Episode 40: SSS-Grade
“What’s Sehyuk-ssi doing?”
Seo Yoonje’s question targets Ji Sehyuk.
Why? Because instead of hosting, Ji Sehyuk’s busy eyeing my waist from every angle.
“Haha!”
Laughing awkwardly at Seo Yoonje’s remark, Ji Sehyuk brings the mic to his mouth.
“No, it’s just so fascinating. How does he bring a different stage every time? I was checking for a switch or something… but there’s none.”
His exaggerated antics spark laughter across the studio.
Ji Sehyuk plays the clown willingly, likely because of the honey dripping from his gaze—pride, probably.
That same honey overflows in the judges’ eyes too.
Knowing this, Ji Sehyuk passes the baton.
“Now, let’s hear the judges’ comments on Han Yujin’s incredible performance.”
He hands the clown mask to the judges.
Yoon Ichae eagerly takes it first.
“When the drums went dum-dum and the lights came on, my first thought seeing Han Yujin was…”
She clears her throat, then speaks in a low, solemn tone.
“‘I shall sing for you, so revel in the joy here.’”
Cheers erupt before she finishes.
Ji Sehyuk nods, riding the wave of agreement, and adds,
“That line plays in my head. Yujin-ssi, could you do it for us?”
“‘I’ll sing for you, so let’s have a blast here.’ Like that?”
I tweak the line to match today’s concept, delivering it softly.
The fading cheers reignite fiercely.
“See? When the king commands from his throne like that, how can we stay still? With a stage so perfectly fitting, how can we not go wild? We’ve got to say, ‘Your grace is boundless!’ and party, right?”
““Yes!!!””
Yoon Ichae turns to the audience, and a unified roar answers.
With a look that says, “What more needs to be said?” she sets the mic down.
“I’ll talk about the performance,” Lee Sangwoon takes over.
“To me, Han Yujin’s performance is one of the most shocking I’ve seen in my choreography career. Something you’d expect at a superstar-packed mega-concert or a year-end awards show, not an audition program.”
His calm voice carries praise so intense it feels like irony.
“It’s incredibly smart. A song this grand suits group choreography over solo, like the original. The arrangement is so full there’s no room for empty space. But as Yoon Ichae said, he tosses that energy to the audience, saying, ‘Enjoy it.’ He just gestures, like an orchestra conductor.”
His calm tone quickens.
“Of course, that’s not easy. Creating such impact in a confined space is tough. Take the off-beat footwork in ‘Run! Run!’ or the small gesture of switching the mic hand when the taepyeongso and geomungo shift tempo in ‘This is INVINCIBLE.’ The shoulder moves riding the rhythm—no, Yujin’s term, melody. And that final mic twirl and drop. Each move isn’t special alone, but together, perfectly placed, they drive you crazy.”
By the end, Lee Sangwoon’s spitting with passion, then takes a sip of water to calm himself.
“If those moves were intentional, that’s terrifying. If instinctive, he’s a genius. I’m convinced—Han Yujin knows how to use his body. There’s a dancer in him. Whether he doesn’t know it or is hiding it, I’m not sure. If he doesn’t know, come find me. I’ll teach you.”
His words stir memories of my Starlight days, being molded into an idol.
‘Me, a dancer?’
Pre-regression, around this time, the “Han Yujin has no dance talent” label was fading.
Now, I’m getting this praise from Lee Sangwoon, Korea’s top choreographer.
Life’s worth reliving, indeed.
As I muse, Lee Ahjeong speaks up.
“Building on Lee Sangwoon’s ‘smart’ comment, I’ve never seen anything like this. Maybe in a trot-focused audition, but in a broad pop audition like Blind Singer, I’ve never seen a dance track with taepyeongso, kkwaenggwari, geomungo, and EDM smashed together. Right, Judge Seo Yoonje? Or did I miss something?”
“Hmm, it’s definitely rare,” Seo Yoonje nods.
