Yoon Hanchan unconsciously looked around.
He could see several people with surprised expressions. Most of them were engineers.
The managers who had been looking down on Han Seon-ho from the start had let his evaluation comments go in one ear and out the other. They forgot them the moment they heard them.
But the engineers—whose livelihoods depended on music—had no choice but to remember, even if they tried to brush it off.
As a result, apart from a few sharp-witted or particularly observant managers, the ones who sensed Han Seon-ho’s extraordinariness were mostly people in the engineering field.
Hm. I didn’t expect that.
Yoo Ayeon watched them, falling into thought.
The reason she had asked Han Seon-ho to give an evaluation had nothing to do with his skills.
She had simply wanted to check his diction—to see if he could possibly be cast as a singer or actor.
Han Seon-ho wasn’t the type to speak at length, so she had made Cha Hye-mi a condition to get him to talk.
She was also intrigued by the possibility of recruiting Cha Hye-mi.
But then, Han Seon-ho showed an unexpected talent.
Just because his evaluation aligned with Jang Soohyuk’s didn’t necessarily confirm his musical abilities, but one thing was clear—he wasn’t clueless.
Now I’m even more interested.
Rumor had it that Han Seon-ho personally contacted Cha Hye-mi and Jung Su-rim about the song.
There had been disagreements with the previous arranger, but it was widely known that Han was ultimately chosen thanks to the overwhelming support from the singers.
“The voting is now closed!”
At that moment, the host Song Hanmin’s voice rang out.
The fifth performance had officially ended, and it was time for the sixth to begin.
Cha Hye-mi and Jung Su-rim’s performance was the only stage Han Seon-ho hadn’t evaluated.
Or more accurately, couldn’t evaluate.
Cha Hye-mi had completely forgotten the lyrics, making it impossible to assess the stage at the time.
As a result, there was a strong sense of mystery surrounding this performance.
The rehearsal alone hadn’t been enough to get a sense of the actual stage.
Yoo Ayeon and the engineers focused several times harder than they had for the previous performances.
What kind of stage will it be?
It was always easier to give commentary from the sidelines, but much harder to take the lead.
She was curious about how Han Seon-ho had directed the performance of his own singers.
But what they didn’t fully realize yet was that Han Seon-ho was just a rookie road manager.
Usually, a rookie road manager was someone who simply trailed behind the artist like a baby chick.
Someone removed from the act of producing a performance.
So, whether consciously or not, they were already acknowledging that Han Seon-ho wasn’t a “normal” presence.
A moment later, the lights came on over the dark stage.
TV viewers turned their attention to the screen, and the live audience looked to the main stage screen.
Cha Hye-mi and Jung Su-rim’s VTR began.
At the same time, the internet exploded.
—Wow, Cha Hye-mi is such a jerk?
—Look at her expression, damn. What is she, some kind of mind reader?
—“I said I like this song better. I can see through your mind. Your song is cursed.”
—“Gung Hye-mi” lol.. *Gung means someone of higher status like royalty
—That poor composer. Look at his face.
—Wasn’t she basically saying the composer didn’t do his best?
—Seriously. They’re from the same company, and he even helped with the project. Then she just ditches him?
—Cha Hye-mi’s not even that famous but she’s acting like a total diva.
The scene where Cha Hye-mi rejected PD Joo Min-hwan wasn’t very long.
But viewers were always sensitive to celebrities negative behaviour, holding them to a higher-than-average standard of conduct.
That’s why small incidents like not greeting someone or having a bad expression often blew up on TV.
In that sense, Cha Hye-mi’s behavior was more than enough to provoke netizens.
Among these netizens, the harshest critics were fans of rival artists.
If Cha Hye-mi and Jung Su-rim were eliminated, only one team would be left to be cut.
That meant the odds of their own favourites surviving would increase.
The peak of the flaming VTR was the scene where PD Joo Min-hwan walked out, hurt, and Cha Hye-mi turned to Jung Su-rim with a smile.
—She’s like Light Yagami. “All according to plan.”
—“Cha-gami”?
—That’s a stretch, but “Gung Hye-mi” is killing me 😂
—I hate that smug smile.
—I feel like Jung Su-rim is being manipulated by Cha Hye-mi. She even looked nervous when suggesting the song change to the PD.
—I thought the same. Back in Season 2, Cha Hye-mi was all shy and pure, but now it looks like that was all an act.
—Why is everyone reacting like this? To me, she just expressed a clear opinion about the song. Should singers have to walk on eggshells even for that?
—I didn’t feel like she was rude at all, but the reaction seems so negative. Maybe she just really loved the new song?
—If she liked the new song so much, she should’ve at least informed the original composer first. The whole track’s done and then she comes in with that face saying, “I like this better?” That’s not respectful.
—Celebs don’t know how to function in society. No sense of courtesy.
—I need no courtesy. I am Gung Hye-mi. I have foreseen that this song is superior!
—I just feel bad for Jung Su-rim now.
—They’re showing this VTR to the live audience too, right?
—Yeah. I’m at MBN Hall right now. It’s playing here as well.
—What’s the vibe there?
—Not sure about everyone, but the mood near me isn’t great. Though I’m surrounded by high school girls holding phones. Pretty sure they’re all Kang Mireu fans.
