Hellas Yur, before moving the program along, offered personal words of encouragement to each member of the cast who had worked hard. Because it didn’t sound like a stock line but felt sincere, you could see the size of the man.
The results announcement that followed was clean. There was no flowery padding and no stalling.
Maybe because it wasn’t a live broadcast they took it easy, or maybe the producers wanted to flex their editing skills and kept the hosting lines plain—hard to say.
Ah—there was one surprise in the middle.
Parte came in fifth. For a stage that grand, the low rank shocked a lot of people.
Still, a stage has this thing called on-site presence.
There’s a reason people pay good money for concerts or go out of their way to attend tapings. Focusing on visual effects just for how it plays on TV, without considering the live feel, was a lazy choice. In a way, the result was obvious.
A few kids couldn’t manage their expressions—whether from being young or simply not expecting it.
Unless you braced yourself to get beaten down like we did, you should at least force a smile. A shame.
The ranks kept rolling out after that.
“Log sixth, Parte fifth, Verion fourth, Allover third...”
Which meant, with first place left, the two remaining were Spark and Sticky.
The result would be exactly what I’d predicted.
Because no team had shown a stage that surpassed what I could imagine.
But these guys probably hadn’t even considered that possibility.
Put nicely, humility; put bluntly, they don’t really grasp their own ability.
“First place goes to... congratulations, Spark!”
“Waaah!”
Which is why they’re this happy.
With a shriek from who-knows-where, Lee Cheonghyeon launched himself into the members.
Choi Jeho and I caught them as they tumbled in a heap, and only then did their faces really register.
Beside a dazed Kang Giyeon, Jeong Seongbin and Park Juu were grinning ear to ear.
Hellas Yur pinned an Eosa-flower badge onto each of our volleyball jerseys as the champion’s prize. It made for a weird overall look, but they even loved that.
I toyed with the crudely colored badge and thought:
“This is still a first place. Will it not count toward KPI achievement?”
I soothed the members and snuck a glance at the air, but the system didn’t answer. Man. Picky, picky.
A good result in the first competition was something to celebrate.
It was our first number one carrying the name Spark. From the kids’ perspective, what’s not to be happy about?
But the good mood didn’t last.
Because in episode 2 of Royal Secretariat, which aired the very next day, Spark received the blessing of the edit.
While the cast were enthusiastically responding to each other’s stages, we, who’d watched the stages seriously, were handed a “rather serious expressions...” caption—and got assigned the “cocky” role.
On top of that, they ladled in a “Everyone’s a mess except Verion!” stance over what had been a warm vibe, and the community boards exploded.
≫ (Data warning) Guys, try to judge this objectively
A. No stage décor
Kept their existing concept exactly
All six wore the same outfit
B. Built an extra mini-set for the stage
Rewrote all the camera work in advance
Gave each member distinct outfit accents to match their vibe
Which stage looks like it did better?
└ Obviously B, no?
└ B
└ Who judges a stage by photos only... And if you write it like this, of course ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) the stage that spent more money sounds best
└ The point is Spark stuck to what they always do while saying teams like B were worse than their stage
└ Spark changed lyrics, choreo, and AR—what are you talking about (laughs). And the funny thing is Parte also did the same concept as always—just swapped uniforms for romance-fantasy outfits
└ For real, the only team that drastically changed concept was Verion, yep. I get why Spark gave them an upvote
≫ Idols aren’t just about singing well
Some teams are vocal-led, some are performance-led
It bugs me that performance ability keeps getting undervalued
└ Your fandom is showing, crystal clear (laughs). Did Spark dance badly? Did they rap badly? (laughs)
└ Team that danced while doing full live vs team that laid down AR and only danced
└ Spark wasn’t fully MR either
└ You can’t tell backing vocals from AR???
└ What I’m saying is a group doesn’t need to be great live to do a great stage
└ ???? Am I the only one who doesn’t get this take???
└ Some groups specialize in dance—cutting them down just because they don’t sing live is what’s wrong
└ Whatever; if you’re not going to sing, you should’ve gone on Dancing Stars, not Royal Secretariat. Wrong show
We had agreed within the team, beforehand, to keep our stage reactions honest, so I don’t really care.
In practice...
≫ Didn’t “Kim Pep” say nothing but the truth?
They kept patting each other on the back, but honestly I was bored
At least Spark did live well enough to be memorable
I don’t remember a single thing from the other groups’ stages
└ Credit where due: even the groups that brought backup dancers left zero impression... Partly the Royal Secretariat set is mid, but the impact was weaker than a music show and there was no differentiation
└ We’re not debating whether he’s right; the controversy is about the attitude
└ Can’t believe there are still kids who think broadcast edits are the raw truth (laughs). Who acts like a jerk on TV these days—use your head, please
≫ I thought Spark would obviously take first
Why is the reaction like this??
