Idol Hides His Military Service

It was certain the broadcast bastards had forgotten that struggle and revolution are the history of humankind.

“Looks like the practice spaces are split by grade... See you after practice later, unni!”

We might not see each other, Suyeon.

Because I might literally freeze to death soon.

The schedule after breakfast was self-practice for Idol Ground 100’s theme song “Spotlight,” which we had to present one week from now.

Of course, it wasn’t completely self-directed; the judges who were our trainers would be walking around giving guidance.

“It’s... too cold.”

The problem was the vicious scheme of the broadcast bastards who split us up by grades.

“I snuck a look at the A-grade class, and it’s warm over there...”

“From the start, only the F-class practice room is stuck off in some remote corner...”

It was still winter, so the weather was fairly cold, and the practice room where the contestants who, like me, had received F grade were gathered was an absolute icebox.

To the point it slightly brought to mind winter field training in the army.

“Still, we have to practice. If we practice we’ll get hot, we’ll sweat, maybe it’ll be fine?”

As everyone was expressing disappointment at the harsh conditions, someone tossed out a line, and the contestants nodded as if in agreement.

“I think we should start by watching the choreo video and getting the moves down first.”

“I’ll play it right away.”

Even so, maybe the broadcast bastards had some last shreds of conscience; they’d prepared the minimum tools so we could practice the stage.

Starting with a wall-filling mirror along one side so each person could check themselves while dancing, they’d also installed a TV with the stage video so we could practice the song.

I’ve been waiting for this moment (Oh yeah)

The light I’ve been hiding

Now it’s my turn to show it

You can’t avoid my eyes

Since the first priority was to get familiar with the song, all members of F class huddled in front of the TV and began watching the stage video.

‘Seeing it again, this choreography wasn’t easy.’

When I watched it in the auditorium yesterday, I was out of it and didn’t grasp things properly, but now, I could feel parts I’d missed starting to show themselves.

First, sure enough, because of the nature of a song that has to be performed as a group, unlike other idol stages there weren’t moves that went here and there; what stood out was dancing in place.

‘The feet don’t get a rest, huh?’

Moves that, if you only looked at the upper body, felt like simple rhythmic motions, when seen together with the lower body radiated the feeling they’d be brutally tough.

Especially from the highlight on, you’re stamping without letting your feet rest for even a moment, and when you even jump, your breath catches to the point of choking.

Is it even possible to follow that choreography while not just dancing but also singing?

“Then should we try it once, all together?”

At last, after watching the stage on repeat several times, someone said we should actually practice.

The first thing we did was form up in a triangle formation like the dancers in the video.

“Should we make our forms of address a bit more casual? We’ve got to practice together for the next week, so it’d be a bit much if we stay awkward, right?”

At the remark from one contestant who had been proactively leading the mood from the moment we gathered, the F-grade contestants paused forming up and exchanged awkward greetings.

‘Dion Music Lee Gahyeon? Hm... the face reads as A-grade.’

Volunteering to be the representative is a seriously annoying task everyone avoids.

But the trainee named “Lee Gahyeon” stepped up, started introducing, and led the mood.

“I’m the oldest here, so going forward, can you talk to me comfortably?”

“Yes.”

When Lee Gahyeon introduced being twenty-two, all the other contestants agreed readily.

An age that would still be treated like a kid in the real world was being treated as the most senior here at Idol Ground 100.

‘Only three people out of twenty are older than me?’

Amazingly, even though I turned nineteen this year, there were so many contestants still young enough that I counted as on the older side.

Especially—

“Hello, I kept watching your unni interview video.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re really pretty... heh.”

The contestant named “Yunkyung,” who had now come to my side and was trailing me, was all of fifteen.

I couldn’t believe a middle schooler had come on a survival program like this to become an idol.

‘Blinded by ratings, are we? Kim Miyoung... in the end, even your last human conscience...’

