Jeong Seongbin, who stepped out first, had waved his light brown hair for a softer look than usual.
I don’t know where he found such an adorable scarf, but the short, deep-burgundy scarf tied at his neck made him look like a boy out of an old animated film.
More importantly, soft pink glitter pieces sat on his cheeks like tiny jewels.
Kim Iwol was Spark’s top aesthete, certified by the Sparklers themselves.
That very Kim Iwol—the one who swore the best tuning is the factory default—had just pulled a destructive stunt: putting glitter on an eight-hundred-fifty-thousand-won-per-square-centimeter face. Right now!
“Is there seriously anyone who still doesn’t sheet-mask before bed? Do I need to come stick one on you every night?”
“You’re going to choose from only three photos? Giyeon, don’t make me disappointed in you.”
“Juu, not a mock neck—wear a crew neck. We need that vein in your neck to pop on the high notes.”
How tirelessly had Kim Iwol fussed over the members’ faces till now.
They say joy comes after hardship—today Spark were paradise itself.
Park Juu came out in a gothic monocle with a chain. Baek Haewon, lover of classical aesthetics, nearly fainted.
Billowy-sleeved shirt with shorts, a casual fabric belt—the unusual combination created delightful surprise. With his hair ironed down smooth, he gave off the air of an innocent country boy.
Compared to the others, Choi Jeho’s skin tone ran a shade darker, so he wore black glitter unlike the rest.
And that, paired with his black hair, was killer. You could tell me the thing on his face wasn’t plastic but obsidian and I might believe you.
Lee Cheonghyeon and Kang Giyeon, cheeky as ever, wore similar looks. Using a cheap trick like that to flutter a fan’s heart is deception—no, a felony.
How dare they swap colors on sailor shirts and call it a day? And then balance it out with one in long pants and the other in shorts? And then—brazenly—knee socks with the shorts? Fine. All is forgiven because it was all too lovable.
And then there was Kim Iwol—her brother’s schoolmate, Spark’s eldest, and Baek Haewon’s brand-new favorite.
“Shit, Kim Iwol!”
As if that weren’t enough, he revealed a clean forehead with the comma bang every idol tries at least once, and he came out in sleeves trimmed with frills—the very picture of a languid young master.
Isn’t a high-waist trouser with that kind of shirt a foul? Baek Haewon could barely contain the surge in her chest.
And Iwol, who told you to bare your chest in this cruel world? Seeing a man older than herself leave a five-centimeter V where the laces should cinch tight, Baek Haewon howled like a beast.
Her fingers leapt over the keys like they were dancing.
≫ Seongbin, the world is a dangerous place—how can you come out in that cute newsboy cap? What if someone snatches you
└ Sorry, but it sounds like you’re the one who’ll snatch him
≫ Who put star glitter on both of Park Juu’s cheeks? Come receive my bow
≫ Suspender shorts on Choi Jeho? Royal Secretariat people, I salute your taste
≫ Is Lee Cheonghyeon’s face level real? I refuse to feel bad. Even without baiting for attention, any human has a duty to witness this face. How can a palm-sized face contain the entire cosmos??
≫ Everyone please look at our Giyeon’s thighs. Our kid’s face might read “sharp little rascal,” but the muscles are pure man
└ His face isn’t really “little rascal” either, though
└ Shut it, resident numbers don’t lie
└ And they shouldn’t lie
≫ Ah Kim Iwol #@%^%&^*@#@ I swore to live clean—don’t make me swear!!
└ Congrats to Mister M on winning Miheon’s bias lottery
└ Congratulations on the end of Miheon’s bias-denial period~~
Up to now, Spark had won with superior base stats and killer physiques. That freshness stirred a youthful nostalgia.
But the Spark of this moment evoked something farther away...
Namely, a nostalgia that conjured late-modern Britain. Even if Baek Haewon had never ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) lived there a day in her life.
≫ First place... first place, I’m telling you.
For the first time, Baek Haewon felt glad viewers like her didn’t have voting rights.
If she had a vote, she might have cast it for Spark before the stage even began without realizing. But if the in-person audience tried any funny business, she would not forgive them.
The stage lights went down. With a music-site logo, the song title appeared and vanished, and a piano began to play.
“Wind over the field,
a tender sky.”
A gentle voice floated from the speakers.
It wasn’t the firm tone Lee Cheonghyeon usually showed; it felt different.
“Is Cheonghyeon singing this time? He’s out of his mind.”
“I’m standing there,
waiting for the stars to rise.”
“He sings well too... I’m proud of him...”
Like a parent at a first kindergarten recital, Baek Haewon pounded the cushion in her lap.
Brushing backs as they passed, Park Juu stepped to center. The part flowed naturally from Cheonghyeon to Park Juu.
