Top Star by Luck

Chapter 113

A near future.

There was an audition broadcast format that suddenly became popular in Korea.

[We Are Dancers]

It was dance.

And that too, team dance.

While traditional dance mostly focused on solo performances, dance programs in the 2020s were specialized in team dancing.

‘A nationwide dance boom arose.’

It was like the vocal audition boom of the 2010s.

As the broadcast became a massive hit, people suddenly started dancing more, and dance crews, which had been a hobby for only a few, multiplied severalfold.

Anyway.

In that background, there was someone who became a sudden star.

[CKED].

He was a dancer known as [Sikade].

Even before the auditions, he was famous for showing up in busy areas, playing songs like flash mobs, and dancing alone.

But there was one distinctive thing about him.

[Sikade, who on earth is he?]

[Dancer hides identity. Analyzing Sikade]

He thoroughly hid his identity.

Sometimes, he would wear a hooded sweatshirt covering his entire head, or even a massive mask to prevent his face from being exposed.

As if that wasn’t enough, he insisted on wearing baggy balloon pants.

‘He deliberately covered himself completely.’

Like a patient allergic to sunlight.

It was hard to consider this normal behavior for a dancer.

The fact that his body’s outline wasn’t visible was a huge risk, and dancers usually crave attention.

Why do people dance?

To put it bluntly, they do it because they want to stand out.

They want the public to acknowledge that their dance is cool, that their skills are exceptional.

Isn’t this the common goal of most creators?

‘But Sikade was the opposite.’

It seemed like he wanted to be recognized solely for his dancing while hiding his identity completely.

Naturally, he hid at live performances as well.

Even people who happened to catch his performance by chance didn’t realize it was Sikade, only to find out later when the video was uploaded to the [CKED Official Channel] and be surprised.

At the peak of his popularity, he was even nicknamed the dance terrorist.

‘He hid his body as much as possible, and even with his lines obscured, his exceptional dancing skills stood out.’

With such a solid character and talent, curiosity about his identity was inevitable.

[Speculated to be famous idol B]

[Leader of the nation’s top 4 dance teams, ‘White Owl’: “It’s not me.”]

[Female anchor C, spot on her arm matches Sikade’s]

All the Conan wannabes in the country came out.

Despite that, there was no clear revelation of his identity, and speculation continued for a while.

Finally, there was a turning point.

[Breaking News: Mysterious dancer Sikade reveals participation in We Are Dancers Season 4]

Sikade announced he would appear on the audition program.

And incredibly.

‘He went alone.’

It couldn’t help but become a topic of conversation.

Why was this so surprising?

[We Are Dancers] was, after all, a team competition program.

It was customary for dancers to participate as a team.

Solo participation was against convention.

No, it wasn’t explicitly prohibited, but it was safe to say that no one even made it past the preliminary rounds.

In dance, an individual can never beat a team.

There’s no need to choreograph a group routine.

Even if a team only acted as background props, it made a huge difference in intensity compared to someone dancing alone.

The ability to dominate the stage was like night and day.

Why do world-class dancers always have a legion of backup dancers when they perform solo? There’s a reason for that.

Amidst this, Sikade declared he would compete alone.

And, as if to defy expectations,

[Sikade advances to the semifinals of We Are Dancers 4]

He managed to battle against teams and advance to the semifinals.

Although other teams excelled in utilizing stage props like sprinklers, the common consensus was that Sikade’s dancing skills were superior.

What shocked people even more was the identity Sikade revealed after his elimination.

[“I, dancer Sikade, am Song Woo Dang, a victim of school violence.”]

The fact that he was a victim of school violence shocked people.

He revealed that he was bullied by delinquents in school just because he danced in class, which caused him trauma, so he hid his identity until now.

He said that since he had appeared on television, he felt he no longer needed to hide.

‘…That’s how the story goes.’

But no one would remember someone named Song Woo Dang at this point.

The individual dancer [Cked/Sikade], considered one of Korea’s top technicians, didn’t even have an account.

Only the nameless outcast, Song Woo Dang, existed.

That video replayed in front of him.

“Hmm, not very good.”

Manager Park Han Mo muttered as he watched the video.

