They watch your performance wordlessly, occasionally jotting down notes. When you finish, they take time to discuss with each other, voices hushed, before they pull apart.
They all leave their seats, the instructors continuing to the door. Hyun Bin himself is the only one to stop in front of you, and he nods, though he doesn’t look particularly impressed. “It wasn’t perfect,” he states, as if it should be obvious. “There’s a lot to be done, but we think you can make the improvements needed by working with us in NOVA Entertainment.”
He hands you a manila folder, contract inside, and says nothing more before he walks through the door as well.
standing in front of the panel while they talk about him is decidedly worse than sitting outside the door. it’s like he’s on a pedestal, raw meat just waiting to be torn into and picked apart by nova’s wolves. jinwook catches a whispered word or two, but doesn’t try to read lips. his focus instead zeroes in on the corner of a manila folder that peeks out from beneath the stack of papers in front of hyun bin. he stares at it, gaze blank, imagining a nova contract inside and wondering why his pulse doesn’t race at the thought like it should.
at the sound of chairs pushing back, jinwook’s eyes snap back up to watch hyun bin approach, mystery folder in hand. without the other panelists, the room is dead silent, and hyun bin doesn’t look impressed. jinwook, for a wild split-second, worries that will be no witnesses— before remembering he’s in an audition room, not an action movie.
he holds eye contact with hyun bin and swallows, nodding in understanding after the first comment. it’s true. the performance had been far from perfect, but the statement sounds like it’s setting up for a ‘but’, and jinwook’s heart beats a little faster in anticipation.
sure enough: jinwook hadn’t been perfect, but, hyun bin thinks training with nova would help him get there. jinwook’s eyes widen, stunned, when he is offered the manila folder. it’s funny; this whole time, he’s been mentally preparing to receive that file, but once it’s in his hands, it still takes a moment for its significance to sink in. he takes the folder with both hands, bowing deeply. when jinwook straightens, hyun bin is already on his way out, and he hurriedly calls out after the ceo: “thank you, sir!”
he opens the folder only to confirm its contents, then flips it shut again and clutches it to his chest. the smile grows slowly, eventually splitting his face into a quiet, proud grin. it’s bittersweet, because this isn’t the contract he’s always dreamed of, and maybe nova isn’t right for him at all— but if jinwook could make it here, surely one day he could make it anywhere.
“Good,” is all the man questioning you responds with. He nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer.
Some time passes with the panelists quietly talking amongst themselves once again before Hyun Bin himself finally speaks up. “Then let’s see you prove it. There’s a new demo we’ve been wanting to test out, anyway. If you would, go with two of the instructors here for an hour. They’ll teach you everything you need to know. Once your time is up, you’ll come back here to perform what you learned.”
The man that led you back into the room– a dance instructor –and a female vocal instructor on the panel stand up from their seats. They lead you to a practice room where they play a minute of the song for you. They proceed to teach you the lyrics and simple dance moves that go along with it.
They aren’t very personable, instead, highly focused and intentional in correcting every mistake you make with both the melody and the choreography. After an hour passes, they lead you back to the audition room where a chair already awaits for your performance. They take their seats, all eyes on you.
jinwook should have seen this coming. “are you prepared to perform under all circumstances, and do your best with anything you’re given?” all they were looking for was an affirmative so they could move on—he could have just said yes, but instead of seeing the question for the perfectly obvious, logical setup it was, jinwook went on and on and on to the panel about his dreams and life story. there isn’t any time to feel embarrassed or remorseful (he should have seen this coming), because hyun bin’s sudden instructions shock him to the core. jinwook chews at his lower lip and does his best not to show it, only nodding along as he is not given much room to answer or ask questions.
as he numbly follows the instructors out of the room, he tries not to panic — he is only given one hour to prepare, but surely a nova demo will require both complex choreography and decent vocals. jinwook doesn’t want to think about how much time he had to invest in learning the simple moves of after school’s ah!, never mind the choreography to a song that could one day be myname’s. does nova always make their potential trainees do this? he hasn’t heard of anyone else who was given such a sudden challenge in a company audition — and won’t baekhyun be worried if jinwook doesn’t get in touch for another whole hour? mind spinning, jinwook thinks of his little sister minseo. she would probably thrive under this sort of challenge. she’d probably think it was fun or something, but jinwook mostly feels like giving up, and he hasn’t even heard the song yet.
by the time they reach the practice room, jinwook’s filled to the brim with an anxiety he hasn’t felt in ages. it’s unfamiliar, unpleasant, and nothing like typical pre-performance nerves. for a moment, he wonders if he’s cut out for this at all, but that particular doubt is quickly dismissed. only the panel can decide that, and they won’t know unless jinwook gives this his best shot.
nova private audition part two: just go with it!