“You don’t know
how much time
rides the Milky Way and flows.”
A face that usually held a frosty cool thawed at one smile.
Park Juu’s signature air—secular cares cast off—melded with the melody and turned the mood otherworldly.
From behind him, Kim Iwol approached.
He hooked an arm over Park Juu’s shoulder and, with his free hand, mimed peering at the sky through a telescope.
“Why is it
that the night sky
dazzles so bright?”
“Because it’s reflecting the light from your face.”
Kim Iwol was shameless. What are we supposed to do if a man who could be a young noir boss or a division head in an office drama also carries off fantasy-sparkle star glitter? How are other idols supposed to live?
Baek Haewon fumed. But Kim Iwol didn’t stop there.
“Darkness
shines this beautifully.”
His radiant smile filled the screen.
“Smiling here is a foul!”
Once again, Kim Iwol was absolutely shameless. He looks colder than anyone—and then smiles like that? Where is the justice?
Baek Haewon wanted to file charges immediately. But if she did, she couldn’t watch the rest of the stage, so she magnanimously stayed her hand.
If the original were a plain love song, Spark felt like they were looking at something else entirely.
Instead of reaching toward someone, they kept linking arms, lacing fingers, leaning head-to-head and back-to-back among themselves.
“Our beautiful time together? Something like that?”
The longer she watched, the more it felt like a single painting.
Not only because the faces were beautiful.
The coordinated tones—outfits textured and colored so none of them popped too loudly—paired with a subtle backdrop and choreography that flowed like a brushstroke made it feel like peering through a frame. The focus was less on explosive punch and more on elegance and beautiful lines.
And underpinning all of it was well-made music.
Baek Haewon didn’t know music well, but she could at least feel there was nothing jarring or awkward.
And yet it wasn’t just easy listening—it was simply...
“The song is good.”
...a good song. The kind a curator at a gorgeous gallery selects to match a painting after long thought—lyrics and all.
Put simply, on a music competition program it was the kind of song that makes you go, “Yes—this is what a music show should be.”
At that moment, the musical palette shifted from classic idol ballad to classical.
In the center stood Lee Cheonghyeon, a small bulb in his hand.
At the click of a switch, his fingertip tapped the top of the sphere.
The sphere slowly opened, and finely cut golden confetti rained over Cheonghyeon’s face.
The camera closed in as he smiled with pure joy. Star-shaped paper twinkled over his cheeks and hair.
≫ Cheonghyeon...
└ Are you going to be found tomorrow in your room, out of breath?
At the same time, constellations flooded the stage.
In that instant, it became clear—the thing the six of them wanted to see was the night sky itself.
An orchestral arrangement swelled across a stage like the universe. Matching the melody, Spark launched into a group dance with a modern-dance feel—different in grain from anything they’d shown before.
≫ (crying)
└ The stage photo looks exactly like that—Van Gogh’s Starry Night?
Only then did the changed backdrop and the pale yellow stars catch Baek Haewon’s eye.
As the instruments layered one by one, the voices of Jeong Seongbin and Park Juu lay warmly over the top.
“We will, for a long time,
shine here—
yes, like a dream...”
With Seongbin’s lullaby-soft whisper, the music faded.
The light above six members leaning on one another clicked off, and starlight washed over the dark stage and their silhouettes.
Baek Haewon smacked her forehead with her palm.
She wanted to scream right then, but one mustn’t be uncivilized in a multiplex house.
Instead she sprinted to her spiritual home: SNS.
There, she poured out her swelling heart.
≫ Cheonghyeon is a songwriting genius.
The dance line are dance geniuses.
The vocal line are singing geniuses.
And Iwol... you’re just a genius. Go back to college, but don’t you dare take a hiatus.
As was only natural, Baek Haewon’s proud children took first place.
Having savored every beautiful moment, she quietly turned off the TV. Then she went to her room, powered up her computer, searched for Spark’s Round 2 Stage Full.ver, and set it to loop.
Somehow, it felt like it would be a very long night.
A stage stitched with coins of starlight ended as beautifully as expected. See? Prettiness is king.
Thanks to Royal Secretariat throwing big money at audio gear, the song Lee Cheonghyeon had poured his soul into mixing came out flawless.
I was tidying the floor cushions in the practice room, feeling satisfied, when I noticed Jeong Seongbin leaving with Park Juu.
“Where are you two going?”
“Manager said to pick up the camcorder before he clocks out. We figured we’d go grab it now!”
Ah, that...
The production team at Royal Secretariat wanted behind-the-scenes footage, but they didn’t have the people or the time to send another crew—so they told each team to film their own “Packing for group dorms” video and send it in, right?
