The next day, Jeong Seongbin actually showed up with a giant trash bag stuffed full of white and beige dress shirts.
Looking at the blue bag about to burst, I suspected he’d raided every family member’s closet.
“Is Mr. Jeong Seongjun’s dream job wholesaler by any chance?”
“We don’t have to wait for his future. He could open a shop right now.”
Jeong Seongbin shrugged.
Normally, he spoke more gently than other kids his age.
But when it came to his own brother, he had no mercy. He even sighed, “How are there this many clothes with the tags still on...”
Still, he had some conscience left: he made it clear this wasn’t plunder but a loan—he’d asked his brother’s permission before bringing them.
Thanks to that, I could prep all the outfits and props without any extra spending.
▶ Wow, Deputy Kim is so capable. No one else will have anything to do. How would the company even run without our Deputy Kim?
I couldn’t care less about the system’s sniping. If you’re not going to help, then get lost.
Royal Secretariat’s extra shoot didn’t end with the meeting scene.
“A surprise mission?”
“Yeah. They’re deciding the second-competition stage order with a random play dance.”
I was stunned by the news our manager suddenly brought in.
I knew Royal Secretariat had suddenly risen because the other audition programs imploded, but I didn’t expect them to ram in more footage this recklessly.
If it’s a mid-mission, give us enough time that it won’t interfere with stage prep.
If it’s going to decide stage order, then schedule it to film right before the second competition.
My stomach burned at the thought of being dragged out in the middle of peak prep to show off some ridiculous dancing.
If there’s a season 2 of Royal Secretariat, I’m posting on the viewer board: please draft your plan in advance.
From the start, I don’t think “random play dance” is something just anyone can do. There’s so much K-pop—who’s memorizing all those choreographies to dance them.
But this is Korea, a place where the incompetent don’t survive.
I clenched my fists, thinking of the dance proficiency I’d ground up during OJT.
In a leveled-up industry, it was time to harden my resolve. I’d even taken special training from Kang Giyeon over vacation to prepare for this.
And making a mockery of that firm resolve, I waved the white flag after just two songs. Guess I used a cheat key to raise proficiency and turned into a water build.
Worried my fatigue would spike again, I flopped onto the floor.
“My head feels like it’s going to explode.”
“Aren’t you trying to dance too much with your head?”
Kang Giyeon looked down at me with his arms crossed.
“If I don’t understand, my body won’t move. When your body’s bad, your head has to work, right?”
“Your body isn’t bad. Your sense is bad.”
“You’re the worst.”
For all that talk, Kang Giyeon helped me in every way to prep for the random play dance shoot.
But the format was inefficient.
If you’re going to gather the whole cast to do a random play dance to decide the order, the usual thing is to let the last person standing pick their desired slot first.
Spark had me—who could quickly shortlist the variety shows Royal Secretariat would reference—Jeong Seongbin—who could compile the songs I called out in real time—and practice maniac Kang Giyeon—who had probably danced every one of those choreos at least once.
With that combo, we could produce the last person standing. With very high probability.
But that alone wouldn’t be enough. A music-show win isn’t easy.
I stayed lying down and looked up at Kang Giyeon.
“Giyeon.”
“Yeah?”
“I just received an incredible revelation.”
“If you’re going to say something weird, get up.”
He’s not taking the bait. Seongbin would take it at a line like that.
Anyway, he told me to get up, so I did. The weird line is still coming.
I set my hands on both his shoulders and said:
“If we snag the very last slot this time, we can take first again.”
“What are you talking about all of a sudden?”
“I’m saying we must, no matter what, take first in the random play dance and grab the sixth slot.”
“...?”
“And I believe you’re going to pull it off.”
Because our Mr. Kang Giyeon dances spectacularly, doesn’t he?
Let’s shoulder the heavy responsibility and go sweep it clean.
Right after debut, the recognition within Spark was largely split between Choi Jeho and Lee Cheonghyeon.
Choi Jeho, who debuted first via Jang Junhu’s music video and had overwhelming center presence; and Lee Cheonghyeon, who caused an upset on our first music show with his face alone.
Most statements about Spark started with those two.
Next up was Park Juu.
Park Juu’s vocal drew attention anywhere.
Tone, technique, high notes, stability. It was only natural that the highlight part went to a kid who debuted with a finished vocal, and footage of him pulling it off live circulated under titles like “Typical rookie boy group skill.”
As for Jeong Seongbin, he had plenty of chances to speak at official events because he was the leader.
I showed up on the radio with a shocking fashion sense or did the Drinking Hippo Show.
Then what about Kang Giyeon?
