"The day has finally come."
"Ah~ it felt short, but also long."
Once the trainees' video evaluations were finished, the five mentors of Design Your Idol gathered in one place.
The mentors looked relieved now that a major phase had come to an end, but at the same time, since they had been watching the trainees' efforts up close these past days, their faces also carried hints of anticipation and tension.
Among them, Jane looked the most expectant.
"There were some kids who picked things up really fast. I'm looking forward to this."
"I even saw someone with real skill who didn't show it in the level evaluation. I guess you really can't judge people off a single round."
"Oh, I think I know who you mean~."
"Shh! We haven't watched the videos yet! Quiet, everyone!"
After joking and chatting among themselves, the mentors turned their attention to the large screen on the wall. They now had to watch all one hundred videos from the trainees of Design Your Idol.
"This won't be easy. One hundred… Seeing it like this, it feels like even more."
"And only a handful out of these hundred will debut. It's heartbreaking."
As they continued talking—half for the camera, half sincere—about the trainees' effort and desperation over the last five days, the mentors also revealed what criteria they planned to judge by.
"I'm focusing on effort. How they worked these five days and who grew the most in such a short time."
"Learning speed, adaptability. You need those to survive in this fast-changing industry."
"Charm, for me. How they interpret the song and what atmosphere they bring out. That's my standard."
With everyone's criteria mentally set in place, the video playback began. The mentors evaluated the trainees with sharp eyes while adding comments here and there.
"Whoa, that trainee is really good. How did we not notice before?"
"Mmm, that's a shame… They did better during practice. You can see the nerves."
"Everything else is fine… but the singing's a bit worrying. Some bad habits in there, right?"
"They barely practiced the dance, that's obvious. That's just lack of effort."
"As expected, they're not disappointing me. Good, good!"
One by one, the mentors began assigning grades onto the sheets listing each of the hundred trainees. Because they'd watched these trainees change and grow over the five-day camp, they alternated between being impressed and disappointed.
And when D-class's video evaluations began—
"Pfft—haha!"
"Hahaha—what is Zixuan even doing!?"
The mentors burst into laughter at the sight of Zixuan struggling through his evaluation and then falling. The way he scrambled up afterwards—awkward, flustered, almost like he was picking something up—perfectly showed his gentle, absentminded personality, and it broke through the stiffness in the evaluation room.
"Alright, that was a good laugh… but evaluation is evaluation."
"He was doing well at the beginning. If he just hadn't tripped on his pronunciation."
"What a pity. But I really liked that he didn't give up. There are tons of trainees who just quit after one mistake."
Jane also valued that effort, and raised Zixuan's projected grade by one level to a C. If he had used that early momentum well, he might have gotten a B, but his nerves and the fact that he didn't show his true ability had to be considered.
A few more trainees passed by, and then Joo Danwoo's evaluation began.
"Oh, Danwoo! We have to watch him properly."
As Cha Mina, who had high hopes for Danwoo, lit up, rap mentor Bridie tilted her head.
"Joo Danwoo? From Seez Label?"
"Oh, I remember. Didn't he perform with Park Woojae from B-class? I don't think he stood out much."
"Danwoo sings really well. Great sense of rhythm too. He's D-class's vocal leader."
"Vocal leader? Ooh, then I'm excited."
Just as Cha Mina had promised, Danwoo showed a stable performance.
"Wow."
"He's good."
"His dancing's not bad either. A few days ago he couldn't do it like this."
Although he was one of the quickest in D-class to pick up the choreography, Danwoo had always had the air of a beginner—focusing on copying the shape rather than the precision, which made things look somewhat awkward.
But in the evaluation, that awkwardness was mostly gone. You could tell he was trying to match the choreography details properly, and his movements looked cleaner because of it.
But the mentors' optimistic expressions soon shifted to ones of regret.
[Yesterday is now bye, you and my dream is… ah.]
In the video, Danwoo tripped on the beat once and then froze completely.