▻ teen top nova demo — don’t drink (2:22–3:22)
it’s one of the most uncomfortable hours of his life, a sixty-minute-long anxiety attack bubbling steadily beneath his skin. gradually, the numbness wears away as jinwook begins to feel like himself again.
( it’s no thanks to his instructors, who are generally unresponsive to jinwook’s many attempts to lighten the mood. jinwook isn’t sure if nova is putting their best foot forward here, or if there is some weird intimidation tactic going on. if that’s the case, it’s working: the instructors are skilled and efficient, but relentless in their criticisms. jinwook has to remind himself that it’s probably like this everywhere, and that he’d only gotten lucky with training under two of the kindest coaches in the mgas. )
the biggest calming factor is the song. it’s nothing like myname’s last comeback, and maybe jinwook had jumped the gun on assuming it’d be a demo meant for myname at all. it’s lighthearted, not intense. best of all, there are only about twenty seconds of legitimate choreography in his assigned performance cut. he laughs out loud when he watches the instructor perform it for the first time, shoulders visibly relaxing. jinwook might not be able to pull off complexity, but he can pull off silliness — though really, it’s just two different ways of embarrassing himself in the end.
jinwook elects to start with the dance instructor, assuming he will absorb some of the melody and lyrics as they work. if he can get through these sixty minutes alive, he thinks, maybe he’ll even start taking classes at that dance studio in myeongdong. imagine that- kim jinwook turning himself into a competent dancer. he doesn’t have high hopes, but twenty seconds is a start.
it takes over half an hour of instruction before jinwook can remember the choreography, constantly made aware of a stark contrast between the playfulness of the moves and the tension in the practice room. he’d be lying if he claimed the atmosphere wasn’t discouraging, every tiny mistake pointed out with hardly a hint of praise.
he’d had no problem quitting on baekhyun’s impromptu girl group dance lessons, since he faced no judgement for it. this is different. there are eyes watching his every move. it would be humiliating to walk away now, especially after making such a big deal of committing to do his best, no matter what he’s given.
( and with this performance choice, jinwook was given a gift, so he does his best to appreciate it. )
even with the head start that comes from hearing the song on repeat for thirty minutes, the singing instruction eats up another fifteen minutes before the woman deems his vocal performance competent. this leaves barely enough time to put the song and dance together, which of course proves the most stressful task yet. jinwook struggles to count the beats of choreography without losing track of his lyrics, critiques coming from both instructors this time.
it’s frustrating, since he can play music and sing at the same time, so it shouldn’t be this difficult to use his body and sing at the same time. he supposes the only difference lies in years of practice versus thirty minutes of it, but knowing this doesn’t help him compensate for it. the last fifteen minutes fly by — that’s what happens when you’re having fun, right? — but miraculously, he kinda pulls it together in the end?
before jinwook knows it, and before he feels prepared at all, he’s back in front of hyun bin’s panel. he sits in the chair, smiling nervously at the panel as he waits for his music cue. when it comes, everything begins to fall into place. as he crosses his legs and props a hand beneath his chin, jinwook probably looks like he’s thinking a little too hard about the next moves, not quite selling the relaxed pose. still, it’s one of his better run-throughs.
술 마시지마
짧은 치마도 파인 옷도 싫어
넌 내 여자니까
다른 남자가 널 쳐다볼 때면
묻지도 않았는데
남자친구 있다 말해
the worst of the choreography ends and jinwook is left bouncing in his seat, swinging his arms to the rhythm. luckily, the second section is only a repeat of the same chorus. jinwook has no problems remembering the lyrics, and with the simpler dance moves, the second half of the performance is easier overall.
