Meanwhile.
At the very hour the death matches were under way, Director Choi Geun-sik was on his way to an important meeting with CEO Jeon Nam-il.
“President Jeon, are you tired at all?”
“No, I’m fine.”
Director Choi glanced at the president, who sat by the right-hand window, then carefully made a suggestion.
“If you are not, would you like to watch some K-Singer Star clips while we travel?”
“I kept meaning to but had no time, so that is good. Let’s do that.”
President Jeon accepted readily, then added,
“I was told Mr. HS is appearing as the main judge.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“I wonder what changed his mind, since he always refused to be on television.”
Director Choi watched his expression, then quickly pulled out his phone.
“Shall I ask Manager Kim about it?”
The president slowly shook his head and gestured with his chin.
“No. Play the video first.”
“Yes, just a moment.”
Familiar with new media despite his age, Director Choi soon found a clip on NewTube.
On the ceiling screen in the back seat began a video titled,
“[K-Singer Star] Explosive pairing, Kang Hajun VS Yoon Jaeyi in the main round, who will win?”
“The young man you see now is Kang Hajun, a trainee from Team One,” Choi explained as he pointed.
“Team One seems to have very high hopes for him. I have monitored several times, and he looks to have definite star quality.”
Although the boy belonged to Executive Director Park’s division, Choi had lately been watching him, judging that he could bring profit to the company.
“Director Park keeps talking about him these days. Purely in terms of looks, he certainly seems to have a high chance of success.”
“I hear a fan café has already been opened and a substantial fandom is forming. He should be able to debut successfully without huge investment.”
The president nodded slowly and turned his eyes to the screen.
Soon a familiar song to LS Entertainment people flowed from the speakers.
“Hmm?”
Jeon narrowed his eyes and focused.
“Walk With Me” was originally Seo Jini’s gentle, sentimental piece. Kang Hajun continued without breaking that mood.
Perhaps because he was watching on a screen and not in person, he did not feel any single blow that struck him hard.
How to put it?
“He is good, and that is all.”
Still, in today’s industry handsome idols often rely on live AR and then are exposed in encore stages, so with looks and vocal skill both above average, there would be no fuss about “live ability controversy,” and he would stand out.
“He could debut right away without any problem,” the president gave a short appraisal.
“Yes, I think so t… oh, here she comes.”
Right then, Director Choi pointed again.
“Sir, this is Yoon Jaeyi, the contestant Team Two just signed.”
“I see. Manager Kim brought her in?”
“No, though he filed the contract, the recruitment was at Min HYoonseung’s request.”
The president turned, repeating softly, “Min HYoonseung?”
“Yes. He liked her very much, even saved her with a super pass when she was almost eliminated.”
The president covered his mouth with a fist and chuckled.
“So it’s someone Mr. HS picked.”
Choi expected him to say more and waited, but the president only stared at Yoon Jaeyi on the screen.
“Hmm?”
Yoon Jaeyi walked out with a guitar, and the president raised his eyebrows with a low hum.
Right, Choi nodded slightly. He himself had reacted the same when he first saw her.
Probably the feeling the president had now was bewilderment. The accompaniment was the exact opposite of the original “Walk With Me.”
A natural aversion to something different?
It was a song he had heard to the point of growing calluses on his ears, yet it felt unfamiliar, producing jamais vu1.
But that lasted only a moment.
By the end of the song, bewilderment would have changed into shock.
“Just for today, forget everything and walk with me,” Yoon Jaeyi finished.
The clip ended and auto-play moved to the next, yet neither man spoke.
More precisely, Choi remained silent because the president did.
He had expected at least a brief feedback, but…
Director Choi rolled a coin in his pocket, a habit whenever he waited anxiously.
For a while the president tapped his leg, fingers twitching, lost in thought.
At last, as if resolved, he slapped his knee lightly.
“Since she is someone he chose, there is no reason to doubt. She has brought much success to the company, so I think it is time we returned the favor,” he said, then narrowed his eyes, adding meaningfully,
“That will benefit us in the long run.”
Catching the implication, Director Choi answered that he understood, and the president nodded, satisfied.
Choi turned off the screen, thinking more words might tire him.
Silence returned to the car.
Director Choi’s fingers flew, sending a text somewhere.
Manager Kim stood beneath the stage to watch the last death match.
“It has been ages since I loitered on a set this long.”
Arms folded, he stared fixedly upward.
