Chapter 7: Are You Jumong?
I couldn’t afford to fall behind in the wake-up mission.
This wasn’t just some typical wake-up mission from a regular variety show.
This was an audition.
As with any other audition, there was no corner without meaning.
Having already experienced the Stardust Project, I knew this all too well.
The ranking in this wake-up mission would determine the opportunity to choose songs.
And why was that important?
Because 80% of an audition was determined by the song selection.
Moreover, I clearly remembered which songs would be included and which would receive the best reactions.
If you’re given a chance to choose the answer in a game where the answers are already set, you have to seize it.
Therefore, I absolutely had to come in first place.
Maybe it was that desperation.
The next day, my eyes flew open at 6 a.m.
I had set my alarm for around 6:30, so I hadn’t expected to wake up this early.
I must have been unconsciously nervous.
“Not bad.”
Now I had more time to prepare.
Most trainees would probably rush out with bare faces and messy appearances, barely dressed properly, like zombies.
Sure, fans might find that cute, but some would inevitably be immortalized as memes for their embarrassing appearances, forever mocked.
I had no intention of creating a dark history for myself.
Though I admit, looking all dressed up among that chaos might be funny in its own way, I at least completed the basics.
At the very least, I needed to avoid making a first impression as a zombie.
Ugh. The sunlight peeking through the window was a little too bright for my eyes.
From head to toe, I changed into the training clothes they gave us when we first joined, then fixed my hair.
When I checked the clock, it was a little past 6:30.
“Should I head out now?”
The wake-up bell was scheduled to ring suddenly around 6:50.
Might as well get some fresh air and clear my head.
I quietly opened the dormitory door, careful not to wake anyone.
But then—
"Uh… uh-oh!"
"Huh?"
Clatter clatter clatter.
The cameramen standing in the hallway with their equipment began to flee with startled faces.
Ah.
They must have been setting up for the shoot.
“I’m sorry….”
Better go back in.
Exactly twenty minutes later.
Wheeeee-!
A loud siren, like one from a fire hydrant, rang throughout the Starland dormitory.
It was a shocking sound loud enough to jolt anyone awake.
“Uwaaah!”
Flinch.
Seo Haim, who had been lying in bed, jerked up in shock.
The other trainees weren’t much different.
“What is it?”
“Ugh… so loud.”
Some, half-asleep, scratched their heads and buried their faces back into their pillows, wondering if they had dreamt it.
But not for long—right after the ranking evaluation, the theme song of Stardust that we had heard dozens of times blared throughout the dorm.
The childish lyrics filled the whole space.
Wake up and spread your dreams
You can do it
Take me take me
Reach out your hand
At this point, there was no going back to sleep.
Ha Junseo, acting on instinct, took a sip of what he called morning coffee and sprang up with messy hair.
Not that it was normal coffee—it was death brew with six espresso shots.
Lee Junhyeok was in the same boat.
Seo Haim, struggling to open his heavy eyelids, asked,
“What is this?”
The ceiling speaker answered in his place.
Static.
–We will now begin the wake-up mission.
“W–Wake-up mission?”
–All Starland residents, please come down to the first floor immediately.
–A small prize awaits you.
Prize?
Boing.
Seo Haim jumped down from the top bunk and frantically began to get dressed.
“A prize… I’ve got to go! Is it food?”
Some trainees responded instantly at the word “mission,” regardless of the situation.
‘What kind of nonsense is this first thing in the morning?’
Lee Junhyeok frowned but quickly changed his expression when he saw the camera.
“Ughhh!”
“Everyone wake up! Get up!”
Rustle rustle.
While urgently trying to wake the others, Seo Haim, still half-asleep, didn’t see where he was going and smacked his head on the bedpost again.
“Ow!”
Thanks to the effect of the americano, Ha Junseo came to his senses a bit faster and looked around in surprise.
Something felt off.
“Huh?”
Now that he thought about it, someone was already missing.
“Where’s Do Seohan?”
Contrary to the purpose of the wake-up mission, the atmosphere was relaxed.
Seohan walked with a light hum, his hoodie pulled over his head.
He strolled through the dorm building like it was his own home.
Of course—it was a building he’d wandered through countless times eight years ago.
“Is it this way?”
Seohan slowly moved toward the mission location.
Naturally, he was the only one on the first floor.
A few minutes later—
Thud thud thud.
From the stairs, a crowd rushed down noisily, but Seohan calmly read the mission sheet placed alone on the desk on the first floor.
Even in that moment, he didn’t forget to be mindful of the camera.
“Pop five balloons and receive a badge.”
Ah, this was easy.
Seohan smirked and picked up a dart for the balloon popping.
That was when—
“Waaait a moment!”
Tap tap tap.
A familiar face hurried in from behind.
It was Cha Seongbin.
‘Didn’t expect him?’
He arrived faster than expected.
Most of the others were probably still sitting dazed, trying to wake up.
“I’m Cha Seongbin! We met last time! That… Dan-O-Mu!”
No need to say it, I already know.
He was the joint H-rank in this evaluation. The guy I’d be fighting for center this afternoon.
Cha Seongbin, with his black hair, asked with a sly grin.
“Already awake? Wow, that’s amazing. I came pretty fast too, right?”
“You came really fast.”
Seohan gave a light smile and slowly scanned Cha Seongbin’s face.
The one who claimed the center spot from the early episodes and debuted in the top ranks.
Cha Seongbin, final 4th place in the Stardust Project.
And.
‘Self-withdrawing sunfish.’
During the darkest time when drug and assault scandals broke out within Stardust, he suddenly withdrew from the group.
