As soon as the casting notice is posted on the morning of the 20th, the news spreads like wildfire around the company. The whispers of “Baek Jiyoung CEO is debuting a new group!” spreads from one person to another, trainees and coaches alike, until there’s barely a soul who hasn’t heard what Sphere Entertainment plans to do before lunch break ends. Rumors abound about the concept, quickly exaggerated and easily argued over, until Park Heungsoo, one of the company’s vocal coaches, calls for attention in the middle of the bustling cafeteria. Once the room is quiet, he informs the group that all male trainees are to be called out by their trainers individually beginning after the lunch period. “Attendance for these meetings are mandatory,” he emphasizes loudly. “As they concern your future with the company, I advise you not to be late.”
True to the vocal trainer’s words, one of Sphere’s rap coaches, Kim Seungwook, calls you to his office several hours later. Seated behind his desk, Seungwook greets you by name when you arrive and offers up a sly smile. “As you might’ve already heard, our charming CEO intends to put together a new idol group. Luckily for you, you’ve already caught her eye as a possible member for it.” The trainer reaches for a paper on his desk which happens to be your company profile. He reads over the listed information with a critical eye before switching his attention back to you. “My question to you, Seungcheol, is whether you’re interested in this opportunity and, if you are, where it is that you see yourself positioned in this group. Main rapper? Or perhaps as a lead vocalist, or even as a dancer? Maybe even the leader?” He places the paper aside, staring at you intently. “If you are interested in being in this group, know that I will immediately arrange to place you in a special training regimen to prepare you for the demands of this group. This may mean dancing lessons if you are lacking in that, or even rap lessons if I also want you to improve in that area.” Leaning back against his chair, Seungwook nods towards the door. “Think over this proposition carefully and get back to me with an answer by the end of the week. You may go.”
it’s almost comical how quickly a fresh can of worms opens as he leaves his meeting with coach kim. what had started as a simple ‘are you interested in debuting?’ had spiralled into a catastrophic mess of self-doubt and uncertainty within seconds, and whilst seungcheol likes to hope this is just him, just him and his usual insecurities, he knows better that almost every sphere trainee will be wondering the same thing — am I ready?
there are a lot of things he needs to ask himself over the next few days, and he does, solely himself, because even though he desperately wants to ask for others’ opinions, he knows that the ones that matter are only going to say it’s his decision to make; that he should follow his heart and not someone else’s. that’d been one of his many fatal flaws for years, hadn’t it? always putting others’ opinions over his own— never stopping others’ amusement at his fears in high school despite how it would upset him, always believing he had to earn his place at sphere in the eyes of others despite knowing deep down that he wouldn’t have it if he didn’t deserve it.
and he knows there’ll be a lot of sacrifices to make. he won’t have as much time to spend with his friends outside of the group or his parents. he won’t have as much time at all, really, and he can kiss his monthly youtube commitment goodbye. he’ll have to do things he’s nervous about or that he doesn’t find as much interest in like commercials and photoshoots ( again, the words ‘visual hole’ echo in his mind, but he pushes them away; they’re not a concern just yet ), but does any of it feel like enough to turn his back on this incredible opportunity? does it really matter regardless, knowing that whether he debuts now or later, he’ll still have to forfeit the same predebut perks no matter what?
the second umbrella question he asks himself is whether or not he deserves it. in an ideal world, he’d say yes. he’d confidently nod his head thinking back over the past eleven months since he signed the contract and say yes, I’ve worked hard. but instead he thinks of the people who have been here longer, the people who have grown far more than he has even in the same or shorter time, and he pales. his fingers shake against his thighs in the cold darkness of his room at 1am, because even though he got home just over two hours ago and he has to get back up in a few more hours for another day of training, wondering, he can’t sleep — only think. think about the future, his future and whether or not he deserves to live it now— at all.
his thumbs hover over jihoon’s contact, waiting to hit call and let the tears flow out to a score of the younger’s soothing voice but seungcheol remembers he’s a trainee, too. he has to get up early, too, and he has to make this decision, too. and he feels selfish, for thinking that he’s the only one struggling at the moment, when it’s obvious the impact the announcement has made on the atmosphere at the seocho building— the impact it will continue to make on everyone’s lives, whether they go for it or not. ‘debut’ is a word many of their trainees have been waiting to hear for years and he thinks, I don’t deserve it as much as them, yet I’ve been given this chance regardless, and he realises it’s not his decision to make if he’s worthy of this opportunity; it’s baek jiyoung’s, and she thinks he’s got something ( even if he doesn’t know what it is ) and who is he to argue? perhaps she had seen this potential in him from the start. perhaps that’s why she had signed him against the better judgement of her peers at his audition. perhaps he should stop worrying about whether or not he should’ve been given this opportunity and instead be grateful that he has been.
a better question, the ultimate question, is really whether or not he wants this now — if he’s ready not only for the trials of being an idol but also in terms of growth. still, baek jiyoung having her ‘eye’ on him as a ‘potential member’ spills over into this, too. if she believes in him, why can’t he believe in himself? does he really think he’s ready for this— to fight against antis, to allow his entire life to be scrutinised under a microscope ( not to mention every move he makes after they go public, for the rest of his life ). he has no doubt that he will have to be ready for all of this in order to debut, but the question is now? is he ready now?