There were some defending comments, but overwhelmingly, the criticisms were louder.
About an 80:20 ratio.
The live audience wasn’t quite as extreme as online, more of a 50:50 split, or slightly leaning negative.
But the aggressive tone online—mainly from rival fanbases—made things look worse than they really were.
Still, the public sentiment was clearly against them.
And then, the VTR ended.
There was no dramatic reversal to shift public opinion.
All that remained for Cha Hye-mi and Jung Su-rim was their performance. Only the song could show their sincerity now.
Pop.
All the lights on the stage went out.
In the pitch-black stage.
Music began to flow out.
A dark stage.
A quiet audience.
Soft music gently streaming out.
A piano performance that sounded as if one were listening to it while in a deep sleep.
Was it because the previous performance was a song with intense sound?
Instead, the small, whisper-like music began to instantly capture the ears of both viewers and the audience.
And now, it was time to capture their eyes.
Amid the strangely quiet piano performance, a round beam of light appeared.
The light swayed this way and that, awakening the darkened stage.
As the once-gentle music began to swell along with the piano, the swaying stopped.
Soon, the audience could see a single singer standing within the circle.
Jung Su-rim.
Jung Su-rim, enveloped in a light so bright it was almost blinding.
But there was one thing the light couldn’t cover—her voice.
Autumn comes again
To cover the streets we walked together in fallen leaves,
Autumn comes again
To carry the scent of the season that reminds me of you
As Jung Su-rim’s murmuring yet clearly delivered voice filled the MBN Hall, the audience couldn’t help but let out a quiet gasp of admiration.
Someone widened their eyes and rubbed their goosebump-covered arms, while someone else unknowingly leaned their upper body forward.
These streets, these sounds remain the same,
But my thoughts, my memories drift back to then,
Your presence is about to consume me—
Autumn comes again
Cha Hye-mi’s Autumn Leaf had the exact same lyrics as Kim Dong-han’s Autumn Leaf.
But the version Jung Su-rim was performing now had subtly different lyrics from Kim Dong-han’s.
Because while Kim Dong-han’s Autumn Leaf sorrowfully reminisced about memories with a loved one, Jung Su-rim’s Autumn Leaf embraced those memories with joy.
And Jung Su-rim perfectly captured that complex emotion: “I can’t go back, and that’s a bit sad, but just remembering makes me happy.”
That’s when a new melody joined the song.
An instrument that blended seamlessly with the piano—it was an accordion.
“Ah…!”
With the arrival of the melody, Cha Hye-mi stepped boldly into the circle of light that had been Jung Su-rim’s space alone.
And then, Cha Hye-mi’s song began.
The moment Cha Hye-mi’s song started, Jang Soohyuk, who had been reclining in his chair, sat up straight.
Next to him, Chaemi widened her eyes, then closed them.
Moon Jungkook took off his monitoring headset, seemingly wanting to savour the song directly.
If Jung Su-rim was the “present me” reminiscing on memories after a breakup, Cha Hye-mi was the “past me” who had spent those days with her lover.
Cha Hyemi’s voice was full of happiness, brimming with joy and excitement.
With identical hairstyles, matching accessories, and the same-coloured outfits, Jung Su-rim and Cha Hye-mi looked like completely identical people from afar.
But they belonged to different timelines.
Jung Su-rim, with her skinny jeans, presented a sophisticated modern image, while Cha Hye-mi’s wool plaid skirt evoked a feeling of the past.
Your large hand that held me tightly,
Your big strides that matched mine,
Your wide smile from that big mouth,
You, the one who shaped my happiness
Cha Hye-mi’s voice was full of love, and her movements were overflowing with happiness.
On the screen, a bright smile spread across her lips.
Judge Chaemi covered her mouth with both hands in amazement.
That wasn’t acting.
It was a smile that came purely from genuine happiness.
What on earth is she thinking about while singing…
At that moment, Hye-mi was recalling the conversation she had before the performance.
A conversation she had with Han Seon-ho.
‘Hye-mi, don’t worry too much about the VTR. That’s just someone trying to…’
‘The VTR doesn’t bother me at all.’
‘Really? Are you really okay?’
As Seon-ho’s eyes filled with concern, Hye-mi found herself asking a question without realizing it.
‘Earlier, during my rehearsal… what were you doing?’
‘Hm? What else? I was monitoring your performance, of course.’
‘Really?’
‘If you’re worried you made a mistake with the lyrics…’
‘You were talking to someone.’
‘Huh?’
‘Just… it was a face I felt like I’d seen somewhere before, so I was curious.’
‘Ah, Manager Yoo?’
Han Seon-ho hesitated for a moment, then slowly began to speak.
‘I was planning to tell you this after the performance… but what do you think of W(UU) Entertainment?’
‘W Entertainment? Why do you bring that up all of a sudden?’
‘You have to transfer companies in a year, right? To a company prearranged with MOK.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘That’s what worries me. To be honest, I’m not sure MOK will handle your trade properly. I mean, just look at what happened today.’
After Hye-mi’s silence, Seon-ho continued.
‘But W seems to be interested in you. Right now, there’s no company in this industry that can touch W Entertainment. So if you move to W…’
‘Then…’
‘Hm?’
‘Then… were you talking about me with Manager Yoo?’