“Right? No Korean hates a pungmul beat. That ‘joy’ is in our DNA, a cheat code. But today’s ‘Invincible’ doesn’t lean too hard on it. From song choice to instrument placement, it’s a perfect blend of tradition and modernity—truly ‘invincible.’ The study, research, and thought behind it… I can’t even fathom. An incredible stage.”
“Invincible! Han Yujin pulls out another round of praise! Let’s wrap up the comments here—oh, yes! Judge Seo Yoonje!”
As Ji Sehyuk tries to close, Seo Yoonje raises a hand.
“Everyone’s said a lot, so I’ll keep it short. I’m… worried about Han Yujin.”
“Worried?”
“If he delivers a stage like this here, what’s he going to do next?”
The studio falls silent, proof of the impact my ‘Invincible’ had.
But Seo Yoonje smiles and continues.
“But thinking about it being Han Yujin, maybe I’m worrying for nothing. It might sound like pressure, but even in that worry, there’s a blooming expectation. Well done.”
“Yes! Another comment more like a fan review than a critique! Shall we reveal the judges’ scores now?”
Despite Ji Sehyuk’s playful jab, Seo Yoonje just smiles and sets down the mic.
[40] [38] [37] [38] [40] [40]
[Total: 233] [Average: 38.8]
“233 points! Han Yujin breaks his own record from last week, pushing the Blind Singer finals’ highest score to 233!”
Ji Sehyuk’s voice rises to an uncontainable peak.
Amid the fervor, I look only at the one person clapping until their hands might break, and with a thought—
‘Did I do well?’
—I flash a radiant smile.
***
The Next Day
“Wow, what a moment.”
Baek Kyungmin’s exclamation draws a chuckle from me.
Because I swept all metrics and advanced to Round 3?
No.
“A manager for the Han Yujin! A manager!”
Today’s the day my manager arrives.
Nothing grand, though.
“It’s just temporary.”
After flipping two live stages, public transport’s getting tricky.
So, I asked Seo Yoonje to find someone to drive me for the remaining two Blind Singer shoots.
Once the show ends, I’ll sign with MyWay officially, and their staff will take over.
“They’re joining MyWay, so it shouldn’t be anyone weird… but I hope it’s someone decent since they’ll be around you a lot,” Baek Kyungmin says.
I laugh inwardly.
When it comes to managers, one left an unmatched mark.
‘Whoever comes, they won’t measure up to him.’
Always prepared, placing everything I needed before I asked.
Driving with comfort, speed, and precision.
Navigating prickly personalities while maintaining stellar relationships—an ultimate insider.
Having experienced the top-tier manager, no one else could satisfy me.
Honestly, I’d love to kidnap that guy to MyWay right now.
But—
‘He was 23 when he joined Starlight… so 20 now? No way.’
If he’s even got a driver’s license, that’d be a miracle.
‘No point chasing what’s not there.’
It’s about people connecting.
Skill comes second; compatibility with me is what matters.
If we click, I can teach them the job.
If not—
‘I’ll just endure two days. What else can I do?’
I’ll ask for someone else later if needed.
Ding.
As I temper my expectations, a bell at the studio entrance chimes softly.
“They’re here!”
Baek Kyungmin dashes out, and I follow, smiling.
Then—
“Yujin-hyung?”
A youthful voice, as if they know me well, freezes me in place.
“Huh? You know Yujin?”
“Yeah! I’m a huge fan!”
“A fan… alright, let’s start with introductions.”
Amid their exchange—
“Hello! I’m Chae Suhyuk, starting as Polaris’s road manager! Please take care of me!”
A memory of that guy’s first greeting from long ago surfaces.
“Hello! I’m Chae Suhyuk, taking on the role of temporary manager! Please take care of me!”
A new voice overlaps the old memory.
‘Is this… for real?’
With that inescapable thought, an SSS-grade manager just rolled into my life.