술 마시지마
짧은 치마도 파인 옷도 싫어
넌 내 여자니까
다른 남자가 널 쳐다볼 때면
묻지도 않았는데
남자친구 있다 말해
jinwook stands from the chair, immediately picking up the la la las as the chorus ends. he hadn’t been sure about how to handle the overlapping vocals where the song is designed for a group performance. even with clarification from the vocal instructor, he’s a little breathless in the transitions, but it’s doable.
this part is mostly about performing anyway, which is something jinwook is usually capable of, not matter how high the pressure. he skips around his seat with exaggerated movements, keeping up the playful act despite the panel’s intimidating lack of reaction — despite his racing, throbbing pulse.
la la la la, la la la la
upon his return to “center stage” in front of the chair, jinwook is all smiles. it’s a good thing he is used to being shameless in front of others, because this would be even more embarrassing otherwise. he puts his hands up, waving them side to side as if he is leading his audience to do the same. it’s oddly reminiscent of his initial audition song from an hour ago, performing for a dead crowd and smiling along like everything is just fine.
la la la la, la la la la
finally, jinwook presses a hand to his chest and sings the last line from the heart. he intends to act solemn, but the smile comes naturally this time, a bit of tension finally leaving his chest. the relief that he’d made it through the entire minute without any fatal errors is clear on his face.
남자친구 꼭 있다 말해
it wasn’t perfect, but he doubts they were looking for perfect. it was only his best effort.
it’s kind of funny that he had walked into this audition without any expectations of receiving a contract. if this was some convoluted, reverse-psychologic thing to trick him into being more emotionally invested, it was extremely effective. after all of it, jinwook almost feels deserving of something to show for the extra effort (for the extra torture). entitlement is a dangerous feeling, though, and he quickly humbles himself with a bow. then he straightens, exhales, and waits for their reactions with hands clasped tightly in front of him.
They give you time to speak, nodding as you finish.
“There’s no doubt you’re a good dancer,” the same instructor that questioned you admits. “We just hope you can be consistent in the feeling you give off when you dance. We know auditions are nerve-wracking, but performing in front of audiences as an idol is as well, and you can’t let your nerves show. Understood?”
There’s a pause for the words to sink in before Baek Jiyoung herself begins speaking. “The good thing is, there’s plenty of time to work on your nerves. Being willing to improve, even in an area you’re strong in, is an asset as well. We think you’ll be able to achieve that improvement in Sphere.”
They all get up from their chairs, the coaches continuing on to the door. Baek Jiyoung, however, stops in front of you and hands you your contract in an envelope for its protection. “This is your contract, so take good care of it. If you have any questions, the receptionist can help you out.”
She flashes a smile before she sees herself out.
Sehun can feel the slight blush crawling its way up to his cheeks when the same instructor mentions about how nerve-wracking every performance can be. He can only think of how nervous he had been at the start of his performance, and how embarrassed he is now that he knows they had most probably seen the way he shook on his feet before he finally found his ground to stable himself. Nonetheless, he nods his head with a shy smile, keeping in mind the little reminders they were giving him.
They had stood up from their seats then and walked towards the door. Sehun takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, closing his eyes briefly in order to relax himself. This is it he thinks, they’re going to say no. It’s a heartbreaking thought, but he guesses there’s always a next time. What he doesn’t expect when he opened his eyes again is seeing the CEO walking towards him and handing him the envelope. His jaw almost dropped right then and there but he caught himself just in time before he made a complete fool of himself, numbly taking an envelope.
To say he was speechless was a complete understatement. His brain turned to dust, probably, as he stood there motionless, too stunned to do anything else. It was the smile from the Baek Jiyoung that pulled him out of his stuppor and he’s practically stumbling over himself to make a proper 90-degree bow. “T-thank you so much–” thank you for the chance was what he wanted to say, but his mind was in too much of a jumbled mess to be coherent.
Oh my god… he holds the envelope tighter as if he was afraid everything was only a dream.
Baek Jiyoung nods as you speak once again, just as attentive as before, and her expression softens as you go on. She laughs as well.
“Have you listened to Royal Pirates much? They’re quite good, if I do say so myself,” she comments good-naturedly.