“The movements lack confidence. He keeps flinching, as if he’s looking around nervously. It would be difficult for him to audition like this. His eye movements are also off. He isn’t focused on the challenge at all.”

He wasn’t wrong.

On Lee Min Ki’s monitor, Song Woo Dang’s dancing looked awkward, to say the least.

Even the camera filming him was shaking.

[LOL so funny.]

[Woo Dang is our school’s dance king.]

[Almost fell for him.]

[Song Woo Dang, WOO DANG TANG TANG.]

Laughter could even be heard in the background.

‘Is someone threatening him?’

Unless that was the case, it didn’t make sense for Sikade to dance so poorly.

Next year, Sikade was scheduled to begin full-fledged activities, and from the early days of his street performances, he had shocked people purely with his skills.

“……”

What should he do about this?

Lee Min Ki blinked, arms crossed.

‘Should I eliminate him?’

That wasn’t the answer.

It would be a shame to lose this opportunity.

If Song Woo Dang’s skills were real, then in terms of buzz, it would be second to none.

Objectively, this was the best possible material to attract attention to his SNS.

Moreover, the fact that he was a victim of school violence evoked an odd sense of sympathy.

After all, it wasn’t someone else’s problem to suffer unfair bullying.

“Manager, this guy. I think he dances incredibly well.”

“Huh? That’s impossible.”

“I can see it. He’s holding back his strength. If he danced properly, he’d be amazing, but here, he’s not doing it.”

Lee Min Ki pointed to the screen with his fingertips as he continued.

“Just look at his rhythm. He’s not hiding it at all. It looks clumsy, yet it matches perfectly.”

That was Song Woo Dang’s dance.

Even in its overall awkwardness, the undeniable fundamentals stood out like the salt in salted bread.

Matching the Beat.

It was one of the basics of basics, yet something many people overlooked.

You can only see it when you know.

Just like the rhythm of a runway.

“The most basic thing in dancing, they often say, is to put your body where it’s supposed to be. That’s perfection. Especially with isolations—you move only your legs while keeping the rest of your body still. No ordinary person could do that no matter how hard they tried.”

Ruining the process but somehow getting the results.

It was almost a trick.

Lee Min Ki, focusing all his attention back on the video, continued.

“How should I put this... It’s like a master in a fighting game going easy on a beginner.”

At that, Manager Park Han Mo stared at Lee Min Ki with a somewhat surprised expression and asked,

“Are you saying this participant is pretending to be bad on purpose?”

“……I can’t say for sure, but if they get serious and do it properly, they’ll probably do well.”

A moment later.

Manager Park Han Mo let out a small groan and said,

“Actor, did you originally dance?”

“No.”

“For someone who didn’t, you seem to have a good eye for watching dance. Come to think of it…”

As if something clicked, Manager Park Han Mo scratched his chin with his fingers and spoke.

“During the [treatment] music video shoot last time, your dance lines were better than expected.”

“Ah.”

Lee Min Ki coughed awkwardly.

“I practiced a little personally. To get used to using my body. These days, actors can’t make a living just by being good at acting, you know.”

To be exact, since he hadn’t been able to succeed before his death, he tried everything he could.

Even thought about applying to one of those countless dance programs out there.

In the end, after breaking his ankles countless times, he managed to learn a relatively simple shuffle dance.

To others, it might seem trivial, but to him, it was the result of life-or-death effort.

‘Come to think of it, I’ve dabbled in so many things.’

It’s truly amazing how he failed at every single one of them.

And even more so, how all those failed attempts in this life were now turning into massive hits, one by one.

‘Life is strange.’

While Lee Min Ki was lost in complicated thoughts, a distant voice came from beside him.

“Hmm, honestly, for someone like you, I think you could survive just fine by acting well alone, but let’s set this aside for now.”

Manager Park Han Mo pointed at the screen again and said,

“So, are you saying you want to give this student named Song Woo Dang a chance?”

“That’s…”

“You mean, since it looks like they’re hiding their skills, let’s pass them when, strictly speaking, they could be eliminated?”

At the sharp observation, Lee Min Ki flinched.

Right now, giving Song Woo Dang another chance was, in a way, a form of favoritism.

If other participants found out about this, they might feel it was unfair.

People might start talking.

