Page 27 of Idol Prize
Andy held up the packet a PA had handed him. “Should we take a look at what they’ve given us?” He opened the packet, suppressing a groan as he pulled out the short stack of lyrics sheets. Printed across the top in neat block letters,U & Me 4EVAby O-RING. Or, rather, ORAK, meaning entertainment or amusement, in Korean. A fun bit of double-meaning wordplay. But that was where the fun ended. Andy’d heard the song before. Anyone his age whose parents listened to K-pop would’ve probably heard it as a child. One of the quintessential 1st gen groups debuting in the late 90s, O-RING’s music was a mix of incredibly sweet, melodic bubblegum pop and dramatic, heartfelt ballads. They were known for their matching colorful outfits and simple, catchy point choreography.
Andy passed out the lyrics sheets to the others, who mostly didn’t bother to hide their groans. Everyone except Tae Woo, who nearly jumped for joy.
“Is this really our mission?” Tae Woo held up the lyrics sheet as if it might suddenly combust. “I love this song!”
Woo Jin snorted. “Seriously? It’s gotta be at least twice as old as you are.”
“What?” Tae Woo huffed. “I’m only a year younger than you, sunbaenim.”
“That’s right! And it’s twice as old as I am.” Woo Jin shook his head. “I can’t believe this is our song.”
Andy pulled the thumb drive from the packet. “Should we watch the video?”
“We should choose our group leader first,” Min Jae announced. Andy turned to fix him with a narrow-eyed stare. Was that asshole already making a power play? “I nominate Andy.”
No one was more shocked than Andy to hear that. But he did a better job than most to conceal his surprise. Especially Woo Jin. “I don’t–”
“Andy is our number one ranked member,” Min Jae explained, cutting Woo Jin off, his tone smooth and utterly reasonable. “It’s only right that he should lead the number one team.”
A reasonable, logical, respectful choice. It made perfect sense in a world where everyone wasn’t constantly angling for advantage. But Min Jae was definitely making a play, even if Andy didn’t understand it. It was all the ice king ever did.
Andy glanced at the others. “What do you all think?”
Woo Jin shared a long, pointed look with Min Jae before surrendering to the inevitable. “Min Jae’s right. I vote Andy.”
“Me, too,” Min Jun said.
“Not that it matters,” Tae Woo added, “since it’s already a majority, but I agree. It should be Andy.”
Which made it unanimous. Not that Andy couldn’t have refused the role. But he didn’t want to. Being leader in the last challenge was what put him into his number one rank in the first place. But that was with a team that genuinely wanted to be ledby him. His current team’s decision felt a lot more like offloading unwanted responsibility onto him.
“Okay,” Andy replied, already feeling the extra weight settling on his shoulders. “If that’s what everyone wants. I’ll be the leader. And my first decision as leader is to watch this video and see exactly what we’re working with.”
Andy went to the large, wall-mounted monitor–no simple tablets for the dream team–and slipped the thumb drive into the side slot. He grabbed the remote, found the video file, and started playing it. From almost the first frame, a slow-motion car crash of disbelief and horrified amusement exploded in his mind. The five members of O-RING, dressed in matching, billowy white outfits, bounced around a stark white set, their choreography a series of simple, heart-achingly earnest gestures. They sang of promises and forever, the kind of innocent sugary pop that hadn't been cool in decades.
Andy wasn’t alone. He glanced at the others. Tae Woo smiling and nodding his head to the beat. Min Jun’s horrified stare. Woo Jin wearily rubbing his forehead. Min Jae–well, being Min Jae. He could’ve been watching the birth of his first child or an actual car crash. Andy never would’ve known which.
The music video ended with a final, dramatic pose, leaving the five of them stewing in a thick, uncomfortable silence. Andy, perhaps, the most uncomfortable of all. Cracking a breezy grin and tossing out a cheesy joke would’ve easily broken the group’s tension. Something a leader would do, steering everyone from their despair toward a more helpful, moving-forward mindset. But it wouldn’t have been real. Only deflecting the inevitable.
“I think we can all probably agree that we’re in for an interesting challenge with this song,” Andy finally said.
Tae Woo quietly huffed. “With all respect, sunbaenim, I know you're being facetious. But I genuinely believe it's a good song. A lot of people still like it.”
“You still don't get it,” Min Jae sharply countered. “We’re notjust covering this song. We’re reinventing it. How much you or the Dream Makers like the original is irrelevant.”
Tae Woo frowned, either at Min Jae’s rebuke or finally understanding the situation for what it was. But Woo Jin spoke up next.
“So, we could do anything we like, then. Right? Like, turn that sickeningly syrupy bridge into a sick rap section.”
Min Jun excitedly nodded. “And level up the harmonies. They had five guys, too. But they were only doing two or three-part harmonies.”
Woo Jin chuckled. “Hell, yeah. Five-part harmonies and a sick rap bridge.”
“And make it darker,” Min Jae added. “Costumes all in black and oxblood. Amp up the bassline like a heartbeat.”
Woo Jin snorted. “No way. I mean, no offense, hyung, but turning it into some emo rocker track would be just as bad, but dressed in black.”
Andy frowned, both at Woo Jin’s comment and his surprising pushback to his former leader. “No, we’re not doing that, Woo Jin.” Everyone turned to him. “We’re brainstorming right now, so no takedowns of other ideas. It just kills the flow.” Woo Jin opened his mouth to reply, but Andy didn’t give him the space for it. “And I like where Min Jae’s going with this.” Min Jae’s right eyebrow floated up, but Andy ignored that, too. “Going dark is a good start. But we should push it further than that. Really dig into the song’s foundation.” He turned to Tae Woo. “What’s it about?”