Thinking this was a bit much, I was considering lowering Aunt’s character score from C to D-.

“I’m on the younger side too, but there are tons of trainees younger than me.”

“What?”

“Most idols debut in their late teens these days. There are people who train like seven years!”

Hearing Yunkyung’s explanation, chills ran over my whole body for a second.

The army is twenty-one months now but will be reduced to eighteen months in the future, yet trainees, with no fixed term, have to wait as short as one year to as long as seven or eight years.

‘So Suyeon wasn’t whining for nothing?’

When we first met, Suyeon said being anxious after being cut from the debut lineup, and now I finally understood a bit.

“For practice formation, how about we go with this?”

After chatting with Yunkyung a bit about trainee life, it was time to start practicing in earnest.

“Since I’m tall, I think it’d be good if I stand in the very front. Is everyone okay with that?”

At Gahyeon’s words, taking the lead right at the front, the other contestants looked a bit reluctant, but soon nodded.

However—

“Um... Gahyeon unni is tall too, but Sion unni here looks a bit taller.”

Yunkyung, next to me, raised a hand and randomly brought me up, and everyone’s eyes turned to me.

‘Hey! Why are you like this?!’

To be honest, my height was on the tall side for a woman.

The last time I measured, I was 169 cm or so, and looking lately, I might be even taller than then.

Anyway, when I heard Yunkyung’s words, I saw Gahyeon’s expression stiffen slightly, and for no good reason I felt uneasy.

“Ah... right. Sion does look a little taller than me, but I’m worried it might be burdensome for Sion.”

“Huh?”

“You all heard what Sion said at the Entrance Ceremony last time, right? Wouldn’t it be too much to give that position to someone who’s only trained three weeks?”

“That’s...”

Before Yunkyung could even answer, she cut in and kept going with her point.

“Above all, the goal of us F-class people is for everyone to get good grades at the evaluation in a week. I think it’s better for someone with the longer trainee life to take it.”

At Gahyeon’s words, F-class contestants began to murmur.

‘I think what Gahyeon unni’s saying makes sense?’

‘Sure, if we want to look better, the person in front should have skill...’

‘Didn’t that person already rank second in pre-interview video views or whatever? We need to stand out somehow...’

As voices drifted in from all sides, the expression of Yunkyung, who had spoken up, started to darken.

Tak.

“Unni...”

“Thanks for bringing it up. But it’s really fine.”

I lightly patted Yunkyung’s shoulder and said it was okay, and then Yunkyung made a face like about to cry any second.

‘Interesting.’

At first, I’d wondered a bit why someone who seemed to have leadership and whose looks were quite decent was in F class.

On the surface, the friend looked like A-grade material.

But after watching from the way the friend led the mood to talking with Yunkyung, I got a feel for it right away.

‘That’s dangerous.’

I did close to ten years of military life.

Which is to say, from my platoon leader days through my company commander days, the number of soldiers under me was at least in the hundreds.

From that experience I picked up one skill—namely, the Sharingan.

‘Overflowing with zeal—then the skill had better keep up.’

After interviewing hundreds of people, I’d learned firsthand the iron law that you must not judge a person by appearances.

It was only a short moment I’d seen now, but a subordinate with a similar case to Lee Gahyeon came to mind.

Back when I was a company commander, there was a very zealous platoon leader: the diligent kid who would find work without being told and ask to take over things the company commander—me—was supposed to do.

And then, without even asking me, the kid shredded classified documents and caused a disaster that got me an official warning.

There’s a reason there’s a saying that a soldier who is incompetent and diligent is more dangerous than a soldier who is incompetent and lazy.

‘I can’t conclude yet.’

It bothered me that I kept seeing that platoon leader’s image in the self-appointed leader Lee Gahyeon, but I decided to watch for now.

First of all, I had no intention of standing center anyway, and whoever stood there, the important thing right now was to start practicing as fast as possible.

We were already lacking in skill compared to other classes and had been grouped as F grade; we couldn’t afford to be lacking in practice too.

