The entertainment industry is small. Because of that, trainees often knew of one another—whether through rumors or by being connected by one or two degrees of separation.
Plenty of people move from company to company while living the trainee life, after all.
And after the first mission, I heard about Joo Dan-woo in exactly that way—from a trainee who had transferred from SZZ Label to KRM.
—Dan-woo hyung? Honestly, it's impressive he's still hanging on there. About two years ago, after a certain trainee joined, a bunch of us started fleeing SZZ. I left because of that dude too…
Faction-building among trainees, rivalry, and political backstabbing were not rare. Even if they practiced together, until the moment they officially became one team, everyone was ultimately still a competitor.
But at SZZ, it seemed things had gone too far.
—That trainee who joined back then? He was really skilled at politics. He formed a clique with a few others and picked people off one by one—bullying them until they quit. And SZZ didn't do anything, like they wanted the strongest to survive. A lot of people were disappointed.
He told me that Joo Dan-woo had been one of the victims, and yet, even until the day he himself quit the company, Dan-woo had stubbornly stayed.
But he had only ever "endured."
—Honestly, the fact that Dan-woo hyung is still at SZZ is unbelievable. By the time I left, he was… mm.
He didn't finish his sentence. But I already knew what must have happened afterward.
He must have gotten more and more lost.
As his self-esteem plummeted, his skills would have stagnated—and that would only have fueled more criticism and mockery toward him.
Once he completely lost confidence, his vision would've narrowed, leaving him unable even to consider changing companies. Debut would no longer be a goal—just surviving day by day.
Dan-woo had been a trainee at SZZ Label since middle school.
Back then, SZZ had just been founded. They recruited idol trainees, but instead of forming a group, they focused on supporting rappers. Dan-woo had effectively been stored away with nothing to do but wait.
He was always known as a "good" trainee. But that didn't mean he had a wide network.
Since SZZ was both his first and last company, and because he didn't seem the type to form deep relationships, he wouldn't have had anyone to feed him industry news.
So he would have waited, thinking I'll debut soon, growing older and more isolated, practicing endlessly, until he became a target of internal politics. His self-esteem would've been crushed, and his confidence in his skill destroyed.
If you think about it, the reason he stayed at SZZ becomes obvious.
At some point, SZZ must have become the only place he believed he could debut. His age and declining confidence would've made him think transferring companies wasn't an option.
And it wasn't hard for me to figure out who had wrecked Dan-woo like that.
At the first evaluation, Park Woo-jae had introduced himself as having trained for two years. Judging from the dynamic between him and Dan-woo, he was clearly the perpetrator.
Because of that, I could guess that even after receiving harsh criticism from the mentors, Team 6 would not try to drastically change their arrangement or positions.
Team 6's atmosphere was clearly led by Park Woo-jae—and he probably thought maintaining the status quo was enough.
The reason I thought so was simple:
He was one of the guys who'd eventually end up in jail.
Because he was guaranteed to debut under SZZ.
Back during the first mission, when I saw his face on the stage through the screen, I felt a sense of déjà vu.
Retracing my memory, I realized he was one of the SZZ idol group members who would later become involved in a drug scandal.
Well—"would become involved," since the incident hadn't happened yet.
Either way, I remembered his face because I'd seen him on the news—photos of the group members in masks and sunglasses walking into court had been shown alongside footage of their performances.
Once I connected that memory, the current state of Team 6 made perfect sense.
Park Woo-jae has no reason to stake his life on this mission.
And therefore, no reason to put in serious effort.
His debut was already guaranteed. If he looked decent enough on screen, great; if he got eliminated, he wouldn't care.
His real goal was exposure. Now that he'd gained enough recognition, dropping out and focusing on debut preparations would be more beneficial for him.
In fact, showing off some good hip-hop skills and then getting eliminated around the second mission might be the optimal path for him.
Of course, this only applied to him.
But for Joo Dan-woo and the other Team 6 trainees, it was different.
They were genuinely trying to debut. Today's events must have shaken them badly.
I looked at the pale-faced Dan-woo. He still stood awkwardly by the door. I decided to ask him something directly.
"How's your team's arrangement going?"
"Ah… we're…"
Dan-woo fell silent, smiling stiffly with a rigid expression. He looked exhausted.
…So it's not going well.
As expected. Dan-woo and the others had been pushed aside by Woo-jae again.
Woo-jae was strong enough at politics to force trainees out of SZZ. It was highly likely he was smothering the dissatisfaction and anxiety of his teammates, dragging everything in the direction he wanted.
I exhaled softly. I could see the future of Team 6 clearly:
In the remaining time, Dan-woo would be worn down by Woo-jae again. He would go home once more with shredded self-esteem.
Just as he always had at SZZ.
