24
Min Jae stood apartfrom the backstage chaos at the Vision Center, a still, silent point in the swirling commotion, his reflection a dark, distorted stranger in the polished surface of a forgotten mirror leaning against the wall. Behind him, a storm of frantic, last-minute vocal warm-ups clashed with the muffled, thunderous roar of the crowd out beyond the stage. Thick layers of hairspray and sweat hung in the air like day-old soup.
His mind was a storm, too.
Min Jae had never imagined falling in love, let alone telling someone that he loved them. No, that wasn’t true. He imagined falling in love all the time. Not in that false, stupid way that his clients always wanted, imagining themselves to be the one that would break him from his self-destructive cycle, whisking him away to a carefree life of ease and comfort. Of course, even the self-destructive cycle was an act. He had layers.
No, he’d imagined falling in love the classic way, the way the dramas would have you believe it always happened. A surprising moment of intimacy followed by a soft, earnest confession. Which is sort of how it happened, right before Andy fucked his brains out.
Min Jae just never believed it would happen to him. Life hadalways found a way to dash even his simplest hopes. Why wouldn’t falling in love be the same way? He could never have foreseen himself falling for another contestant. No, he was far too focused, singular in his personal mission to debut. But Andy had melted his walls one charming smile and cheeky wink at a time. He’d somehow connected with Andy in a way he’d never managed–never even tried–with anyone else. He’d connected in a way that even that asshole Choi and his maniacal, duplicitous plans couldn’t overcome. Even apart, Min Jae and Andy were forces to be reckoned with. Together, they made magic happen.
Pleasantly sighing, Min Jae bent at the waist, gently stretching his calves and hamstrings, before pushing his right leg out into a simple lunge. He winced, anticipating the tightness in his knee, but felt nothing. He had a second steroid shot from the medic back at Sky Village that morning to thank for that. A reckless choice, she’d warned. A necessary one, the producer had insisted. Min Jae had agreed without hesitation. Leaning into the smooth, fluid movement, he could still feel his diminished range of motion. The shot only masked a problem he knew all too well. He’d choreographed his parts to push himself beyond his normal limits. Now, he’d be lucky to even reach them. But he was nothing if not a dancer, and he’d been living with a bad knee since he was a teenager. He knew how to make a ninety-percent performance look like a hundred.
“Hyung!” Woo Jin’s voice echoed from behind him, sandpaper rubbing on Min Jae's raw nerves. “I was hoping to do a quick team cheer before they started filming.”
Min Jae sighed. For some reason, even as the team leader, Woo Jin could only ask for Min Jae’s participation. His agreement. Min Jae had hoped for better. He would’ve demanded that Woo Jin fall in line, meeting any defiance with undeniable authority. But not everyone had what it took to be a leader. “I’ll be there soon enough. I’m almost done stretching.”
Woo Jin frowned, his eyes flicking down to the reflection ofMin Jae’s knees. “Are you sure you're okay to do this? It’s not too late to switch parts. I know the killing part choreo as well as you, and–”
“I said I’m fine,” Min Jae sharply countered, before quietly huffing. “Sorry, that was uncalled for. And we both know you gave me this part because I’m the only one who can pull it off. Besides, it’s way too late to switch parts now.”
Woo Jin laughed, shaking his head. “Damn. You don’t have to be an asshole about it, hyung. I’m not the ajeossi with the bad knee.”
“Ajeossi?” Min Jae chuckled at Woo Jin’s unexpected comeback. Maybe there was a leader in there somewhere, after all. “My knee wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t have to carry you through the whole damn stage.”
Woo Jin loudly snorted. “Fuck. I’m never gonna win with you, am I, hyung?”
“No, never. Now, let your sunbae finish stretching his bad knee so he can be there for your team cheer.”
Woo Jin nodded before walking away. Min Jae watched him go, enjoying a warm surge of pride at the way his friend had developed under his leadership. His friend? Min Jae shook his head. Another thing he hadn’t expected to happen. And another source of strength. Choi may have been an asshole. And the company would be what it would be. But having the support of friends like Woo Jin and loved ones like Andy was enough to fuel Min Jae’s fire. He’d win despite whatever the many other guys like Choi in the industry did to him.
Min Jae soon followed after Woo Jin, participating in his silly team cheer before joining the remaining teams in the backstage viewing room. He’d once sat in that room packed shoulder-to-shoulder with a hundred other Dream Boys who were just happy to be there, who hadn't yet realized that most of them were just background characters, extras brought in to make the real leads look better. Things had quieted considerably since then. Nomore filler. No one was desperately competing for camera time with their noisy, frenzied, overdone reactions to even the littlest things. No more easy wins. Everyone left in this room was a main character in their own story, and every single one of them was a threat. The party from all those weeks ago had long since ended, leaving only the final round of a brutal audition, and there weren't enough parts for everyone.
