The moment Do Seohan’s grade appeared on the screen.
Ha Junseo frowned in surprise before he could stop himself.
“What the… is that?”