Episode 20: Time and Money
As dawn breaks, we arrive at another YTV studio.
Song Jaeryung greets us.
“Congratulations to all 39 contestants advancing to Round 2.”
Thirty-three official qualifiers with four or more passes.
Park Juan, saved by Yoon Ichae’s X-Pass, and five others barely escaping elimination via holdover status.
A total of 39 hidden singers gather under the Blind Singer banner.
“Let’s cut to the chase and talk about Round 2’s format.”
Everyone nods.
Round 2’s shoot is in two weeks.
Unlike the prelims or Round 1, there’s no endless prep time, so they’ve gathered us the very next day.
“Round 2’s format isn’t much different from past seasons: group competition.”
In Blind Singer’s Round 2, contestants compete within groups of 9 to 11.
“The groups were finalized by the judges yesterday. Only up to half of each group can advance to Round 3. If ties push past half, the judges will deliberate to eliminate someone. Even an all-pass can get cut.”
A brutal system for both contestants and the judges who formed the groups.
But that’s exactly why viewers eat it up.
‘Well, thanks to the X-Pass, all-passers rarely get cut.’
The X-Pass, usable only through Round 2, is practically designed for this round.
If a five-pass or four-pass advances in one group while an all-pass gets cut in another, fairness complaints would be inevitable.
“However.”
Of course, they’ve planned for the opposite case too.
The “up to” in “up to half” isn’t just for show.
“Even if you’re in the top half, three passes or fewer means elimination. Keep that in mind.”
If five- or four-passers in one group worry about X-Passes while three- or two-passers advance in another due to the half rule, fairness issues would arise again.
“Season 1’s theme was emotions: joy, anger, sorrow, pleasure. Season 2 was eras: pre-80s, 90s, 2000s, 2010s onward. Both had four groups. This season’s difference? We have five groups.”
Song Jaeryung spreads one hand wide, and everyone swallows hard.
“Five groups… that’s eight per group.”
Someone mutters.
The total qualifiers aren’t much different from past seasons, but the pressure’s heavier.
Fewer competitors per group—down from nine to seven—but who’d take that at face value?
‘These broadcast folks are ruthless.’
More than that, it means one fewer spot to advance to Round 3.
“Now, let’s see the themes.”
Song Jaeryung, the epitome of a broadcast pro, raises her voice brightly despite the heavy mood.
“This season’s Round 2 theme is…!”
As she trails off, light floods the darkened screen behind her.
[Male Solo] [Female Solo]
[Mixed Group]
[Male Group] [Female Group]
The contestants’ reactions are surprisingly calm.
Maybe a bit surprised it’s not just genres?
‘Makes sense.’
Good songs don’t care about gender.
Everyone here has probably adapted a favorite song to their voice at some point.
“Phew… glad it’s not eras…”
Even Taeoh, relieved it’s not era-based, takes it in stride. That says it all.
As if expecting our reaction, the ruthless broadcast pro continues with a smile.
“Before we reveal the group assignments and song lists, a quick clarification. Some things are tricky—like, is a band solo or group? We categorize based on the vocalist. Even for a band, if the song has one vocalist, it’s solo.”
Song Jaeryung preempts any objections, and I quickly run through my thoughts.
‘If I were a judge, where’d I put myself?’
I’d probably slot myself in the mixed group.
How would I handle the inevitable pitch differences between male and female voices?
If it’s a song with back-and-forth lyrics, how would I express that?
That’d pique my curiosity.
‘Honestly, I’d love to try it.’
Truth is, I have.
I’ve sung songs from the other four themes plenty, but never a mixed group song solo on stage.
‘That’s just my perspective, though.’
Would the judges, knowing only my ‘Why’d You Come to My House?’ by ‘Emergency’ and ‘For a Moment’ by ‘EUJN’, think the same?
‘Female solo or female group are solid possibilities too.’
Male solo and male group—obvious choices.
Female solo and female group—familiar enough.
Mixed group—the one I really want to try.
Honestly, the theme doesn’t matter much.
If it’s a song I’ve done before, I’ll make the stage even better.
If it’s new, it’s a chance to enjoy a fresh challenge.
Both have their own thrill, so whether they divide by genre or recycle old themes, it’s all the same to me.
“Now, let’s see who’s in each group! Show the numbers! Oh, and as you know, song selection is first-come, first-served. Better decide fast!”
At Song Jaeryung’s words, numbers pop up under the five themes, and five staff members begin handing out what I assume are song lists to each contestant.
“Uh… I’m in male solo.”
Taeoh’s number 2 sits at the top of the male solo group.
‘They wanted to see you play guitar.’
“Should make arranging easy.”
Probably a strong push from Kim Kwangyong and Seo Yoonje.
‘If it were me, I’d put Taeoh in male solo, maybe female solo at most.’
I confirm Taeoh’s number and then look for mine.