"Ah..."
"Danwoo, oh no… you can't stop like that."
"He panicked…"
His confusion and distress were written all over his face. Just one mistake, and it was like his mind went completely blank—he seemed to forget both choreography and lyrics.
In the end, he couldn't continue and ended the evaluation there. Jane shook her head at the sight.
'It's sad, but there's no helping it.'
Not getting nervous was also a skill. And no matter how good someone's usual ability was, mistakes weren't tolerated in the professional world.
And regardless of how well Danwoo had performed earlier, he had effectively thrown away half of his evaluation.
'Lack of resilience is a problem.'
All sorts of things happen on stage—from minor technical glitches to major unexpected incidents. But a singer has to push through them and continue performing no matter what.
That's what being a professional means.
'By that standard, Joo Danwoo is disqualified.'
If he froze like this over one mistake, who knew what he might do on a real stage? You can't just stand there blankly while the song finishes without you.
That was why, despite being less skilled and making more mistakes, Zixuan ended up with the better assessment—because he carried the performance through to the end.
After Jane wrote down Danwoo's projected grade and several more trainees passed—
"Oh, KRM Entertainment?"
"It's Yuha. I hope he did well."
The trainee Jane had been waiting to see finally appeared on the screen.
"I think he was… decent at singing? And dance-wise, he was the one who did the basic steps, right?"
"He's D-class's dance leader."
"Oh, dance leader? Was he that good?"
"He lacks stamina and still has rough edges, but… Yuha is smart. He reads choreography well and knows how to catch the key points. He learns fast. Out of D-class, Yuha looked the most promising."
At Jane's words, dance mentor Leo stared at the screen with interest. On the screen, Won Yuha bowed deeply, then immediately took his starting pose.
The intro began, and Yuha slowly began to perform the dance and vocals together.
Finally reached the startlineI Promise, it'll be foreverMy heart that will remain eternal like nowI'll leave it on this stage
And when the clip continued, Jane couldn't help laughing.
"What? Why is he good?"
"Did he sing like that before?"
"His angles are sharp."
"And… why does he look so relaxed?"
Just as Jane had expected, Won Yuha showed very clear signs of skyrocketing.
Yesterday is now bye—
You and I—our dream is in sight.
A newly written Future.
Your ideal unfolding.
'No, but… he's genuinely good?'
He had always seemed like someone who knew how the moves were supposed to look but couldn't make his body follow. Yet now, his angles and lines were noticeably defined.
His speed in connecting each movement was good, and his sense was solid. His power was still lacking, and there was still a slight timidness to some motions, but overall the performance had no unnecessary clutter—it looked clean.
I'll shine for You you youI'll be your Star ar arLook at meLook at the shining meLook at the me that's only yoursLook at the new meLook at the me you'll create
Even his singing seemed to have improved. Jane might not know the deep technicalities of vocals, but even she could tell his voice now held more strength, and the details were alive.
And just like she'd sensed during practice, his pitch didn't waver even during live singing, and that odd sense of calm he had… In vocals alone, he could probably stand toe-to-toe with the A-grade trainees.
Trust meGrab onto meFeel meLookLook straightAt your one and only Idol!
Finishing the final move, breathing rough, Won Yuha bowed. Then he calmly walked over and switched off the camera.
The mentors glanced around at each other, dazed, and then someone spoke in a half-disbelieving, half-amused tone.
"What is with that trainee?"
"When I first saw him, I honestly thought he was way too lacking for someone in his fifth year at KRM… What happened? How is he suddenly this good?"
"Now he does look like a five-year trainee. Well, I guess lasting five years at KRM means you're no pushover."
"Wow, I didn't even notice I was admiring him. His voice is really nice."
"When I first brought him into vocal class, he couldn't express the finer details at all, so I wasn't sure… But he said he practiced repetitively, and I guess he really did."
Jane, unable to hide her growing excitement, added one more line—half for the camera, half to subtly shape Won Yuha's character.
