Powerful and rhythmical drums, flashy guitar, cheerful and lively keyboard, and the bass that firmly holds all these elements together. “Speaker” was crafted solely from the things Park Juu loved.

Lee Cheonghyeon added substance to a melody of an original song he used to play in secret back in middle school whenever he got bored of practicing only competition pieces. By adding sound effects to the classical sections, a brand-new style of music was born.

The reason I had encouraged Cheonghyeon to start composing early was that he felt the finiteness of time was a waste. It was something I hadn’t even considered back then, as I was only focused on Spark’s immediate activities...

“Didn’t you start working on this less than two weeks ago? The quality’s high.”

“Maybe it’s because it’s a song I’ve been playing over and over in my head.”

...I had overlooked the fact that some forms of creation could proceed in parallel. Even while writing Spark’s title tracks, Lee Cheonghyeon would casually pull out pieces he’d composed years ago and tinker with them whenever he was bored.

With a primal, easy-to-memorize hook and lyrics that had been mulled over for years—not to mention three years spent on revisions alone—every part of the song was smooth yet intense. The gripping power of the intro went without saying.

Whether a singer or an instrumentalist, meeting a great song inevitably ignited passion. That was exactly the state Spark was in. There had been many great songs suited for idols so far, and there would be many more in the future. But everyone instinctively knew that as a band track, there would never be a song as outstanding as “Speaker.”

『Entangled people

Boiling noise

Piercing through the gaps

A sharp-shooting voice』

Instead of matching Jeong Seongbin’s tone as he had before, Park Juu opened with a cold, steely vocal, like a wall raised in iron. His voice, sounding like a plucking electric guitar, resembled his trainee days yet was even sharper. Like a blade that had been cherished and well-honed for a long time.

『I’ll shout until I’m heard

Pay attention, right now』

The resolve from last season—to win no matter who stood against them—had fortunately carried into this year. Whether or not we’d succeeded, we had tried our best to give fans as much joy as possible, as promised this season.

And more than anything else...

『I’m speaking to you

If you won’t listen

Speak louder

The only way is to play harder』

...We were having fun. We did plenty of things we normally wouldn’t get to do and received a lot of support. We had a duty to return this refreshing exhilaration to them.

“Let’s think of this one day as a rock festival. Got it?”

The image of a band in an amateur’s mind was often simple: comfortable clothes evoking free spirits, total immersion in their instruments. Among the IAD cast, no group could pull off this atmosphere better than Spark, who had obsessively served up the theme of “youth.”

Under the glaring lights, Jeong Seongbin’s hair became damp. Despite being a guy who didn’t sweat much, he always ended up looking like that after concentrating on playing with a heavy guitar strapped to him.

When I told him, “The rhythm guitar needs to support the lead guitar,” in terms of role distribution, he even developed a habit of biting his lip while playing. Now, fans who had Jeong Seongbin as their bias would be able to see that side of him.

Kang Giyeon had to keep his taping on throughout the practice period, but thanks to properly alternating between rest and practice, he was able to play the guitar excitedly today in perfect condition. Who knew his joints would be weak everywhere, not just his ankles? I had already made a reservation for a nutritional supplement consultation as soon as IAD ended.

Lee Cheonghyeon, who used to return to a stiff posture every time he played the keyboard, now moved naturally. Though he still had the build that suited tailored suits, he shone beautifully under blue lighting, too. I could only hope the camera captured his long, straight fingers dancing brilliantly over the keys.

Choi Jeho, for whom this was likely the first time standing at the back for such a long duration since birth, also silently fulfilled his role.

“If the drums miss the beat, the live performance is over. Keep your head on straight.”

“You say that as if I’ve ever missed a beat.”

“You haven’t, which is why I’m letting you do the drums. Stop nitpicking my words.”

Actually, that guy easily stood out even if you put him at the back. He was tall and broad-shouldered. His X and Y axes were endlessly expanding.

Regardless of his physical build, Choi Jeho stood out no matter where he was. Was it thanks to the sleeveless shirt, a drummer’s essential? Despite sticking to the beat with clockwork precision, Jeho had the power to draw eyes even without flashy performances.

『The accumulated feelings

In an agonizing state

Have come to me』

Park Juu was literally flying. Shining in the front under the lights, he looked like a star rising in a dark audience, or the protagonist of a coming-of-age band story.

It might have been a few years of waiting for Park Juu, but Sparklers had been waiting far longer for this version of him. A youthful vocal who crushed the high notes with a voice as sharp as unrefined metal scraping against a concrete wall, with a fierce light returning to his languid eyes. One who sang passionately with blue veins standing out on his neck while clutching the stand microphone with both hands.

『I’ll shout until I’m heard

Pay attention to me』

As the music reached its highlight, I felt everyone becoming one with the song. A smile began to slowly appear on Jeong Seongbin’s face, and Kang Giyeon laughed while making eye contact with Lee Cheonghyeon. Choi Jeho, while playing the drums as he pleased, occasionally cast a glance at the members.