He’s the team’s main dancer, but his impact didn’t match Choi Jeho’s dance break, and his rap only came in when doubling Lee Cheonghyeon.
His vocal was solid, but unfortunately, when a middling-all-arounder named Kim Iwol came in, his share shrank a bit.
In short, right now Kang Giyeon’s position in Spark was the fuzziest.
Those with an eye for potential grabbed him fast, but otherwise new fans trickled in slowly. Even in the past, Kang Giyeon wasn’t someone who found the spotlight quickly.
On top of that, he still had a bit of camera fright.
He pretended otherwise, but after a pitch slip during a music-show rehearsal, he’d gotten a bit more sensitive.
Given all that, with a survival show on top, you didn’t need to see it to know how shredded his nerves were.
In this situation, force-feeding him screen time to open the “fall for Giyeon” door would be poison.
But with dance, it might be different.
“If Seongbin is a music vending machine, Giyeon is a dance vending machine.”
“Right. Doesn’t Giyeon know pretty much every title-track choreo?”
“He learns new choreos almost every day. If it’s a stage that aired on a music show, he can dance it. Probably.”
“You could wake him up at night with music and he’d dance.”
“Exactly.”
If the joke he made back then was true—
“Things you’ve put in your body don’t really get forgotten.”
Even if nerves blank your mind, the practice hours would help on reflex.
Hoping the owner would be repaid for his effort, I teamed up with Jeong Seongbin to build a crash course—“Know just this and you too can be the random-play king!”—and hounded Kang Giyeon.
It ended up meaningless because Giyeon already knew all the choreos, but he said he got that his older members were serious and promised to do his best.
For the extra shoot day, we matched thin crewnecks and pants as sets.
It was a brand whose outfit appeared exactly once in a Spark practice video and drew an explosive fan response.
“Why does it have to be this brand?”
“These clothes make your lines pop when you dance.”
They’d never worn them again.
But Sparklers, rejoice. I’ve granted your wish.
“You look better in formal than casual... won’t that be a bit of a shame?”
Before payment, Park Juu raised an objection. I didn’t incorporate it.
“Mr. Iwol, you’re out!”
I figured I’d drop on the first song. It was a choreo I’d watched while prepping “Know just this and you too can be the random-play king!” but I danced it exactly backward and was the only one out.
If I’m going to get knocked out right away, what’s the point of wearing something that suits me. Only the ones who’ll dance well need to look pretty.
On the day Mr. Yur interviewed the first person eliminated, I told him I’d trust my members and shouted fighting to them.
The rest of the cast showed skill that made my light-speed elimination feel small.
Thanks to the challenge boom, everyone knew most songs. Groups specialized in performance even lined up their formations for certain tracks.
Aside from a few who, like me, had unusually short trainee periods, eliminations didn’t come easily.
Spark, admirably, kept all five alive. You five shine best when you’re five.
I was praying fervently for the revival of five-member Spark and for a little social distance, when Mr. Yur stepped in.
Because eliminations were slow to come, they decided to crank the difficulty way up.
From there, contestants started falling like leaves in autumn.
When they broadened the release window by a lot, the younger idols dropped one by one. Among them, only Kang Giyeon—fresh off a master class from veteran Jeong Seongbin—survived.
As numbers thinned, Giyeon’s true value started to show.
He’d been dancing in the back row with a crowd’s loneliness, but as people in front peeled away, he began to edge forward.
No need to wait for him to reach the front. For Giyeon, one or two steps were enough.
“Giyeon dances really well, doesn’t he?”
Whether someone was in front of him or he was at the end of a line—
Once Giyeon caught your eye, he kept it. That’s his level.
If Choi Jeho wins by line quality, Giyeon’s strength is in dynamics.
That superb strength never showed well on music shows. The camera won’t stay glued to Giyeon long enough to capture emphasis changing with each move.
Instead, his true value shows in fancams.
Follow him with your eyes and you see how precisely he hits the moves, where he places his power, how knife-sharp his timing is.
In a situation like this—everyone watching for exact execution to catch mistakes—no one is going to top Giyeon.
Even as the people around him dwindled, even as more eyes fixed on him...
All he had to do was dance what his body knew, to what his ears heard—like those nights alone in an empty practice room.
“Giyeon’s doing great.”
I murmured it, watching him face off with Verion for last one standing.
Freshly eliminated, seated beside me, Choi Jeho answered.
“That’s just him.”
Yeah. What’s there to say—your youngest is good.
With Choi Jeho’s trust at his back, Kang Giyeon really did take first.
Standing in front of the order board, he called out with a calm face and slightly flushed ears, “Hyung! We’re picking sixth, right?”
I nodded with a smile.