"His dancing too. Did you know he's called a vending machine in D-class?"
"A vending machine?"
"You nudge him and he gives you whatever you need. No other class used their leaders as well as D-class did. And the leaders weren't stingy about teaching either. D-class's decent overall evaluation is partly thanks to them."
"He benefitted from that too. Teaching others is a form of practice in itself, after all."
"Ahh, that feels refreshing. Alright then—shall we grade him?"
Smiling, Jane picked up her pen. She already knew what grade she was going to write on his sheet.
"Good job, Yuha."
…Why does she look so nervous when she smiles like that?
Accepting the evaluation sheet from Jane—whose expression was somehow proud and oddly uneasy—I sat down. With a face like that, I could guess the result even before checking.
Still, after a moment of hesitation, I unfolded the sheet.
「Final Grade: A」
The result was exactly what I expected.
'…I mean, I knew, but still.'
Even so, the brief dizzy spell was unavoidable.
From the moment I finished my camera evaluation, I had already predicted I'd get at least a B unless something catastrophic happened—and possibly even an A if the mentors added some weight to the performance.
It was only natural. To the mentors' eyes, I must have looked like someone who'd achieved explosive growth in just five days.
Survival shows always needed a "rise-from-the-bottom" character—someone who climbs from a low grade to a high one. And once I felt my stats increasing, I'd already suspected that early "overcoming" narrative might fall on me.
'Since both in dance and vocals, I got criticized at first and then received praise as lessons went on.'
Both Cha Mina and Jane had made growth-related comments to me. And since I didn't mess up the camera test, anyone with half a brain could guess my grade would rise.
'…This isn't bad.'
I steadied my mind.
It was still early in the program. The grades set now were just for early-stage narrative building. Once team missions began, these grades would stop mattering much.
'I can make up for this later.'
When the real missions started, everyone would be fighting like hyenas for screen time and line distribution. If I stayed quiet, I could easily fade into the background.
And my current "screen time" was nothing dramatic anyway—just "D-class's responsible dance leader who works hard," with a sprinkle of "D-to-A upgrade, early-stage overcoming character." Once stronger characters emerged later, mine would easily be overshadowed.
I folded the evaluation sheet and slipped it into my pocket. Right then, Jane raised her voice.
"Good work, everyone. Now we'll begin shifting trainees according to their new grades. First, those who will be moving from D-grade down to F-grade."
Several D-class trainees stood with dark expressions. I quietly studied their faces.
'…Most of them… I barely know.'
They were the ones who would dance for a bit and then stop, leaning against the wall and killing time. I had no real connection to any of them, so I felt nothing in particular.
Once they left the room, Jane called the next group.
"Now, the trainees who grew from D-grade to C-grade."
More trainees stood—many more than those who dropped. Among them was Zixuan.
"Thanks, hyung!"
He whispered that to me before hurrying out.
I clapped lightly along with the others. Given what I'd seen during practice, C was a little lower than his best, but he still moved up, so Zixuan seemed satisfied.
"Next, trainees moving from D-grade to B-grade."
A reasonable number of trainees stood up, smiling. They walked out with eased expressions, waving back at the ones who remained.
"...."
Clapping as the departing trainees left, I glanced sideways.
Beside me, unmoving, was Joo Danwoo.
'…He's staying.'
He had fumbled the entire latter half, but the first half of his evaluation had shown decent skill. Too good to drop him to F, but not good enough to raise him—so the mentors must have judged.
Since lunchtime until now, Danwoo hadn't said a word. His face looked drained, his spirit half gone.
It wasn't hard to guess his state.
'He's hit a wall.'
He trained harder than anyone during the camp, only to stumble at the actual camera test. It made sense that he'd be crushed.
Right now, he was probably feeling deep disillusionment with everything.
'Maybe… the reason the idol named Joo Danwoo never existed before my regression was simply because he gave up completely.'
As I watched him, that possibility came naturally to mind.