Chapter 48: Survival Entertainment Show - Group Original Song (5)

Chapter 48: Survival Entertainment Show - Group Original Song (5)

Despite most of them being novices at writing lyrics, the quality of their lyrics was surprisingly good. Perhaps it was because they were the trainees shortlisted for debut, so they could craft lyrics that would surely strike a chord with the fans. Joo-Han, with his keen eye, made minor tweaks to any awkward phrases or content, effectively filling the once-empty lyric board.

The lyrics were more than just words; they were heartfelt messages that the trainees wanted to share with each other, conveying a depth of unspoken gratitude. They were so profound that they often stirred deep emotions within us as we read them.

After observing the board with a critical eye, Joo-Han finally nodded and his face broke into a look of satisfaction. "Good job. Well done, everyone."

This marked the final phase of our lyric selection. Joo-Han's gaze then settled on me, signaling my turn. "Hyun-Woo, come forward."

Feeling the weight of the other members' eyes on me, I stood up and approached the large board. There, I carefully penned the lyrics that I had been mulling over.

We won't forget the tears we shed together.

Let's rise together.

We will meet again among the stars?.

“We will meet again among the stars.” That line held a promise—a promise of success and reunion. It was a wish to reunite in triumph despite our paths diverging. For me, these words carried special significance, as they reflected our collective journey and the heartfelt sentiment I wanted to express, especially to younger trainees.

Joo-Han scrutinized the lyrics for what seemed like an eternity. Then, he proposed, "Everyone, I personally think Hyun-Woo's lyrics should be the last. Any objections?"

No one opposed his suggestion, so Joo-Han added my lyrics to the end of the board with a brief glance at us all.

"That settles the lyrics. Shall we start practicing?" His words signaled the beginning of what would be a rigorous four-week practice session for all fourteen of us.

*** New novel chapters are published on

Within the conference room of YMM Entertainment, despite the late hour, the planning team and Chronos still delved into a deep discussion in a tense atmosphere.

"Shall we play the second song?"

"Yes, please go ahead."

In line with the dreamlike concept we aimed to achieve, the songs seamlessly played one after another. Upon listening, the realization dawned upon us that selecting just one would prove to be a challenging task, given the exceptional quality of each composition. However, amidst this remarkable collection, one particular song managed to capture our attention. With its captivating melody, the second song held us spellbound. Our team was visibly moved, swayed by its rhythm—a stark contrast to the planning team, who maintained stoic expressions while listening.

"Alright, let's listen to the third song."

The session progressed with minimal commentary, transitioning seamlessly from one song to the next. Each track was so appealing that it elicited spontaneous exclamations of approval. While we would love to include all these songs in our album, unfortunately, we shouldn't have multiple songs with the same concept in one album.

“Hmm...”

After a reflective pause following the fifth song, Supervisor Kim turned to us, seeking our input. "What do you think? Which song do you believe is the right choice?"

He sought our opinions, but the tense atmosphere in the room made it clear that speaking freely wasn't really an option. Nonetheless, a response was necessary. As I pondered over it, Joo-Han confidently articulated his viewpoint. "The fourth song kicks off strong, but it loses momentum quickly. Because of it, the transition to the chorus feels somewhat random and inconsistent."

“Yeah, I felt the same thing. I only put this as a candidate because of the great intro, but it is quite lacking indeed,” Supervisor Kim replied and noted Joo-Han’s comment before redirecting his attention to the rest of us.

“What about the others? What do you guys think?”

I expressed my preference, stating, "I'm leaning toward the second song. All five are remarkable, but this one seems particularly fitting for a live performance."

Lee Jin-Sung chimed in, saying, "That one is perfect for a dynamic dance routine. My vote is for the second song as well."

Following that, Park Yoon-Chan shared his perspective and stated, "I'd go with the last song. Its powerful intro and vocals seem tailor-made for a competition."

Goh Yoo-Joon added, "I agree with Yoon-Chan’s thought."

"Hi, the original Chronos members. It's my first time seeing you all up close," the director responded warmly, though we could only manage an awkward greeting in return. The cameramen then packed the cameras, and we all headed to the Han River.

On our way, Il-Seong looked concerned and asked, "Hyun-Woo, did I overstep my boundaries by suggesting the Han River trip? I hope it's not too much trouble for the broadcast team."

“Huh? Why?”

“I feel like I’ve just added unnecessary work for them.”

Hearing this, I reassured him, "Don't worry, the director mentioned we should take breaks and have fun before the show."

"Really?" His face lit up with relief.

"Yeah, they'll definitely appreciate it."

Il-Seong finally relaxed, his face easing into relief.

“Wow, you are so cool, Hyun-Woo hyung. You really seem like a true celebrity now,” Hye-Seong commented as he approached us.

I laughed, downplaying it. "A celebrity? You should've seen how jittery we all were at the beginning.”

“Well, I could tell from how Joo-Han hyung was holding the self-cam, haha.”

As we strolled along, the path under our feet became familiar, leading us toward the river. Its late-night beauty, mirrored in the water, had always been a place of solace for us, especially during challenging times with other trainees.

“Where is Suh Hyun-Woo!?” The sudden call of my name made me turn around. I then found Goh Yoo-Joon and Han Jun searching for me in the crowd.

Standing beside me, Il-Seong gestured toward them with a knowing look and commented with a hint of amusement, "The same-age trio seems inseparable."

"Not really," I replied, playfully dismissing his observation, and moved toward Goh Yoo-Joon and Han Jun.

"What’s up!" I shouted, narrowing the distance between us. Goh Yoo-Joon then gestured, telling me to come faster.

"Come with us!" he urged.

"You come here," I responded, pausing to let the cameraman catch up. Soon, we found ourselves naturally drifting from the rest of the group, walking side by side as the camera kept pace with us.

- You three must be really close, right?

The cameraman’s question hung in the air as we exchanged glances and nodded.

"We always hung out together. We're the same age," I explained, reflecting on our shared past.

- It must feel special to perform together like this.

The question struck a chord in us, and for a moment, we were silent. Our faces were etched with a mix of emotions. Sensing the shift in mood, the cameraman looked at us curiously.

Breaking the silence, I voiced our shared sentiment. "It does feel special. Performing together has always been our dream, hasn't it?"

"Right." They agreed, the weight of our shared past palpable in that single word.

We then came to a stop, leaning against the railing. Without realizing it, the gap between us and the other members had widened. Just like that, the Han River's waves shimmered in the night, evoking a sense of overwhelming emotions. As a complex mix of feelings enveloped us, the cameraman tactfully refrained from probing further.

After a moment of reflective silence, Goh Yoo-Joon broke the stillness with a question. "Jun, do you still feel the same way?" His voice tinged with concern.

Han Jun hesitated, his internal conflict reflected in his expression, but eventually, he nodded. "For now, yes. Perhaps I'll reconsider later." His words were trailing off. His desire to step away from being a trainee stemmed from feeling overshadowed and recognizing that he wasn't the primary focus. The blow to his usual confidence made this setback even more significant. I empathized deeply, understanding his decision too well to rashly encourage him to stay.

After a thoughtful pause, I shared my own feelings. "I really wish you wouldn't quit. It might be selfish of me, but your talent is too great to be wasted."

I hoped my words would bring him some comfort—a beacon of hope in the midst of his uncertainty—if he were wrestling with doubts about his importance to the company.