“Guess that’s us,” Woo Jin said. He briefly glanced at something over Min Jae's shoulder. “There’s someone else I wanna say hi to. But we should sit together, hyung. Try and save me a seat?”
Min Jae nodded, letting his grin spread a little wider. An alliance, even a temporary one, was a highly valuable asset in a place like this. “You got it.”
The backstage exit led to a private loading area where a pair of ordinary-looking charter buses waited. Nothing flashy to alert the potential fans. The crowd of a hundred contestants split organically, heading for the nearest open door. Min Jae followed a pack of them onto the closest bus. It was spacious, with more than enough room for everyone to spread out. He passed by Woo Jin, standing near the front, already chatting easily with a small group of guys, offering him a casual nod. Min Jae tried to place the other guys from the evaluations. A rapper, maybe? And a dancer? Shit. Why hadn’t he been paying better attention? He’d been so focused on himself, but the time for that was over. He’d need to sharpen the hell up if he was gonna keep winning.
Min Jae chose an empty row near the middle, taking the window seat. He sat upright, arms crossed, letting his gaze sweep over the other contestants as they found their seats, putting faces to the performances he could remember. The producers had casthim as the underdog role, that much was clear. But a good drama needed more than one character. It needed heroes, villains, comic relief, and a cast of supporting players. He needed to know who else was being cast and in what parts.
So many of the faces surrounding him screamed of privilege. He could see it in their perfectly clear skin, their expensive haircuts, and the casual ease with which they wore their designer practice gear. Trainees whose rich parents or companies had paved their way with the best lessons, the best nutrition, the best everything. And for what? To be ranked below him? He smirked, quietly snorting. They hadn't bled for this. Not like he had. They hadn’t sacrificed pieces of their soul just to stay in the game. That’s why he was number one, and they weren't. They hadn't earned it.
Min Jae’s roaming gaze settled on Woo Jin again. He’d already moved on, chatting up another contestant sitting alone. Was he one of the other Co-modity guys? He kind of looked familiar. But Woo Jin was more than just a familiar face. He was a potential source of intelligence. An alliance could be more than having someone on your side. He needed information, and Woo Jin’s easy way with the other contestants could be a good source for that.
The doors hissed shut, and with a smooth, quiet rumble, they pulled away from the Vision Center loading dock. Min Jae watched the massive building recede, his resolve hardening into something cold and sharp. He knew his storyline. Now he just needed to learn everyone else's.
With the bus in motion, Woo Jin slid into the seat beside Min Jae. “Thanks for saving me a spot, hyung.”
“Of course,” Min Jae said, patting Woo Jin’s thigh like a good hyung would. “Who were you talking to back there?”
“Oh, just Im Chul Min and Song Dae Hyun,” Woo Jin replied with a shrug. “You know how it is. You see the same faces at a dozen different shows, you start to remember them.”
The names meant nothing to Min Jae, another cost of his singular focus. He’d thoroughly isolated himself after his series of personal tragedies, splitting his efforts between his own physical therapy, training, and taking care of his grandmother. He had time for little else, especially attending auditions and industry events. Not that he would’ve been welcome at any of those, anyway. If someone were to ask his grandmother about his social life, she would’ve regaled them with story after story, convinced that Min Jae was popular, with an endless list of friends. All lies, of course. In truth, he rarely went out when he wasn’t working. And, when he was, he was never with someone he’d ever call a friend.
“Chul Min’s a rapper, right? Is he any good?”
“He’s legit. Writes all his own stuff,” Woo Jin confirmed. “Dae Hyun’s a dance machine, but–” He paused for an eye roll. “He’s kind of a show-off.”
Min Jae nodded, filing the information away. “Are they who you’re hoping to team up with for the missions?”
Woo Jin frowned, his thick eyebrows furrowed. “Damn, I don’t know. Haven’t really thought that far ahead.” He frowned a little deeper. “Why? Is that important?”
Min Jae slowly nodded, leaning in and lowering his voice. “Of course it is. It’s the one thing the fans always get wrong. They claim that one great performer can carry a weak team. But it’s usually the opposite. Right? A weak performer on your team drags everyone down. Your team is everything.”
Woo Jin’s eyes widened slightly. He slowly nodded back as understanding dawned. “Wow, I hadn’t considered that.” His eyes narrowed again, shrewd and calculating. “Damn. Thanks for the tip, hyung.”
“For sure,” Min Jae replied, allowing himself a small, genuine smile. He leaned back in his seat, the earlier tension in his shoulders easing for the first time. “We have to look out for each other from now on.”
Certain that he’d found a new ally, Woo Jin started sharing some of his stories about performing, the life of an idol who’d never quite found success. Min Jae soaked it all up, grateful for a glimpse behind the curtain. Information that might come in handy soon. And it passed the time well enough. He was almost surprised when the bus turned off the highway, finding a road that wound up into the mountains. They eventually stopped at a large, metal security gate under a minimalist silver sign that read Sky Village. Most of the guys on the bus, Min Jae included, had their gaze pointed out the window as the bus traveled up the winding entrance road, finally stopping in a massive circular driveway at the main entrance to their new dorm.