That was the image of Cha Seongbin that Seohan remembered.
He must have thought he couldn’t hold on, so he gave up the hard-earned spot.
Someone who doesn’t know the details has no right to judge.
Still, it felt like a waste, considering his overflowing talent.
After that, he likely quit the entertainment industry and became a regular civilian like Seohan.
Since they weren’t close even in the past life, Seohan simply nodded with an awkward smile.
Did he sprint all the way here?
Not even out of breath—he’s got decent stamina.
Seohan scratched his head and quietly gave a thumbs-up.
No hard feelings. Other than being mentally fragile, he hadn’t committed any actual wrong.
But.
I would never give up first place.
Pop—
“Wait, wait. Could I have one too?”
Slide.
As he handed over a dart, Seohan skillfully aimed at another balloon.
“You’re the same Do Seohan who got H-rank, right?”
“Yes!”
Pop—
He was supposed to pop five balloons, and already he had succeeded twice.
That too while talking and barely looking at the target.
“Nice to meet you, we’ll see each other later.”
“Yes, do your best.”
Pop—
Another balloon popped in a single throw.
It was like watching a master’s exhibition.
“…Are you Jumong?”
Pop— Pop—
“Success.”
Seohan gave a polite bow to Cha Seongbin and turned away.
He even bowed 90 degrees, a proper show of manners.
“Nice.”
Seohan let out a quiet cheer and jogged off to collect the badge.
Because his expressions didn’t show much excitement, to Cha Seongbin it looked like some kid had come, popped five balloons in silence, and disappeared like the wind.
Pop—pop pop—
They popped in one go?
“Is it normally that easy?”
Of course not.
Cha Seongbin weakly looked down at his dart, which had missed and stuck in the floor.
‘What is he?’
He hit all five in one try?
Cha Seongbin stuck out his tongue in disbelief.
“Is he a dart player…”
‘Aaargh!’
Meanwhile, Do Seohan clenched his fist and screamed silently inside.
“…I got first place.”
The first-place badge was his.
Not the main stage studio, but a small practice room at Doubles.
Only three candidates had received H-rank and could challenge for the center position in this first evaluation.
Originally, more were planned, but only three met the judges’ expectations.
As it was a small group, the evaluation wouldn’t be extravagant either.
It would probably only be shown as a short behind-the-scenes clip on YouTube.
They would shoot just two videos here: the signal song evaluation and a personal talent video.
Today, instead of MC Han Dawon, teacher Yoo Minseo held the mic.
“You’re the center candidates, right?”
Do Seohan from Doubles, Cha Seongbin and Lee Dokyung as individual trainees.
Teacher Yoo Minseo looked over the three candidates and continued explaining.
“The evaluation will be decided by our scores and viewers’ votes.”
The ratio was 30 to 70. Viewers’ votes were absolutely critical.
Seohan nodded and focused on teacher Yoo Minseo’s words.
After that, the filming for the signal song evaluation began quickly.
A simple shoot where they just had to perform the 3-minute choreography with vocals.
Of course, that 3-minute video would fully showcase their skills, so Seohan did his best.
“Yes, thank you.”
Because this wasn’t for broadcast judging, no dramatic commentary like in the first evaluation was added.
No exaggerated lines like “an amazing performance” or “worst vocals ever.”
Teacher Yoo Minseo also stayed quiet and focused on judging.
After all three finished filming, she picked up the mic again.
“Then shall we move on to the personal talents?”
When it came to personal talents, no one expected anything too extraordinary.
Things like musical instruments or flashy skills like b-boying that fans might enjoy—just that level would be enough to work, or so she thought.
But then.
From Do Seohan, who stepped up as the first performer, came something completely unexpected.
“I’ll be doing vocal impressions.”
Vocal impressions?
The dance trainer sitting next to teacher Yoo Minseo showed a subtle frown.
From the look on his face, it seemed like he was trying not to laugh.
‘Right now, all of a sudden?’
Of course, there were some who did vocal impressions…
But most people would pick either singing or some unique dance.
To attempt such an unconventional talent for a center evaluation video?
And in this serious atmosphere, no less.
“Ah, go ahead and try it.”
Cha Seongbin, who had been nervously preparing for his b-boying performance as an individual trainee, blinked in confusion.
Only teacher Yoo Minseo remained serious.
‘He’s a clever one.’
She could tell from the way he calculated his song choice.
He must’ve anticipated what the others would bring to the table.
If he wanted to stand out by showing something unusual, then surely he wasn’t going to just do an ordinary impression.
Her prediction was only half right.
“Around early 2010…”
“There’s a time setting?”
“I will now do a vocal impression of the junk truck sound that used to roam the alleys buying used appliances.”
It was incredibly unique.
“Ol-d refrig-er-a-tors—washing machines—compu-tersss—we buy househoooold appliances—.”
Hold on.
What am I listening to?
“…….”
Cha Seongbin’s eyes were shaking far more than before.
He thought he was just dealing with Jumong, but apparently this Jumong also drove around a junk truck.
As soon as he pictured that scene, Cha Seongbin quickly covered his mouth.
He had to hold in his laughter.
He really… had to hold it in.
“Pfft…”
“Ahem, that’s quite an unusual talent.”
Even dance trainer Choi Myunghwan failed to maintain a straight face.
It was unnecessarily serious. And surprisingly accurate.
Seohan blinked, swallowing dryly.
“I have one more.”
“Ah… really?”
What is it?
Truthfully, teacher Yoo Minseo started feeling like she should stop him.
“I will now imitate a cicada caught in a net, flipped over, and crying.”
“Wh–what did you say?”
…Maybe you don’t need to do this one?