( he thinks so, at least on some level. he thinks that’s probably included somewhere in the special training; that he’s probably going to develop a thicker skin as he’s pushed past his limits to prepare himself for the defining moment of the rest of his life. if he doesn’t, he’ll be surprised. )
but really, the question that stumps him the most, once he’s convinced himself with all his nervousness that he deserves this, that he should be grateful to be considered and that he’d be a fool not to take it, is where he fits in the grand scheme of things.
“I—” he starts, habitually rubbing his finger against his thumb as his hands clasp together on his lap. it’s the afternoon of saturday, september 23rd, after practice has ended and his hair is stuck firmly to his forehead with sweat. he sucks in a deep breath, unsure of whether it’s because he ran here or because he has so much he feels he needs to say. “I want this opportunity— more than I think I or anyone else would have thought when it was presented to me.” he pauses, casts his eyes to the ground briefly before meeting seungwook’s once more. “I don’t think it’s up for debate how much I love music, but I think my tendency to be calmly passionate has made me seem... more laid-back about my dream than I truly am. I want this. this opportunity means the world to me and whilst I — like everyone else will have, or at least I hope, since this is a big decision — debated it over for a few days, I don’t think my decision is one I’m stating now with any hesitance.”
he nods firmly. “I want to debut. I want to perform, make lifelong friends, live the dream I’ve had for so long — make myself and my loved ones proud. I want it. yes, I’m interested in the opportunity. more than interested, like— really interested.” he laughs softly, but soon, his expression curls down into a gentle frown.
“but your other question, where I see myself positioned... that...” he grunts in frustration, running a hand through his hair. “that’s something I’m unsure of.”
his brain knows that rappers being so far and few between at sphere should make this a no-brainer, and his heart knows that rap is always the position he’d dreamt for himself, but as expected, he’s scared — scared of a lot of things, but mostly himself.
“I think the logical answer is to say some form of rapper, be it main or lead, and given that my desire for years has been to pave the way for idol rappers, to prove that you don’t have to have immersed yourself in the underground scene for years and write diss tracks about your friends in order to be respected as a rapper— it should be an obvious choice.” he looks thoughtful for a moment, but he doesn’t give his coach enough time to reply should he want to. he isn’t done vomiting out his thoughts just yet. ( maybe this will be a downfall for him; give baek jiyoung enough reasons not to debut him, but he thinks it’s better to be completely honest, especially concerning the rest of his life — his dream. ) “but I don’t think it’s fair of me to put that pressure or judgement on the team. I don’t know what the right answer is. I don’t want to not rap, but I don’t want to be a hindrance either. still, I think it’s the realistic choice if I’m to be given a specific role. I don’t think I would be a wise choice as a lead or main vocalist over most of the other trainees. as for dance, I really— please don’t place me as anything with the word ‘dance’ in.” he chuckles, cheeks tinted pink. “I think— realistically, I would be best placed as a main or lead rapper in the absence of a more obvious choice, or a filler member— and that’s— th-that’s not me just... doubting my abilities. it’s me accepting that I can harmonise, so I would be really useful for backing vocals. it’s me accepting that I don’t stand out against focused vocalists, but am still a strong singer, so would handle things like pre-choruses well, to lead into the main and lead vocalists.”
he hums delicately, smiling as he thinks over his decision. it feels right to him to say it— to admit that he has never had this competitive drive he thinks a lot of trainees likely have. it feels right to admit that he’s a lot more committed than he thinks is expected of him without that dedication and desire to debut overtaking him and making him a glass house just waiting to be smashed. yes, he complains to himself a lot when he has to do things he doesn’t want to do, but he likes to think that that will all change when there’s more to it than just making it to the next month of the same routine— when it’s part of the dream he’s wanted for so long.
“and you mentioned leader, too, and I don’t know if that’s just— like a blanket suggestion sphere is giving to everyone, but I think— I think I’m yet again, not the obvious choice and if there is to be one, that you should pick him, but that... if no one else wanted it, if everyone else was really opposed, then I’d love to learn on the job.” sure, he’s not the most confident public speaker right now, or the most charismatic, but he’s never doubted his natural care, his desire to take care of the people around him and listen to their concerns. soft. he supposes the word he should really be using is soft, but maybe he can learn the rest. perhaps he can grow more easily than he expects into whatever position sphere deems best for him, no matter what he’s spent the last ten minutes explaining. “I think I have the gentleness to be a leader behind the scenes, but I would need assistance to become a good leader in the public eye. but again, that’s sphere’s decision to make, but I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”
he sucks in a deep breath, realises how much he’s said since he sat down, how honest he’s been ( far more than he ever has with anyone at sphere, his fellow trainees and coaches alike ) and he smiles. even if he doesn’t get this, even if baek jiyoung changes her mind, he’s proud of himself. this time last year, he would never have said he’d be contemplating debuting three hundred and sixty five days later, but now that he is, he’s grateful for the journey he’s been on and will continue to follow with sphere. he’s grateful for the man they’ll surely continue to shape him into in time, and above all, he’s grateful for them believing in him even when he didn’t.
( yet, as he leaves the room with the weight finally off his shoulders, he thinks nothing will beat how grateful he’ll be for a smooth night’s sleep now his decision has been finalised. )
( a lie, he realises later, because he lies wide awake in bed thinking about the incredible things that may await him in the future and he’s too excited to sleep instead, and with a quiet laugh he decides he doesn’t mind a bit. I’m going to make them all proud. I’m going to make myself proud. I’m going to be the best version of myself that I possibly can.
