August, at last.

Maybe it was the heat advisory from the first of the month, but the air outside felt like it stopped in your throat.

Maybe it was because I’d just been in a cool practice room.

“I’ll, I’ll be back.”

“See you~!”

I waved to the kids and headed for the door.

No.

I started out—and then came right back.

“What are you doing.”

Ri Hyuk poked me with a yellow rubber finger.

“You’re letting all the AC out. Go.”

“I’ll just stay a little. Just a little... If I leave now I’ll have to wait about ten minutes for Minsoo.”

“You just don’t want to see us off. Go.”

“So cold. I thought Seori Hyuk stood for ‘I love you.’ Tell me you love your hyung.”

“...I’m saving my breath.”

I whined that I didn’t want to go into the heat, so the brats took measures.

Biju held out his hand.

“Take this, hyung.”

“Thanks. As expected, only you get me, Biju.”

With a freeze-pop and an ice pack in my hands and a happy grin on my face, the brats’ eyes sharpened.

“Hyung.”

The maknae lugged out a giant tub of ice cream.

“Take it and eat in the car.”

“That’s a bit...”

“You said yes to Biju...”

“Th... that’s not it.”

I was going to say “too much is as bad as too little,” but I just smiled warmly.

Junhyun said,

“Tell the noonas we’re cheering for them.”

“I will.”

“And don’t forget you promised to buy us meat.”

I gathered the well-wishes for Scarlet, checked the time.

Time to go.

I waved that I’d see them later and headed for Minsoo’s car waiting in the basement lot.

A booming voice rang out.

“Good day, Wooju! I’ll get you safely to TBC!”

“Please do.”

Today’s destination: the TBC studios in Ilsan.

It was my personal schedule right after the Jakarta and Taiwan tour.

Scarlet’s new single announcement.

Tonight, TBC in Ilsan would air the live final of the girl-group survival The Spirit.

In the final, each act would present an original new song.

They’d been competing with each other’s songs and seniors’ hits all season; the finale concept was “win with your own.”

I’d heard the agencies fought hard to bring in big-name composers—a pride match.

Composer Yoo Ung, who joined not long ago, had said,

“I worked on La Rose’s track.”

“La Rose?”

“Yeah. DNS Media commissioned me even before the song camp. Said it’d be used in the final a few months later.”

Prepping for months.

It made me think the °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° rivals to Scarlet’s “Not Fine” wouldn’t be pushovers.

“Let’s see.”

I checked The Spirit’s lineup online.

Six teams total.

By debut year: Girls on Top from 2011, then La Rose, Scarlet, Autumn Girl, NYX,

and High Color, a third-year group that debuted in 2015 and won Best New Artist.

Different concepts, but all known for strong stages.

The spicy, punchy editing helped, but The Spirit’s ratings weren’t high for nothing.

No matter the edit, a survival only pops if the stages are good.

Minsoo said,

“People say Scarlet, Girls on Top, and NYX are the favorites... I really hope Scarlet takes first.”

“I really hope so too.”

Probably all of Lemon Entertainment felt the same. The CEO said he’d go pray at a temple today.

“I’m dressing up tomorrow. Last time people thought I was a monk...”

“Koff!”

“You okay?”

“Y— yes.”

The CEO floated through my mind and I almost sprayed the water I was drinking.

I wiped my lips with the tissue Minsoo handed over and watched the cars rolling by outside.

Today I was visiting as producer—to cheer.

It was also what TBC wanted.

With the final ahead, each label had submitted tracks; TBC had put two and two together.

— Be honest, Lemon. It’s a Wooju track, isn’t it?

— It’s Kim Deokchun.

TBC kept nudging when we answered vaguely.

— Okay, O/X quiz! Sun Wooju wrote it, yes or no?

— Telling you, it’s Kim Deokchun.

— Is this what that Kim Deokchun kid looks like? You can answer that much, right? Here, look at this photo.

— nod nod

— ...Knew it. Kim Deokchun is Sun Wooju’s new skin.

...And then they suggested we come by and shoot some behind-the-scenes.

Since the live would only air the stages and VCRs, once the truth came out later they could farm views with a MyTube video titled [Composer Kim Deokchun Drops In].

I wasn’t planning to hide it long anyway.

I just wanted to let Scarlet hit with the song first, then shyly say, “I wrote it...”

Given that anything connected to us hits real-time searches, I didn’t want “This is by Sun Wooju?” to boost the ranking.

So today I’d package the visit as “We came to cheer as a junior group to Scarlet.” I’d heard other groups—including Sbo—would also drop by to say “You can do it!”

Of course I still didn’t want to stand out...

“I’ve got a mask and a hood... How do I look?”

“Hmm.”

“No one will recognize me, right?”

“No.”

Minsoo shook his head.

“I can tell from your eyes.”

“What if I put on sunglasses...”

“That draws even more attention.”

A hooded, masked mystery man in a sea of staffers.

Even I had to admit it popped.

In the end I fluffed my bangs to shade my eyes under the hood.

“How about now! Seamless, right?”

“...Hmm.”

“Still not enough?”

