Chapter 6: Level Test (1)

　　True to its massive scale as a project with ninety-nine participants, Pick Your Fantasy boasted nearly thirty minutes of screen time dedicated solely to the trainees’ entrance scenes.

　　Of course, plenty of guys still ended up on the cutting room floor, and in my past life, I had been one of them. Individual trainee Park Seowoon’s screen time in the first episode, including both his entrance and reaction shots, had clocked in at a dismal ten seconds. That was it.

　　"Huh? Wait, are we the first ones here?"

　　"Yeah, there’s no one else around."

　　But perhaps my fate was different this time, because Kim Hayoung, Moon Jaejun, and I ended up being the very first to step onto the set. This was definitive good news. Production couldn’t edit out the scene of the studio doors opening for the first time, even if they wanted to. No matter what, the three of us would make an impression in the premiere.

　　"Whoa. Guys, look at this place. There are so many cameras."

　　"Look up there. The lighting rigs are massive."

　　Hayoung and Jaejun scurried around like country bumpkins fresh in the big city, pointing at everything in sight. Since I had already seen this set to the point of nausea, the novelty was completely lost on me. If anything, it was more surreal that everything looked exactly the same as I remembered.

　　I humored their excited chatter while slowly scanning the numbers painted onto the studio’s tiered seating.

　　The massive golden sofa enthroned in the center bore the number one, while the plush chairs circling it were numbered two through nine. Below them sat ninety rainbow-colored plastic chairs. Ten through ninety-nine.

　　"I guess these are the rankings," Jaejun muttered.

　　"Yeah. Staff said we’re supposed to sit in the rank we think we deserve…"

　　It was a setup that had already played out in the previous season of Pick Your Fantasy, the girl group survival show, Pick Your Idol. The infamous "Battle for the Golden Chair."

　　Anyone desperate for screen time would gun for that golden sofa, but to claim it, a trainee had to prove their worth. Since participants could challenge the current occupant and steal their spot, the golden chair acted as a makeshift championship belt.

　　If a genuinely talented guy sat there, it was the perfect opportunity to flex his skills and project confidence. But if a talentless hack like me took it, it was just begging for public humiliation.

　　"Jaejun, where are you sitting?"

　　"What about you?"

　　"I’ll sit right here. First place is a little too much pressure."

　　"What the hell? That’s lower than I thought. If you sit there, where am I supposed to go?"

　　Jaejun settled into the number two seat, while Hayoung claimed number nine. Once they were comfortable, the two of them turned their eager attention to me.

　　"Why don’t you take the number one seat, Kanghyun?" Hayoung asked.

　　"I know you’re just trying to live vicariously through him," Jaejun retorted, before warning me. "Don’t fall for it, man."

　　I know damn well that’s a trap. Why the hell would I walk into it?

　　If I had returned here in Park Seowoon’s body, I might have actually taken the risk. But right now, I was Lee Kanghyun. Because this guy’s resting face naturally gave off an arrogant vibe, I had to be twice as careful with my behavior.

　　Coveting the golden chair when I’d only had a single day to prep for the level test? If I wasn’t careful, I’d become the show’s number-one villain by the end of the premiere.

　　"You guys stay here. I’m going to head further down."

　　My target today was at the absolute bottom. The black chair, ninety-ninth place.

　　As I walked away, the younger guys let out bewildered protests, but I ignored them. We couldn’t stick together forever, and from this point on, it was every man for himself anyway.

　　Plus, from monitoring audience reactions in my past life, I knew that sticking too closely to my agency-mates wasn’t a great strategy. I didn’t entirely understand the psychology behind it, but viewers sometimes resented obvious cliques.

　　"Duuude. You can’t just abandon us like that."

　　"Yeah. Why are you going all the way over there?"

　　They stamped their feet in disappointment, but that was all they could do. A strict rule dictated that once your ass hit a seat, you couldn’t get back up. Unless a challenger arrived to steal their spots, Jaejun and Hayoung were locked into second and ninth place.

　　"I’ll see you guys later," I said with a wave. "Catch you during the performances."

　　I quietly settled into the black chair. It looked a bit pathetic compared to the vibrant colors of the higher ranks, but I actually preferred it this way. Maybe it was because the plastic matched my outfit, but it gave me an inexplicable sense of comfort.

　　Moments later, the massive LED screen at the front of the stage flared to life.

　　"Oh, looks like the other agencies are coming out," Hayoung muttered from afar.

　　Hearing him, I gasped as a vital detail I had entirely missed suddenly struck me.

　　My original body. The existence of Park Seowoon.