***

“You lot are in serious trouble.”

“...We’re sorry.”

Looking at the contestants answering with heads bowed, Hyeryeong felt both pity and frustration.

“Are you holding a protest because you’re F class right now?”

“...”

“Why is there no one who sings out loud properly while doing the choreo? What, because you’re F grade you figured your mics won’t be on and gave up in advance?”

The reason Hyeryeong was angry wasn’t simply because their skills were lacking.

‘I don’t see grit.’

From the start, Hyeryeong hadn’t expected the F-grade contestants to show anything outstanding in skill.

What she wanted to see was gritty effort.

Someone might call her an old fogey for that, but Hyeryeong thought grit was the most necessary talent for an idol.

For one thing, it was also because she herself was the person who survived the idol world with grit.

When she first debuted, aside from dance, she had nothing special among the members of G.G., so to survive she practiced singing like crazy.

And as a result, the one who was first called the vocal hole showed a miracle by taking the main vocal spot on G.G.’s final album.

“Does this class have a leader?”

Facing the contestants still standing in stage formation, Hyeryeong tossed a question,

“...I’m taking the leader role.”

and the contestant named Lee Gahyeon, standing at the very front of the formation, raised a hand and answered.

“Then I’ll ask just a few things. First, the formation—this is right?”

“Huh?”

“I see tall contestants in the front row; then the members in back get completely buried.”

“That’s because most idol groups place the tall members in the center...”

“That’s for stages where the formation changes. ‘Spotlight’ continues in place without formation changes—if tall members are out front, the whole stage feels cramped.”

At Hyeryeong’s words, the one saying they were acting as leader, Lee Gahyeon, hung their head and couldn’t give any answer.

“Above all, is it right that the person who can’t finish the song to the end the whole stage long is standing center?”

“...I’m sorry.”

“If you’re the leader, lead the class with a bit more responsibility.”

After she said it, Hyeryeong wondered if she’d gone too far, and she also thought on broadcast she could come off as the bad guy, but—

‘Sugarcoating with nice words will only hurt the trainees.’

Having taken on the roles of judge and trainer anyway, she firmly decided to go hard to the end.

Of course, it wasn’t all bad points.

“Number 100, Lee Sion?”

“Yes.”

“Sion, you did well. Of course your choreo is still very lacking, but you memorized it to the end, right?”

“I do well once I do it again.”

At contestant number 100 Lee Sion’s brazen reply, Hyeryeong couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“I didn’t say you danced well.”

“Yes.”

“But the only person who properly sang to the end while dancing was Sion. I liked that.”

“Thank you.”

It wasn’t flattery; it was praise from the heart.

In fact, if she had to pick the most worrying contestant among F class, Hyeryeong would unhesitatingly pick Sion.

A trainee period so short it might as well be nonexistent.

It was natural to wonder whether someone practically an ordinary person like Sion could prepare a stage within a week.

But unexpectedly, in the stage F class had just shown, Sion kept up with the dance without sticking out awkwardly.

‘What is this? Did she improve this much in «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» a day?’

There were still many lacking parts to see, but she showed unexpectedly plausible dance lines and startled Hyeryeong.

And that wasn’t all.

Shine me now, light me up

Believe in me to the end

The highlight vocal part of “Spotlight,” which even the A-class contestants she had just watched struggled to sing, in F class only Lee Sion was singing.

‘The singing is definitely clumsy. But the tone is irreplaceable.’

Though she still felt technical immaturity, Hyeryeong felt that Sion’s voice, which rang out alone at the highlight, definitely shone.

A clear voice like a boy’s.

Yet at the same time carrying that uniquely delicate quality only a woman can produce, it was mysterious and dreamy.

‘In a week, can she show a more developed self?’

Hyeryeong herself thought the time was far too short, but for some reason she had a hunch that Sion would show something at the next grade-evaluation stage.