『I’m telling you

If you’re going to look away...』

My fingers felt infinitely light. It was as if the times I pounded them until they were numb never happened.

During practice, Park Juu once asked me if it was okay to be this happy—that every day felt like a dream.

“That’s what unity is. Once you feel it, it’s hard to get out.”

The sweat flowing down Park Juu’s jawline and the bracelet shaking on his wrist clearly revealed his emotions. As we approached the end of the song, I was reminded of what Juu had said in response to me.

That he never, ever forgets a promise.

『I’ll shout until I reach you

Accept it all

Everything I say』

...So, this song was, in a sense, a story that Park Juu was sending to everyone.

When the song ended, cheers like a ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) tidal wave slowly surged in from afar. The sound of crashing applause drenched our feet. I couldn’t move a single step until the water dried.

『You showed a tremendous spirit of challenge in the final stage. Spark, how do you feel?』

Yur asked on the screen. Baek Haewon turned up the TV volume. She hadn’t noticed while listening to the roaring band music, but now that the interview had started, the other people’s voices sounded as small as ants.

“Win... this is Spark’s win...”

No survival stage she had seen over the years had given her this much catharsis. And Band Spark had shown up. If this wasn’t a winning stage, then what was?

She had secured all the family members’ phones, but it wasn’t enough. Baek Haewon requested help from all her friends. Guys, please, just throw one vote for Spark. I’ll give you 100 won tomorrow...

Her mom had scolded her for voting before watching the stage, so Baek Haewon had waited until the song ended out of conscience. By the time her mother said, “They’re good,” Baek Haewon had already finished voting with her own, her mother’s, and her father’s phones.

Even her mom, a total member of the general public, acknowledged them. She said Spark was good!

The dating rumors forced out by another agency to draw aggro, the drug crimes spread by people around them making a fuss, and the sabotage from the senior group couldn’t shake Spark until the very end. Their flawless perfection and the members’ satisfied expressions proved it.

『We’re grateful that at a time when everyone’s intentions aligned, we were given such a good opportunity.』

Kim Iwol answered with a refreshed face. Compared to the younger members who looked visibly nervous, Kim Iwol seemed relatively calm. However, he couldn’t hide his flushed cheeks and the corners of his mouth that were slowly creeping up. It seemed he had thoroughly enjoyed an incredible live performance.

『Mr. Jeho, Mr. Seongbin, and Mr. Giyeon, I heard you only started learning instruments this year?』

『Yes. Juu hyung often mentioned that he really wanted to form a band with the members... and it’s finally becoming a reality.』

Park Juu smiled widely at Choi Jeho’s words. Baek Haewon was reminded of an acquaintance who particularly loved Juu’s “languid-mature-ice-sexy” moments. She checked social media, and sure enough...

≫ Park Juu just now

≫ Juu

≫ Kill me

≫ What is happening with Juu’s beauty? I’m sorry for saying white hair was his personal color all this time. Our Juu’s personal color is Rock & Roll White. Noona is sorry. Juu, be in a band for life.

≫ PLEASE put a band stage in the concert.

└ Are the boys holding a concert????

└ I’m suing if they don’t.

It was chaos. Out of loyalty, Baek Haewon hit “like” on all of her acquaintances’ posts.

『Today is the last day for “IAD,” what is the first thing you want to do when it’s over?』

There were a lot of questions for a segment that wasn’t even the ranking announcement. Behind the MCs and Spark, black silhouettes bustled around.

Ah, it was for stage maintenance. Even better, then. Baek Haewon leaned back on the sofa with a happy heart.

Then, Baek Haewon noticed Baek Haein watching the TV with an unreadable expression.

Just ten minutes ago, Baek Haein had snapped at Haewon when she suggested he cast a precious vote for his friend, saying he’d take care of it himself. Despite not knowing any groups other than Spark, Baek Haein had stubbornly claimed a spot on the edge of the sofa.

Baek Haewon didn’t know if Baek Haein had been staring at Band Spark as intently as she had. At the very least, current Baek Haein did not take his eyes off the screen.

Turning back to the TV, a close-up of Kim Iwol was shown.

『I’m leaving with unforgettable, good memories. I hope the fans also enjoyed watching our stage.』

Watching Kim Iwol state his feelings on participating, Baek Haein got up. Haein’s hand, which had been fiddling with his mouth, soon went to the tip of his nose. The bridge of Baek Haein’s nose was red.

“Are you crying?”

Baek Haewon asked. Instead of answering, Haein unlocked his phone and handed it to Haewon.

From the kitchen, his mother asked Baek Haein if his classmate had already appeared. Baek Haein nodded.

“He looked like he was having fun.”

After leaving that short review for his mother, who remembered his son’s classmate, Baek Haein quietly went into his room.