With only three single-digit numbers among Round 2’s qualifiers, including Taeoh and me, it’s easy to spot.
“Hyung… uh… what?”
Taeoh’s eyes dart between the screen and me, his voice dripping with shock despite the mask hiding his expression.
‘Who’s worried about who now?’
I shift my gaze from the retriever worrying about a regressed tiger from another world to Song Jaeryung.
‘She’s grinning?’
Her sly smile, as if daring me to pull this off, locks onto me.
The mask might block our eyes from truly meeting, but I’m certain she’s looking at me.
‘I can guess whose pick this was.’
This has Seo Yoonje’s fingerprints all over it, with AZ, Yoon Ichae, and Sally probably backing him up.
‘Guess I’ll have to pull another surprise.’
But one thought hits me as I scan the numbers:
[Female Group]
[1] [16] [19] [36] [51] [67] [72] [80]
Hey, judges.
I get putting me here, but Kim In, number 80, that pureblood heavy metal rocker? Seriously?
***
Meanwhile, at Café Taleia, a conversation Han Yujin couldn’t have anticipated unfolds.
“What gives them the right to call my guy sexy? Ugh, unbelievable.”
Woo Zia’s hidden jealousy spills out, and Moon Sookhee, the only one privy to it, teases her.
“Zia, I’d usually take your side, but… shouldn’t you tell your boyfriend to stop oozing charm?”
“Yujin doesn’t ooze anything, boss. He’s just naturally sexy.”
Her near-deadpan seriousness is both adorable and exasperating to Moon Sookhee.
“Well, look at your boyfriend, the star.”
“He is! Way too good for me…”
Zia’s hand, wiping a dry cloth, freezes.
‘I just… I was the first to see Yujin’s true worth.’
She feels small compared to her soaring partner.
That’s why she hid her burning jealousy, faking confidence in front of him.
Her murmur is faint, but in the quiet café with just the two of them, Moon Sookhee hears it clearly.
She sees right through Zia’s thoughts.
Moon Sookhee’s been there.
When Seo Yoonje’s songs started blaring from street vendors’ speakers, how painfully her own unaccomplished life compared.
“Too good? You think meeting a girl like you is easy? Yujin’s the lucky one. He used up a lifetime’s worth of luck to find you.”
“Boss?”
Having felt that sting, Moon Sookhee comforts Zia with unusual fervor, startling her.
She knows only one person can truly ease Zia’s insecurities, just as it was for her with Seo Yoonje.
But Moon Sookhee’s reassured.
Even setting aside Yujin’s story of passing up debut for Zia, she’s seen how he looks at her—those intense, glowing eyes shining through his messy hair, making even onlookers smile.
What else could you call that but love?
“I know Yujin sings because of you, and you know it too. Being someone’s driving force is huge. So don’t dwell on it. Think of your parents—they’re probably heartbroken enough seeing you swept up by a performer.”
That last bit comes purely from Moon Sookhee’s own experience.
But—
“Oh…”
Seeing Zia’s subtle expression, Moon Sookhee realizes she’s stepped on a landmine.
“My parents… aren’t around.”
The mine explodes.
“I grew up in a facility.”
“Oh no… no contact at all?”
“I just know… they both passed when I was really young.”
Moon Sookhee winces at Zia’s smile as she shares the painful story.
But only for a moment.
Smack!
She flicks Zia’s forehead.
She may not know much, but she’s certain pitying this girl won’t help.
“Then you can’t mope like this! Your parents must’ve hated leaving their precious daughter behind. How heartbroken would they be seeing you wallow over something like this?”
At the same time, she thinks—
‘That Lee Heekyung woman tried to tear these two apart? Is she even human?’
To Zia, Han Yujin is more than a lover—he’s her only family.
Moon Sookhee finally understands her devotion.
And her own role.
“Ugh, this won’t do. Is Yujin coming today?”
“No… he’s at Blind Singer for the Round 2 theme announcement.”
“Perfect. Zia, come with me.”
A sudden idea strikes, and Moon Sookhee stands, tossing off her apron and grabbing the café keys and car keys from the counter.
“Huh? Where to?”
Zia rises hesitantly, startled, but Moon Sookhee’s eyes are resolute.
“You said you don’t know what to do, right? Just that you’ll work hard for now.”
Exactly.
When Moon Sookhee told Zia to read or study since the café was slow, Zia had said that, as many young people do when they haven’t found their passion.
Moon Sookhee had brushed it off then.
But she was wrong.
Zia’s true desire was simply to dream alongside Han Yujin.
“I held back because meddling in your parents’ absence felt like crossing a line. But I should’ve acted sooner.”
“Boss?!”
“Follow me. I’ll help you find what you want to do. It’s simple—just try everything. Don’t worry. You’ve got time, and I’ve got money. Time and money—that’s all the world needs.”
Moon Sookhee grabs Zia’s wrist, dragging her out, her eyes gleaming with a motherly resolve.