Yoon Jaeyi’s stage would soon begin.
“I have to watch carefully,” he thought.
HS had saved her with a super pass, given her a chance to reach the Top 11. No, now she was in the same family.
Manager Kim did not doubt HS’s ears — Seo Jini and Jung Arin proved them. Still, he had not yet found star quality or market value in Yoon Jaeyi. He wanted to see it himself.
He tensed his eyes in resolve.
Footsteps sounded. Yoon Jaeyi walked to center stage, the lights dimmed, and a pale blue spot poured onto her head.
When the lights came up, she was sitting cross-legged, her signature pose.
Tap, tap, tap.
She struck the guitar body for count, then the guitar joined perfectly with the MR.
Her red lips opened in her snow-white face.
A heavy voice contradicted her small frame; wistful breaths tickled the air.
Her moving fingers enriched the simple accompaniment.
Usually so shy, on stage she seemed to occupy her own world.
“She loves music itself,” Manager Kim thought.
In this field, people survive by stepping on others and craving recognition, running without pause. Contestants probably feel the same, hoping rivals drop, that they themselves win, grinding their teeth.
But Yoon Jaeyi looked different. Gazing at the guitar as if at a child, happiness filled her eyes.
Ah…
Kim stared blankly at her face.
Found it.
When she lifted her chin toward the lights, the Milky Way poured into eyes as black as night.
No matter what anyone says, at least at this moment she shone the brightest.
“Just as Hyunseung said, a fine instrument.”
For a singer, star quality and market value reveal themselves on stage, though the ground where each shows a trump card differs slightly.
Her star quality shone most on stage and her market value bloomed when she sang.
“I am glad I came to see in person,” Kim muttered sincerely.
Bzzz, bzzz.
His phone vibrated with consecutive texts.
[ Director Choi: The president wants to push Yoon Jaeyi firmly. ]
[ Director Choi: Try raising her properly, Woohyun. ]
[ Director Choi: She might become the second Jeong Ah-rin. ]
Kim read the messages and made up his mind.
Yes. He would guide Yoon Jaeyi well.
“The Yuju versus Yoon Jaeyi death match has also finished.”
The MC stood at center, giving a short interview.
“Yuju, how do you feel?”
“I am pleased because I think I showed a better stage than in rehearsal.”
Then to Yoon Jaeyi.
“And how about you?”
“I sang with all my heart, so I have no regrets.”
Though Yuju got more airtime, Yoon Jaeyi now answered smoothly too.
The MC glanced at the judges, stretching the moment.
“It seems the judges are taking quite some time, the result must be close…”
The judges pretended to hold a serious conference, but in fact,
“Do we really need to go this far?”
“Well, orders are orders.”
“This is when the job feels most hollow,” they muttered.
Still, they praised the contestants.
“When Hajun came out I was amazed, he improved so much,” someone said, and all nodded.
Hajun had given an excellent stage.
“And what about Jaeyi’s stage,” Kim Gwang-jin smiled toward her. “The more rounds she wins, the deeper her color becomes.”
Everyone turned eyes to Yoon Jaeyi.
“It is true,” said another. “Her voice is never dull; it keeps getting better.”
Kim Gwang-jin closed his eyes briefly. “Today, every one of them looked like shining stars on stage. Two of those stars were so bright their afterimage remains in my sight.”
All the judges thought of the same two names. Yoon Jaeyi and Kang Hajun.
Kim Gwang-jin opened his wrinkled lips in a warm smile. “I want to watch those stars for a long, long time.”
The brief conference ended.
“I now have the card with the winner’s name,” the MC announced, knowing it was all staged and that both would pass.
He raised the tension, then shouted, “For the first time, an unexpected result. By unanimous decision, both contestants advance.”
Cheers rose.
Yuju, though she knew already, acted shocked for the camera. She tapped the dazed Yoon Jaeyi on the back and giggled like a teenager.
All eleven finalists came on stage.
“The faces of the Top 11 who will sing in the finals,” the MC cried.
On the giant LED behind them the faces appeared, and the cameras panned over them.
But the judges looked only at the two brightest stars in turns.
- Jamais vu, meaning “never seen” in French, is a phenomenon where a familiar person, place, or object feels unfamiliar, as if it is being encountered for the first time. It’s often described as the opposite of déjà vu, where something feels familiar despite being new. This feeling can be unsettling, causing confusion and disorientation. ↩︎
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