“I think it makes sense. NOVA could’ve taught you a lot, both in your singing and your dancing, but all companies are different. Where to pursue your dream is a big decision. Sometimes it’s best to follow your gut in situations like these. Personally, I’m happy with how things have worked out,” she says, and she smiles at you before reaching for a file folder tucked underneath the cookies on the table.
She extends it toward you. “If you’re ready, I’d like you to join Sphere Entertainment.”
her shoulders raise slightly towards her ears as she giggles again. because she was on team nova during the mgas, she didn’t get to speak to baek jiyoung much, but whenever she had the chance to, she always felt like the way she does now. the way the elder listens so attentively– even responding to her in an equally playful manner– makes mijoo feel like a little girl again, telling her mom or her teacher about her day. thinking about it now, perhaps that’s where her pull toward sphere had already begun, without her even realizing.
with curiosity, her eyes follow the ceo’s movements, gaze naturally falling to the folder she reaches for underneath the plate of cookies. whoa. has that been there this whole time?
she stares at the folder being held out to her for a moment before raising her gaze, up towards baek jiyoung’s smiling face. carefully, she reaches to take the folder with both hands, with utmost care. keeping her eyes on the elder, she lets her hands drop into her lap before smiling.
“thank you so much,” she tells the elder, catching her lower lip between her teeth. “for giving me another chance… or… i mean… for listening to me?” oh, lord. she probably sounds like a mess. “for letting me explain myself. you didn’t have to, but you did and… i really… really appreciate it.” she nods to herself as the words leave her, swallowing a small lump in her throat. she then bows deeply, keeping that position for a little while before coming back up. “i promise i won’t let you down. thank you.”
So Jisub and both instructors pay careful attention as you demonstrate what you learned, alternating between watching and jotting down notes.
Once you finish, they show each other their notes, whisper, and exchange nods.
“You did well–” the rap instructor praises you, then chuckles. “–learning, at least. Your rap itself could use some work, but the good thing is, I saw you improve within the hour I worked with you. You asked for help when you needed it, and you listened.”
“You did better than I expected,” the vocal instructor agrees, albeit begrudgingly, and there’s a hint of a close-lipped smile on So Jisub’s face even before he dips his head to dismiss the two instructors.
From within the pages of his notebook, he reveals a manila envelope containing a contract. “I’d like for you to continue learning under Royal Entertainment. If you’d like that as well, you’ll want to sign this.”
He hands the envelope to you, and then takes his leave.
anticipation weighs on his mind as he waits for them to say something. hushed whispers and secret glances cause him to overthink, heart pounding, mouth dry. yet, there’s a nagging feeling inside that tells him not to be such a downer. that speck of hope is answered when they open their mouth to tell him how he’s done.
and he did good.
bowing towards the experts, he mutters a thank you. a smile blooms on his face and he’s hit by an emotional wave, lips quickly parting into soft laughter. he can’t believe that they’ve decided to take him in. not after their little comments about his lack of skill and all. it seems so surreal and he only comes to the realisation when an envelope is handed over. opening it, he finds his contract and a few more details on being signed under royal.
“thank you,” he utters one more time, “it’ll be my pleasure to continue learning under royal.”
The staff members listen patiently as you explain yourself, nodding along. They all look to So Jisub expectantly, and he mutters what might be, “I’ll take it from here,” before the rest of the panel see themselves out.
So Jisub gathers up his notes on the table before approaching you. “I can tell you’ve grown in more than just your talent since we saw you last,” he assures you, and he hands you a manila envelope containing your contract. Now, he smiles softly. “You still have some more growing to do, but we all do, really. Royal Entertainment will help you with that as long as what you said today is true.”
He takes a few steps away from you before he pauses in his tracks, looks over his shoulder one last time, and calls, “Welcome to Royal Entertainment.”
the expectation mirrors in baekhyun’s eyes as he watches the members of the panel, as his own gaze falls onto the ceo as well and for some reason he’s so full of hope, so full of anticipation as the man speaks up, when the other staff members slowly get up from their seats to leave their room, to leave them alone.
baekhyun feels his entire body trembling.
he almost forgets to move when the staff walks past him, but he bows hurriedly in front of them as he feels his face grow a little hot, bending his body low as he dips himself down a couple of more times, to show his gratitude, to thank them for their time. and when he straightens his back again, trying to look as composed as possible, returning his attention back to so jisub.
his breath still hitches as he approaches him, stuck in his throat, because he’s so nervous, because he’s so scared.
but, somehow, he still has a good feeling at the same time, actually, he has a pretty good feeling; it will work, it was worth it.
baekhyun knows it.
and when he notices the envelope in his hands it takes his everything not to start screaming right on the spot.
ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod.
he nods slightly and this time he can’t hide the smile that spreads across his face, tugging so strongly at the corners of his lips and he probably shines brighter than the sun outside right now. “thank you”, he says, almost a little too quiet in comparison of his expression – he feels so incredibly honored, hearing those words from so jisub’s mouth; hell, he just feels lucky that he’s able to bathe in his presence and to speak to him again.
his hands reach out, hands almost cupped together as he takes the envelope, bowing only so slightly in respect. his fingers immediately wrap around the paper, clutching it almost too tight as it crinkles a little, but baekhyun hardly notices that, his eyes still glued at so jisub as he nods eagerly. “i won’t disappoint you, sir. i will give only my best for the company.” his words become a little more mumbled as he goes on, bowing again as the ceo walks past him.
only looking back up when he hears his voice again and he curiously looks at him, eyes filled with happiness as he almost sheepishly casts his eyes away for a moment, one hand coming up to rub along his neck in a shy manner. “t-thank you so much—“ and then he’s already bowing again, mumbling another ‘thank you’.
and only when the door falls shut noisily, baekhyun stops, just standing there almost as if frozen in place, staring at the exit, envelope still in his hands.
it’s sudden when he jumps into the air, hands trashing around him as he literally skips around the room, screaming and shouting in glee, ignoring skillfully how his loud voice echoes in the spacious room.
he did it! he did it! he fucking did it!
baekhyun stops again, already a little out of breath.
he can’t believe it. he did it.
he’s the newest flower in royal entertainment’s garden and he just can’t believe it.
his legs finally give in, weak from all the anxiety he’s been through today and he sinks onto the floor with a huff, still laughing to himself as he clutches the envelope close to his chest, fingers grabbing at the fabric of his button-up.
he did it. he did it. he actually did it.
and if baekhyun’s completely honest with himself, kt entertainment will forever be his dream company, a part of him will always want to join them;
– but royal is where he belongs, this is the place he instantly felt at home and he can’t be more happy.
“Good, because plenty of trainees here have the looks, but our investment in them– in you –paying off depends on your ability to learn,” the male instructor beside So Jisub says after your response. “So we’re going to test that now. We saw you dance. Now, we want to see how you pick up a song we teach you. I’m a rap instructor–”
The female instructor interrupts, then, “and I’m a vocal instructor. Based on what you’re more comfortable with, choose one of us, and we’ll work with you on a rap or some vocal work we’ve already prepared to see how much you pick up in an hour. After time is up, you’ll come back here and perform it.”
After you choose an instructor, they lead you out of the first room and into a practice room down the hall. The excerpt you learn is from a song you’ve never heard before, but it’s only a minute long. The instructor is helpful, but they don’t waste time, and you can tell this isn’t just an assessment of your final performance, but how you act throughout the entire process. After the time is up, you and the instructor return to the audition room, and it’s time to show what you’ve learned.
what? he almost blurts out a question, the question of why brimming on his lips, only seconds away from falling. why does he have to go through all this? why does he have to prove himself further after his audition? just why exactly are they expecting so much out of him when they know he’ll be lacking anyways? it all puzzles him, but at the same time he’s glad that they’re still giving him a chance.
“i’ll rap.” his resolve is eternal, but his insides are squirming. what if at the end of the day they decide that he’s not good enough after all and throw him aside from the long list of hopefuls waiting? the last thing he wants to do is to displease people with what he does, and there’s a high chance they will be even more disappointed in his rapping. yet, he can’t seem to bring himself to quit and excuse himself. instead, he finds a fiery flame inside him that fuels him to go to greater lengths and break all the stereotypes of being a merely handsome boy.
following the instructor, he receives the song willingly. thanking the older male for helping him, the dancer starts to play the song and pulls up the lyrics. it doesn’t seem to long, and the beat isn’t too complicated. some of the words are a bit tricky to pronounce though, and he wonders if his voice tone will fit the rap in general.
warming up his throat, he plays the song a couple more times, reading the lyrics as it goes. by the time he finishes memorizing the lyrics, almost 10 minutes has passed. taking a deep breath, he attempts to rap for the first time. before he can even get to the second verse, he finds his speech messy and his timing off. glancing at the coach, he wonders whether or not he should go and ask for help this early into the trial. there’s only so much time if he wants to perform to impress though, and matters of pride should be excused for the time being.