Watched with my whole family and the consensus was they were overwhelmingly best
└ People keep saying “again with the youth concept,” but considering it was a self-PR stage in the first place, doing what they do makes sense (laughs). I don’t even get why this became a thing
└ Agreed, and it wasn’t identical either... Looked like they wanted to promote “new idol with a youth concept,” and I’m surprised there’s so much negative reaction
...There were lots of takes like that too. Thanks to a growing stance of “let a broadcast be a broadcast.”
But after episode 1, when only Parte’s fans were cussing out Spark, now we were getting flak from every direction—especially centered on me.
People who set their gear to neutral after episode 1 flipped straight into drive in episode 2. Then they ran me over with full throttle.
The soft-hearted Spark kids worried about me, but they didn’t need to. If I think of it as getting in advance the scolding I’ll hear from Deputy Manager Nam in the future, this much is nothing.
If anything, I worry about the fans. I feel bad that I probably made them fret for no reason because of me. So every day I’ve been bowing on the fan café, saying you don’t have to care too much about online reactions.
And right now...
“Hyung, should we open the snacks?”
“Yeah. Otherwise people won’t touch them in case the mics pick up the noise.”
We’re laying out refreshments in the conference room—me and Kang Giyeon—getting ready for filming.
Royal Secretariat said starting this episode they want to shoot the prep process.
I’d been wondering why they didn’t shoot stage prep anyway. Would’ve been great if they’d done this from the first competition.
It’s still a relief they’re shooting it now, but the regret is what it is. Our team should at least do a separate live later to drop some behind-the-scenes.
Before that, let’s get today’s meeting wrapped up well.
“Seongbin’s running today’s meeting, right? Official MC debut.”
“He was checking the script over and over last night.”
“He’d do fine winging it, but he’s meticulous too.”
I say that, but he’s genuinely admirable. Once again I’m grateful for Jeong Seongbin’s presence.
“Where’s Cheonghyeon? He said he’d bring a seat cushion.”
“He went up to the roof with Jeho to dust it off.”
“Are they wearing masks while dusting? Dust on a cushion can be shaken out, but dust on vocal cords can’t. Just because you don’t take the high notes doesn’t mean discipline goes slack, right?”
“I saw Juu taking care of it for them on the way back.”
“Good.”
Sitting guests on the floor is unprecedented as a businessman. But if that’s what’s comfortable for them, then all we can do is try to make the environment as pleasant as possible.
Indoor temperature: comfortable. Device connections: good. Conference room cleanliness: passes.
And with that, for the first time in UA history, we’re ready to receive a large group of guests in a conference room.
Team 2’s final filming location was UA.
Because of the suddenly added shoot on the schedule, everyone was out of their minds.
Notifying each agency, then drafting extra duty rosters—everyone was soaked in fatigue.
Sometimes you think there’s nothing more conservative than the broadcast industry, and then things like this make you wonder how this even makes it to air.
Probably every member of the Royal Secretariat production team is thinking the same thing. And they’re planning to flee to a better-structured program next time.
At least the plush seat cushions were a comfort. After two slots in a row sitting on cold office floors, every writer’s bones were aching.
Spark’s member Kim Iwol, who was carrying the remaining chairs and cushions out of the conference room, glanced toward the writers and asked:
“Do you have enough to drink? Or is there anything else we should clear out?”
Drinks and snacks were already neatly arranged in order at the back of the room, with hot beverages too.
The outlets were tidy. Which made connecting lights so much easier.
When we firmly declined that we needed anything else, Kim Iwol smiled and said, “Then please just tell us if you need anything later.”
Contrary to how they look, the members are genuinely down-to-earth, the writers thought.
Just a while ago, during another team’s meeting-scene shoot, someone suddenly blurted profanity, and we had to ask the manager present to mark the edit point and get back to us.
And the team before that?
All through the meeting time, no one dared to lead the conversation, and the writers were silently beating their chests.
Of course rookie groups will mind their company, but it was also clear they were a group that only did what the company told them to do.
In that sense, Spark had a self-driven side.
On hearing the crew were coming, some members came all the way down to the building entrance, and others, like Iwol, looked after people attentively.
They had even cleaned the conference room we’d be filming in.
I don’t just mean cleanliness. There was nothing that would count as brand exposure, nothing that would block camera angles.
On the table were only two laptops, six assorted planners, and a few pens. There was nothing the crew had to step in to clear.
When you’re already exhausted, anything that shortens prep time for the last shoot is a blessing. Team 2 rubbed our tired eyelids and found a second wind.
And the moment filming began, we were rubbing our eyes again—looking up at the brightly glowing screen.