The word dorm was hardly adequate to describe the modern fortress. The monstrous structure of polished concrete, dark wood, and vast, curving panes of glass was seemingly built directly into the slope of the mountain itself. Long, windowed wings spiraled out from the central hub, disappearing into the dense forest. The other contestants murmured in awe, several reaching for their phones before realizing that they’d already been surrendered to the show’s producers. Min Jae fought off a sneer as he examined his new surroundings. The dozens of subtle, dome-shaped security cameras tucked under the eaves of the roof. The three-meter-high perimeter fence, its black steel posts almost invisible against the dark woods behind it. The sheer, arrogant expense of it all.
The bus doors hissed open. Woo Jin gave Min Jae a quick nod before disappearing into the crowd of guys filing out. Min Jae quickly joined them, stepping out to a wave of cool, clean mountain air smelling of pine and damp earth.
A producer brandishing an overly cheerful smile gathered them in the driveway. "Welcome to Sky Village!" she chirped. "The forge where SCG Entertainment molds the future of K-pop. This is where your dreams will take flight, too! For theduration of your time with Dream Boy Project, this will be your home, your studio, and your stage."
Min Jae followed the others inside to a vast, cavernous lobby with a three-story ceiling and polished stone floors that echoed with their squeaky footsteps. The air was cool and smelled of money. A single, massive abstract sculpture of twisted, gleaming metal dominated the center. The fucking thing had to cost a fortune. Probably more than his grandmother's house. Certainly more than he’d ever made in his entire life. It almost made him sick.
Min Jae followed the others and their guide deeper into the facility—past state-of-the-art dance studios, fully-equipped recording booths, and a gym that looked better than most private clubs. Was this how SCG’s trainees actually lived? What he would’ve given to have that kind of support with his company. Or even half that much. All the time he spent navigating doctors and therapists, first for him, and then his mother. All the money he’d spent–money he was still paying back. Meanwhile, SCG’s trainees could stop at an in-house espresso stand on the way from their dorm to the recording studio. He quietly huffed, casting off his useless envy, turning it into motivation. The luxury was offensive, but the resources were undeniably valuable. These were tools. He was here to use those tools to win.
Everyone finally gathered in a moderately-sized amphitheater, set up with cascading, crescent-shaped rows of padded seats surrounding a central, open proscenium stage where a man waited with a pair of PAs. No camera crews, but Min Jae noticed several mounted swivel cameras in the corners. So, probably not show material, but you never knew. Better to assume, going forward, that anything he did or said was fodder for the editors.
The waiting man clearly wasn’t one of the harried show producers. He was Company. Probably late thirties but looked younger, with a sharp, modern haircut and the kind of flawless skin that cost a fortune to maintain. Dressed in a simple butimpeccably tailored black knit polo, dark trousers that broke perfectly over a pair of minimalist white leather sneakers, and a watch that probably cost more than the lobby statue. He stepped forward, brightly smiling, as he clapped his hands together to get their attention.
“Good evening, everyone.” The man’s voice carried well. Probably not his first time addressing a roomful of trainees. “My name is Yoo Ji Ho. I’m the Vice President of Artist Development at SCG Entertainment, and I wanted to personally welcome you all to Sky Village. This is where we turn trainees into idols.” He paused, making a show of taking in the faces assembled before him. “I can see already that you’ve got some exceptional performers among you. That’s good.” He grinned. “I’d hate to waste all the money it costs to heat this place without producing a top-notch group of idols.” A murmur of polite laughter rippled through the contestants. “But you’re probably all wondering what the deal here is, so I’ll tell you. You’re about to choose your first room assignments. And, as a reward for our top-ranked contestants, they’ll choose the people they room with first. Choose wisely.” He paused again, allowing a moment of chatter as everyone digested their next task. “Let’s start with our number one contestant, Kwon Min Jae.”
All eyes immediately turned to Min Jae. Of course, everyone already knew who he was. He stood. “Thank you, Mr. Yoo, sir. I choose to room with Han Woo Jin, Im Chul Min, and Song Dae Hyun.” The names rolled off his tongue as if they were all the best of friends. He had no idea if Chul Min or Dae Hyun were good choices, only that Woo Jin had spoken with them on the bus. But he had to make a choice and he wanted to gather more allies. Guys that Woo Jin was friendly with made sense.
Ji Ho’s smooth, encouraging smile didn't falter. “An excellent and decisive choice. Next up, our number two contestant, Andy Kim!”
Min Jae watched from the side as the American stood fromhis seat with a comfortable, casual ease that suggested he did this sort of thing all the time. His first, immediate choice, was the guy seated beside him, who’d practically been by his side all day, Leo Chen. To Min Jae’s surprise, Andy paused, his forehead wrinkling as he surveyed the room with narrow-eyed concentration. Then his expression softened. “Honestly,” he said, his voice open and friendly, “I don’t even know most of you guys yet. So, does anyone else want to room with us?”