“Well, it’s not a quirky outfit, so people might assume you’re not you... but your silhouette...”

“Ah.”

I knew what he meant.

Online, people called us “the silhouette real-name system.” They said they could tell who’s who from the back.

“Hold on.”

I told Minsoo, brimming with confidence,

“I have a new technique for moments like this.”

“...With respect, maybe something normal...”

“Don’t worry.”

I’d prepped one trick for days like this.

Silhouette masking.

I focused on the micro-muscles all over my body. Adjusted back and shoulder muscles that define posture and closed my eyes.

Celebrities stand out most for posture. I slowly altered angles, made my stance a little “bad,” twisted my body slightly to reshape the silhouette.

“How’s my silhouette?”

“...Insane.”

Minsoo couldn’t help blurting it out.

“If you don’t speak, people will second-guess. Unless they stare, they won’t know.”

“Right?”

I chuckled—then went, “Ah.”

“I can change my voice too. One sec—”

“Uh, Wooju.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m starting to get scared. Feels like I’m in the car with someone else...”

I burst out laughing at my manager hunching his shoulders.

We pulled into the TBC Ilsan lot.

Maybe because it was the final, the place was packed; Minsoo trailed off.

“Whoa, parking...”

“I’ll head in first.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Inside a station, it didn’t matter.

Unless I got lost like Biju, I knew roughly how TBC Ilsan was laid out.

“I’ll find Scarlet first. Park slowly.”

“Got it!”

I grinned at my boisterous manager, tugged down my mask and hood, and headed into the corridor linking from the lot.

But there were a lot of cars today.

Because it was the last broadcast? Still, this many “related people”?

“Ahem... hello.”

“Mm...?”

Using Silhouette Correction, I greeted the guard and passed the gate.

It was the entry pass Scarlet’s people used.

He looked at me, unsure—then clocked my outfit and pointed inside.

“You’re here for The Spirit, right? Head toward Studio 6 and hang a left all the way.”

“Thank you~”

“Mm...?”

The silhouette trick worked wonders.

Even inside the station, no one seemed to clock me.

Without those usual staring eyes, I felt... at ease.

I should use this more.

“Let’s see. Six— where do I go— to find— six—”

I found Studio 6 and, just as the guard said, took the left all the way in.

But it wasn’t where I needed to be.

“Hurry up!”

An urgent voice was calling me.

Or... was it really me?

“Hurry, hurry!”

In a space packed with sharply dressed boy-group members, a writer-looking staffer was beckoning me.

They waved me over, and the glares from the other boy groups stung.

“...?”

As I got close, the writer eyed the pass around my neck and tilted their head.

“Lemon? I don’t think Lemon was on my list. Just you?”

“Mm-hmm, two of us.”

“Really? Okay, then relay these notices to the other one.”

“...?” 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

Something about this was off.

I wanted to softly ask the other idols, “Hey, what is this area?” but...

“...”

“...”

The trainees in front of the writer were stiff as boards; this wasn’t a chatty mood.

Come to think of it—

“Hm?”

...These weren’t idols.

They’d come in fairly neat civvies, but I didn’t know most of their faces.

I usually recognize juniors when they debut or drop new songs, but not a single face rang a bell...

And they were young.

At most second- or third-year of high school?

Which meant—

“Okay! Trainees, listen up!”

“...”

They were trainees.

Then it clicked.

These were trainees being seated as audience.

On survival shows, labels often seed their own trainees among the audience; if the camera catches you and people ask “Who’s that handsome kid?”, that’s a win.

Most of the boys here were trainees from DNS Media, TJ Entertainment, SNH Entertainment, and so on.

“...”

So... what now?

I couldn’t just “It’s me, Wooju” and flip my hood back. No smart exit strategy came to mind.

“Since it’s live, pay extra attention to your reactions! If you mess up, you could cause trouble for your seniors.”

“Yes!”

“Do your reactions really well.”

“Yes!”

They answered like recruits on a drill field.

Five minutes of caution notes later, the briefing ended.

“Great work!”

The junior writer sprinted off, and the trainees bowed ninety degrees.

Watching them, I smiled quietly to myself.

It made me think of the past—they all looked adorable. I used to be that cute and dinky too.

— yu used ta be thaaat cute~~

— pfft!

I waved away the brats jeering in my head and was about to slip off to find Scarlet’s room when—

“Wow.”

Trainees looked at me with sparkling eyes as I turned to go.

Not one or two—quite a few.

“Crazy.”

A trainee with notable curls asked, eyes shining,

“Are you from Lemon?”

“...Huh?”

“Lemon, right?”

“Yeah.”

Lemon... is correct.

“Wow. I’ve only heard rumors about Lemon trainees—first time seeing one up close. So they are recruiting.”

I cleared my throat and said,

“They are recruiting.”

“I heard the acceptance rate is insane. I even failed Lemon once! I got a drink from NewBlack sunbaes at the audition venue.”

“Koff—!”

“You okay?”

“Ah, yeah, a bit under the weather...”

I rasped a little; a few backed off, worried about catching a cold.

If only they’d all drift off.

But the ones who’d discovered a legendary Pokémon—“A Lemon trainee!”—still stared with round, bright eyes.