“excuse me, should i do this part like this, or like this?” discussing with the instructor, he learns a lot from his mistakes and the examples the older gives him. attentively listening, he jots down a few notes and circles a few parts that should be emphasized. part of performing is getting into character and connecting with the audience. if he’s got that down, he’s already gone through 50 percent.
an hour is spent, and he finally has to face judgement. walking into the same room he was in earlier, the 20-year old bows again to greet the three judges. “thank you for having me again.” they start without wasting time, immediately telling him to showcase what he’s picked up.
“Yeah baby girl 널 놓친 건…” starting it off slowly, he gets into character and blends his emotions into the lyrics. carrying on with the first verse, he looks at the panel with unwavering confidence. a song about pain and rejection, the lyrics resonate with his current condition and the emotions naturally flow out. each syllable is pronounced as clear as possible, making sure that it’s strong yet not too much to make it seem like he’s a try-hard.
난 또 감각을 잃고
고통의 안개 속 시력을 잃고
Nobody knows nobody knows
getting louder and braver, he starts to dwell deeper into the persona he has made for this specific song. his speech is a bit unclear at some parts, but he glosses over it as best as he can, making sure they can see through his faults and see that his imperfections only construct a fitting ambiance.
잊은 채로 묶인 채로
절망의 끝에 서있어
삭막한 이 사막 속
finishing it off, he breathes slowly for a while. closing his eyes momentarily, he then bows towards the people watching him. he’s tried his best, he thinks, and what happens next is not in his control. the only thing he can do is to hope, wish that they can see his potential, and acknowledge that he’s not that slow of a learner after all.
Following your audition, those that watched it converse, sharing their notes and comments with each other with voices too soft for you to overhear. After a few minutes of discussion, they return to their former places and turn their attention back to you.
It’s a younger female instructor that finally addresses you. “Thank you for your performance, Sehun-ssi. As you can tell, we had quite a bit to say about it when we talked about you just now, but I’m curious; how do you feel about that performance?”
If he had been nervous moments before he entered the room, then he doesn’t have the right words to express the way he’s feeling as he watched them converse with each other. Their voices were too soft for him to make out anything at all. Sehun shuffles uncomfortably on his feet, resisting the urge to bite on his nail in anticipation and nervousness (and because it’s a horrid habit, they said) with more than a hundred things running in his mind. It felt like forever before they seemed to have reached a kind of decision and returned to their seats, but the question was the least of his expectations.
Even the way the instructor had spoken gave nothing away. The nervousness only grows. At some point he had expected a rejection, half-heartedly preparing himself for it even, so to say he was taken by surprise was definitely an understatement. Nonetheless, he gives it a thought, going back through his performance to reassess himself.
Was he happy with how it all turned out? In some way, yes, he was. It went better than he had expected. Sehun knew he had given the performance his all, probably a little more than he usually did when he’s performing onstage, the importance of such an audition piece tattooed in his mind the whole time. There was also the reason why he chose hip-hop, his strongest genre. But the question of being satisfied of his performance today made him pause. There were a lot of rooms for improvement, that’s for sure, but was it safe to be honest in front of the instructors? He knew his answer here would either get him a spot to be a trainee or would tell them he isn’t ready to be in the industry. The thought is terrifying, and the unreadable look on the instructors’ eyes wasn’t helping him one bit.
“I’m happy with my performance,” Sehun starts, slowly piecing his thoughts together so he doesn’t stutter pathetically. He holds his hands together in front of him to prevent them from visibly shaking. “But I must admit, there are still a lot room for improvements, even if it was my strongest area.” He had done good, but he could’ve done much better, probably needs more imrpovement on areas he knew he wasn’t as good at yet, and he’s only talking about his dancing. What more on rapping and singing?