Min Jae waited until the rest of his team was seated before taking the last seat in the row next to Jin Hwan, giving Woo Jin the space he needed to lead. As the oldest and most experienced member of theSweet Toothteam, everyone tended to look to Min Jae for leadership, Woo Jin included. But that wasn’t his role. Sometimes, a little distance made all the difference.
Andy’s team would be the first to perform, so they were already backstage when Si Woo appeared on the monitor to start the show. The air in the viewing room seemed to thicken, charging with an almost electric hum for their final performances. Min Jae pulled off the impossible by keeping his expression passive as theItty Bittyteam took the stage. Aside from a few stolen glances, he’d hardly seen Andy since they’d declared their love for one another in their final secret restroom rendezvous. That was a mutual decision so he could keep his focus entirely on ensuring he–and his knee–would be ready for their final stage. It probably would’ve worked, too, if they hadn’t kept breaking their own rules, finding secret moments when nobody and no cameras were watching to kiss and once again declare their love.
The moment the lights hit, the entire auditorium flooded with an infectious, joyful energy. The massive video wall behind theItty Bittyteam lit up like a retro arcade cabinet bursting with 8-bit graphics in hot pink, electric blue, and sunny yellow. The team looked effortlessly cool in a coordinated explosion of 90s vibes, a comfortable mix of light-wash denim, oversized flannels, and colorful vintage windbreakers. Each one of them had theirown distinct, playful style, but the bright pops of color—a yellow beanie, a pair of pink high-tops, a striped cuff—tied them all together into a single, vibrant crew. Andy's look might’ve come from his own closet–baggy, light-wash jeans, a skin-tight white tee, and a customized denim vest with colorful, retro patches, capped off with neon green wristbands and a matching headband.
As the bright, funky opening notes ofItty Bittyfilled the room, the stage floor itself lit up under their feet with every perfectly timed stomp and slide. Andy, of course, was a supernova, radiating a wholesome joy that nearly set the very air ablaze. Effortlessly charming, with perfectly timed smiles and winks, his every movement overflowed with an infectious, playful charisma. He was hosting a party, and every single Dream Maker was his personal guest of honor. His team fed off his energy, their own performances elevated, their faces afire with the same genuine delight.
The Dream Boys surrounding Min Jae could hardly contain their excitement. He couldn’t blame them. It was a flawless performance. Just like during the mentor reviews, Andy overflowed with charm and charisma. It was why Min Jae had fallen for him. It was why Andy was destined to become an idol.
Jin Hwan loudly sighed before leaning close to Min Jae. “What’s the point now, hyung? There’s no way I’m beating any of them.”
Min Jae frowned, chilled by the thought of one of his teammates losing their nerve at the last minute. The difficult fact was that Jin Hwan was probably right. He was very good. He had to be just to make it that far. But the chances of him making it into the Final Eight were hardly guaranteed. “The point is to show the world your talent,” he replied, as loud as he dared, keeping his tone gentle. “You’re right, it’s possible that you may not win. But you’ve already beat 75 other Dream Boys to make it this far.And you get one more chance to show off on that stage. That can be enough for now, right?”
Jin Hwan seemed to consider Min Jae’s words for a moment before thoughtfully nodding. “Okay, yeah. You’re right. Even if I don’t debut at the end of all this, at least I got to prove I could hang with the best of them.” Then, to Min Jae’s surprise, he flashed a bittersweet grin. “And some agency’s gotta pick me up after this.”
Min Jae chuckled. He’d once walked the K-pop stages with the same brash, untested bravado, too. “They’d be stupid not to.”
That was the primary difference between Min Jae and Jin Hwan. Min Jae had already been down that agency trainee road to its unfortunately dead end. Sure, if he somehow failed to keep his top spot, there might be some other smaller company out there that would still take him on. But the life of an unknown idol was no better than the one he’d left behind, and it didn’t even pay as well. No, he needed to do whatever was in his power to pull off a final victory.
Andy wasn’t the only one who could make magic on his own. Min Jae could do it, too. Maybe not with the same breezy, effortless charm. But he had his own style of charm. He was the bad boy underdog, shooting up to the top ranks on determination alone. He had more determination than all the Dream Boys in the room combined. He’d win, and be with Andy, no matter what it took. Maybe that included doing a little team pep talk of his own. He needed them to be perfect, and for that, he needed to take the reins for a bit.
Min Jae found his moment once production came to collect his team for their stage. “Hey, everyone.” He kept his tone on the cheerful side of calm. “I’d like to talk to you all.” He glanced at Woo Jin, silently asking his permission.
Woo Jin enthusiastically nodded. In the end, propriety always won out. “Sure. What’s up?”