‘That’s why, as a planner, you need to be careful.’

Manager Park Han Mo seemed to have hit this weak point sharply, so Lee Min Ki was carefully choosing his words.

“I don’t quite understand why you’re hesitating.”

A completely unexpected remark came out of Park Han Mo’s mouth.

“You can just do as you wish.”

“What?”

“Reflecting personal bias into judging might reduce fairness, but on the other hand, does it really need to be completely fair? This is an audition, after all.”

Saying an audition doesn’t need to be fair.

It didn’t seem logical, but Manager Park Han Mo continued speaking nonchalantly.

“What I mean is, auditions don’t have to be fair. This is a show, not a sport.”

A show, not a sport.

Hearing that phrase felt like breaking down a wall in his mind.

Manager Park Han Mo calmly added,

“The most famous audition programs are the same. In most cases, more than half of the Top 10 contestants are decided even before the auditions are filmed.”

“Wait, are you saying it’s all pre-arranged?”

“That’s how it is. You need investors to make a show, and where do you think the investment comes from?”

“Entertainment companies?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Manager Park Han Mo nodded and said,

“To recover the massive investments, they have to discover talents who can meet those expectations. Talents with enough market value to be put out immediately. An audition program is, in itself, a huge marketing tool.”

Yeah, that’s true.

That’s pretty well known.

But hearing it directly from an insider, rather than as some vague suspicion, gave him an unsettled feeling.

“Of course, that’s an extreme example. I don’t entirely agree with it either, and many people in the industry see it as a scam.”

Drawing a line, Manager Park Han Mo continued,

“But in my opinion, no matter what methods are used, the ultimate goal is to give consumers greater enjoyment. That’s the essence of entertainment.”

The essence.

The essence of entertainment did align with its etymological root: fun.

So what exactly is fun? Lee Min Ki pondered, and Manager Park Han Mo added one last thing.

“This content is your project, so you can do whatever you want. As long as the audience can accept it.”

The conversation had gotten long.

But the meaning of his words came through quite clearly.

If it’s fun, that’s all that matters.

The fairness of sports lay in following the rules.

But the fairness of a show was subjective.

As long as the final product made sense to the audience, that was enough.

‘So this is what it means to see things from a producer’s perspective.’

It was hard to accept it completely.

In a way, it sounded similar to telling people to accept any corruption that might exist behind auditions without complaint.

The same logic applied to Lee Min Ki himself.

Still, apart from all this, there was one point Manager Park Han Mo was clearly trying to make.

‘You don’t need to be so bound by the rules.’

He could act freely.

As long as he was confident he could satisfy the public’s eyes and ears.

‘Fairness and unfairness, huh.’

It was worth thinking about what true fairness was.

If someone who didn’t deserve it was forced to pass, that would obviously be a problem.

That would undeniably be corruption.

There’d be no room for argument.

But if it was about giving someone a chance to show their real skills—skills they had to hide for some unavoidable reason—then it was worth a try, wasn’t it?

‘Of course, this time, I’ll need to make sure no one interferes so they can dance properly.’

Having reached his own conclusion, Lee Min Ki opened his eyes and said,

“Alright. I want to ask for a re-shoot for this person, Song Woo Dang.”

“Hmm, a re-shoot.”

At those words, Manager Park Han Mo blinked without saying anything, then finally opened his mouth.

Manager Park Han Mo spoke.

“To be honest, I can’t agree with you about the re-shoot.”

“Why not this time?”

Another objection?

Hearing Manager Park Han Mo’s philosophical nagging was enjoyable in its own way, but if he had to hear much more, he felt like his ears might start bleeding.

“Judging someone who already failed once through another video doesn’t seem very meaningful.”

“Then what?”

If he was going to object, he’d surely suggest an alternative.

The Manager Park Han Mo that Lee Min Ki knew wasn’t someone who just objected for no reason.

“Is there another way?”

He asked in that sense.

“Rather than re-filming, wouldn’t it be more reasonable to go check in person and see with your own eyes?”

Oh.

That sounded pretty appealing.

It caught his interest, but Manager Park Han Mo continued,

“However, I still don’t know if giving this student another chance will make a difference.”

“Well, want to bet—”

“I’ll pass.”