Even though I could predict that outcome, I said nothing more to Dan-woo.
Because right now, he and I are competitors.
Even if I understood all of this, I couldn't help him.
He and I were competing over the same mission track. If he fell, I survived; if I survived, he fell. Anything I said under the guise of "help" would be hypocrisy.
And honestly… it was more advantageous for me if Team 6 stayed exactly as they were.
If things continue this way, the team most likely to advance is Team 4.
If they stuck to their current positions and arrangement, Team 6 had no room for growth. No matter how badly I or Yoo Chan-hee performed, Team 4 would win without surprise.
If things continued this way, Park Woo-jae would return to SZZ Label to prepare for debut, while Joo Dan-woo would, with high probability, be dropped by SZZ and forced back into ordinary life.
Whether he wanted it or not—without the slightest choice.
"…Hyung."
"Hm?"
Which meant, if anyone could still do something—
"You are doing everything you can… right?"
"…!"
—then it could only be Joo Dan-woo himself.
Only Dan-woo could save Dan-woo.
"I was just wondering… if there's something you could do but aren't doing."
"…That's…"
"It's your choice what you do… but…"
I looked at his startled face and hesitated for a moment.
Should I stop here? Or say it all?
My heart was tangled, but my decision was quick.
"Just… don't regret it later."
I couldn't help him—but I didn't want to see his effort betrayed either.
Whatever direction he chooses, if he can avoid regrets, the self-reproach afterward will hurt less.
What's most agonizing is letting time slip by while there was still something you could've done.
At least if he struggled with everything he had, he wouldn't be left with lifelong regret. No matter the outcome, he'd still have the memory of having done his best.
Whether he ended up doing nothing or chose to struggle because it was going to be hard either way… I hoped he'd choose the latter.
Regret over not trying never lets go; it eats a person alive.
…In that sense, even my regression is basically the result of that regret eating me alive.
The looming threat of death, these absurd missions—perhaps they were all consequences of past wrong choices.
Feeling my thoughts get muddled, I let out a small sigh and stood up from the stairs, giving him space. Dan-woo needed time too.
I stepped out into the dark hallway—only to freeze in place.
Come to think of it.
…Where am I supposed to go now?
The practice room was taken by Yoo Chan-hee.
The stair landing was taken by Joo Dan-woo.
And because both had claimed a spot, I no longer had anywhere to practice.
"...."
So I ended up standing there like a raccoon who dropped his cotton candy—lost, dazed, stranded in the hallway.
***
The Next Day
"Yu-ha, did you practice in the cafeteria yesterday?"
Carrying my tray, I looked wearily at Aiden Lee as he passed by and asked the question that had been bugging me.
But instead of answering, he took one look at my face, grinned mischievously, and sat at another table.
I sighed deeply.
Sitting beside me, Cheon Serim burst into giggles and nudged me with his elbow.
"Hyung, I think the rumor already spread. Apparently some trainee was doing late-night aerobics alone in the cafeteria. If you wanted attention, success!"
"…Be quiet."
I was exhausted.
I couldn't even bring myself to finish the sentence as I mechanically lifted my spoon and shoveled food into my mouth. I felt half-souled. Physically I was fine thanks to the calming pills, but mentally, I was worn thin.
Late-night aerobics… seriously.
I'd given the practice room to Chan-hee.
Given the stairway to Dan-woo.
Then circled the whole training center, searching for an empty space, and found absolutely none.
I couldn't waste time doing nothing.
But I also couldn't rehearse while blocking the hallways.
I tried checking other practice rooms, but every team had at least one member holed up inside.
Any empty rooms were locked.
In the end, the cafeteria was the only place left.
Which was how I ended up practicing alone there—until I ran into another trainee coming down for water, resulting in a very humiliating encounter.
"Did you talk things out with Chan-hee yesterday?"
"Hm."
Do Ji-hyuk asked as we ate, and I made a vague sound.
Should I call that "talking well"…?
I had no idea how to answer since the results weren't out yet, so I only nodded.
Then I glanced at Chan-hee, who was eating with Hwang Young-oh and Yoo Min-seong, all seated a short distance from our group.
He looked tired, spoon moving slowly. Sensing my gaze, he suddenly lifted his head.
"..."
"…?"
He quickly looked away and avoided my eyes.
I blinked in mild confusion.
Until now, whenever our eyes met—
What are you staring at? You enjoying the show?
You're annoying me, so stop looking, okay?
—he would either glare at me or snap immediately.
But now, instead of getting irritated or hostile, Chan-hee quietly avoided my gaze, almost looking… embarrassed.
…What the hell?
His reaction startled me. Based on what happened last night, he should be showing even more hostility today.
…Is he exhausted?
I resumed eating, trying to brush off the confusion.
But that wasn't the end of the surprises I'd face today.
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