　　It should have been my absolute first concern the second I woke up in Lee Kanghyun’s body. But between the shock of transmigration and the panic of impending filming, it hadn’t even crossed my mind until this exact moment.

　　Where the hell was my body? Who was inside it? If I had hijacked Lee Kanghyun’s life, had Lee Kanghyun’s soul been shoved into Park Seowoon’s body? If so, was he looking for me, too?

　　I certainly hadn’t caused the body swap on purpose, but if he tracked me down, grabbed me by the collar, and demanded his life back, what was I supposed to do?

　　A million questions raced through my head, none with an answer. All I could do right now was wait. At least until the individual trainee, "Park Seowoon," made his entrance.

　　I needed to keep it together. The independent trainees were always scheduled to appear toward the very end of the lineup anyway.

　　I steadied my nerves with slow, measured breaths while the graphics on the electronic display finally settled into a single, glowing logo.

　　[MOSTY ENTERTAINMENT]

　　Mosty. It was an agency famous for cultivating actors rather than idols. Thanks to that pedigree, their trainees were generally stunning.

　　The oldest of the group, Nam Woosung, was especially popular, so much so that he was widely considered one of the top three "visuals" of Pick Your Fantasy, right alongside Sung Yijun and Lee Kanghyun.

　　"Wow, he’s seriously good-looking."

　　"Is he a model? He has to be a model."

　　Hayoung and Jaejun gasped in genuine awe as the four boys walked out. I already knew all their faces, but I couldn’t just sit there looking bored, so I clapped along to match the mood.

　　Nam Woosung led the pack, his three juniors trailing closely behind.

　　"Hello," they greeted the room.

　　"Oh, I guess we’re here early."

　　The four of them scanned the tiered seating, taking in the numbered chairs.

　　"You should take the number one seat, man."

　　"What? No way. I’m sitting somewhere else."

　　"Then I’ll take it."

　　The guy who quickly plopped his ass down on the golden sofa was Jung Minhwan. He was a contestant who would initially receive a massive wave of popularity for his towering height and striking, warm features—but that was all he had going for him. Thanks to a terrible work ethic and a habit of speaking without thinking, his rank would plummet until he was eliminated during the second elimination round.

　　The memory of the sheer hell he’d put his teammates through was still fresh in my mind. Praying to whatever higher power would listen that I wouldn’t end up grouped with him, I forced a polite smile.

　　Knowing exactly who would debut and who would get cut, acting out these "first impressions" all over again was making my facial muscles cramp. And there were still ninety-two trainees left to go. It was going to be a long, long day.

　　[READY-ONE COMPANY]

　　[AUTUMN NIGHT ENTERTAINMENT]

　　[W1RE MUSIC]

　　From heavy-hitting labels to boutique agencies I was hearing of for the first time in my life, a tidal wave of names flooded the screen. It made me wonder if South Korea really had this many entertainment companies. The sheer volume of participants was staggering.

　　Watching a continuous stream of familiar-yet-unfamiliar faces, welcoming a few guys I hadn’t seen in years, and grimacing internally at a few I would have rather avoided, time actually passed quite quickly. As the ninety-nine chairs filled up one by one, finding an empty seat became increasingly difficult.

　　[MIRACLE]

　　Finally, his turn had arrived.

　　"Miracle? Isn’t that…"

　　"Yeah, I think I know who’s coming out."

　　"Isn’t that his agency?"

　　Him. Sung Yijun.

　　It was insane that he commanded this kind of reaction when he was technically still just a trainee. Just seeing the name of his agency was enough to set the entire studio buzzing.

　　"Wow…"

　　Stepping onto the stage to the sound of someone’s heartfelt gasp, Sung Yijun offered a deep, respectful bow to the seated trainees before making his way to the center. Even the way he walked was elegant and graceful.

　　Given the distance between us, his perfectly proportioned physique caught my eye first. He stood at a towering 6’2", with fine, sculpted facial features. His shoulders were broad and structured, his waist trim, and his legs were almost absurdly long.

　　"That’s insane. If he ever robbed the Louvre, he could literally just stand still and blend in with the statues." A playful whisper drifted from the row behind me, drawing a ripple of quiet chuckles. I couldn’t even bring myself to smile. I was too busy staring at Sung Yijun, completely mesmerized.

　　His eyes, nose, and lips. There wasn’t a single feature on his face that was anything less than breathtaking. His eyes sparkled like polished amber, and his skin was so clear, glowing, and flawless that it looked as though it had never been touched by the sun.

　　His cheeks carried a natural, faint flush of pink, and his lips curved upward in a gentle, welcoming smile. Even the light brown strands of his hair seemed to flutter gracefully with every slight tilt of his head.