The sociable curly one said,

“Wow, you’re really handsome. Even with a mask, it’s like... wow... so that’s the Wooju-type look you need to get picked.”

“So the rumor was true—they pick Wooju-faced guys.”

“Do you see NewBlack often? Is it true there’s a grill set up at the company and they cook meat for you?”

I had no idea when interest in our company spiked this much.

Awkwardly fielding questions, I felt cold sweat down my back.

Thankfully, five minutes later, calls from their labels pulled them away one by one.

As they waved “See you later,” the curly extrovert said,

“Let’s grab a meal sometime!”

“Sure. Sounds good.”

“My name’s Hongju. Gye Hongju. What’s yours, hyung?”

“Kim...”

I quickly grabbed a name I could sell in a pinch.

Took “Kim” from our two Kims.

Mixed Jiho and Ri Hyuk just right...

“Kim Jihyuk.”

“Oh, Jihyuk-hyung.”

We wrapped it there; as I parted from the trainees and finally exhaled—

“...Ah. Right.”

I stopped. There was someone I meant to meet here.

And that was when something odd started.

“Hm?”

The trainees ahead of me, who’d been walking, suddenly froze like officers saluting a corps commander.

“Good evening!”

“Hello!”

Something monumental was approaching.

If I had a scouter, it’d be going, “Ohh... ten thousand... twenty... no!”—that kind of shock.

Watching trainees bow as if before a giant god, I tensed without meaning to.

Who’s here today?

I pricked up my ears; whispers reached me.

“Holy— it’s Hanjo.”

“No way.”

“Wow... insane.”

“...”

As hands flew to mouths, I felt a little wince of cold.

Step, step.

“Wow...”

Hanjo strode by, pulling exclamations out of everyone.

A white designer-logo tee and jeans—simple, but the fit was killer.

A model build flaunting broad shoulders—first-division idol.

His cap threw a shadow over his face, but that nose bridge stood out.

‘Holy crap, stupid handsome...’

‘Unreal.’

The trainees’ jaws hung.

He radiated swag with his whole being.

Even the rings on his fingers and a single swinging earring looked perfect.

‘A real celebrity...’

Scenting fresh, Hanjo walked the hall, smiling and returning greetings.

“Hello.”

His polite manner made the trainees swoon.

‘That aura.’

This must be what a first-division idol leader looks like.

Leaving NewBlack aside as the heavenly league, Street Boys—hip-hop group—were surging as No. 1 in the idol scene.

With someone everyone here idolized in front of them, you could practically see the aura blazing.

Trainees kept glancing back with “wow”s as they headed for their rooms; DNS Media’s trainees stepped up.

“Hello, sunbaenim!”

“Oh, you guys too? Performing today?”

“Yes! We’re audience today.”

“Already getting on air?”

“We’re at least at the ‘go to the station’ stage now, sunbaenim.”

Gye Hongju, the de facto leader among the DNS trainees, replied stoutly and gave Hanjo a thumbs-up.

“By the way, sunbaenim, you look extra cool today.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. Wow... really insane!”

“I put a bit of effort in.”

Hanjo gave a bashful smile as twin thumbs went up around him.

While the trainees chanted “Our sunbae is so cool, too cool,” Hanjo’s gaze swept the area.

“Hm?”

I felt a strong stare.

A trainee in a schlubby hoodie.

Mask on, hood yanked low, but those eyes were there.

‘What’s that?’

His head tilted just a bit—like he didn’t like what he saw.

He looked like... someone.

Maybe... but the silhouette was completely different, so Hanjo dismissed it.

Still, maybe because he’d noticed that stare, DNS trainees whispered,

“Ah. He’s a Lemon trainee.”

“Lemon?”

“Yeah, even the trainees at Lemon have crazy presence... I get what you meant about NewBlack, sunbaenim...”

“Right?”

Saying Lemon had “something,” Hanjo grinned and patted shoulders.

“See you later. I’ll buy you meat. Meat.”

“Yes, sunbaenim!”

They were already exploding with excitement just being at the station.

At the words “I’ll buy meat,” they ran off in tears of joy.

“Kids...”

Hanjo chuckled and looked around again.

He checked his messages once more.

“It’s definitely here.”

A text had popped up moments ago.

Bestie [Save me]

Bestie [Come save me]

He’d come running at a random plea—only to find no one.

He scratched his cheek and called.

Bzzzz—

The vibration buzzed right in front of him.

The schlubby Lemon trainee was holding his phone.

“...”

“...”

I tapped “accept” and raised my hand.

“Hello.”

“Huh?”

Hanjo’s eyes went round.

The mystery figure began to twist his body.

crack

The slightly forward neck popped back; posture slid into place; a familiar silhouette formed.

“...!”

Hanjo shoved his phone into his pocket and readied to bolt.

But the friend who’d been five meters away was gone.

“Huh?”

Right then,

a soft voice whispered at his back.

“It’s me.”

“Kyaaaaa—!”

“Are you buying me meat too?”

“Aaagh! Aagh! Ack!”

Lee Hyeonjo, 25.

He nearly passed out in the station.