Page 32 of Idol Prize
Min Jun huffed. “If only they’d given you both collars and leashes. Then I could just drag you to where we’re supposed to be.”
Andy chuckled. “Arf, arf. Lead the way!”
The show had upgraded the backstage viewing room since Andy’s previous visit. The dark, cool space was dominated by a massive monitor, with tiered rows of couches facing it. The ever-present camera crews lurked in the front corners, a part of the furniture he’d already learned to mostly ignore.
Andy settled onto a couch with his team, his eyes locked onthe screen as the Dream Boy Project logo slowly pulsed on a background of swirling neon stripes. Teams Ten and Nine started the show with a mixed bag. Nerves got the better of a few of them. Shaky vocals. Choreography a half-step behind the beat. Others overcompensated, pushing too hard with a desperate energy that made him cringe.
The performances improved as they climbed the ranks. More confident. Tighter. The real surprise came from Team Six. They took a mid-tempo ballad and turned it into a breathtaking piece of lyrical storytelling. And at the center of it was Choi Hyun Woo. More than just a dancer. An artist, his movements full of a heartbreaking, raw vulnerability that was impossible to look away from in the hushed viewing room. His team had made a smart, unexpected choice, and turned what could’ve been a simple cover into a bold reimagining.
All the while, Andy perched on his seat surrounded by a revolving door of high-stakes emotion. Teams would be called away, buzzing with adrenaline, anticipation, and nerves, returning after their time onstage electric with relief from a solid performance or weighed down by the quiet disappointment of missed notes and fumbled steps.
As Si Woo introduced Team Three to the assembled Dream Makers, a PA called for the final teams to head backstage. Andy's turn had finally come. He glanced at Leo as they both stood. He’d hardly had a chance to talk to his friend since they’d arrived at the Vision Center. He caught Leo’s eye and raised a fist, pumping it once in a clear, silent message.Fighting. Leo grinned and mirrored Andy’s fist pump as the teams filtered from the room, heading for the backstage wings.
Andy gathered with Team One around the stage left monitor as Team Two took the stage. Woo Jin had inserted himself between him and Min Jae, maybe trying to deflect their gravity-shifting magnetism. Maybe trying to absorb some of it. But Andy’s attention was fixed on Leo. Do well, friend. Do well.
Team Two had taken the opposite path as Andy’s team, reinventing an edgy, stripped-down, hip-hop track as an infectious, high-energy pop song. Leo shined in the main rap role, his smile wide and bright as he rapped through his verse with a bouncing, bubbly vibe that made Andy grin.
Then it happened.
Midway through a transition, one of Leo’s steps landed just far enough out of place to throw off the dancer to his left. The team’s deceptively simple choreography required complete synchronization, and the misstep sent a barely noticeable but definite waver rolling through the line. A small error, maybe imperceptible to a casual viewer. But a glaring disruption to Andy’s trained eye. For two agonizing counts, the crispness of their formation was gone, a ripple in a still pond.
Leo recovered right away, his smile never faltering, his energy undiminished. And the rest of the performance was flawless. But Andy had seen it. That tiny stumble, a momentary lapse in spatial awareness. His cheeks warmed in secondhand embarrassment. Leo’s mistake wasn’t a lack of talent. It was a momentary slip in focus. And Andy’s focus had been AWOL for days, lost in a self-fulfilling fog of yearning and distraction. That could so easily be him. His performance demanded total precision, absolute trust. One wrong step, one moment of his mind drifting, and it could all fall apart. Not just a small wobble in a formation. A complete train wreck, broadcast live to the world.
Andy shook his head, throwing off the fog curling at the edges of his thoughts, and took a deep, steadying breath, seeking the sharp, crystal clarity that had won him his number one rank. No amount of good natured banter or goofy grins would rescue him from a lapse in focus. The stakes were real, so he’d better get his fucking head in the game.
Huddling with his team as the applause roared, Andy showed them his game face with some final words of encouragement. “Whenever I perform in dance competitions, I always remindmyself that, win or lose, the most important thing is to be proud of what I did. Right now, I couldn’t be prouder of you all. So, be proud, because we’re about to turn this whole damn place on its head.” He shoved his hand in the middle of the group, waiting as everyone stacked their hand atop his. Min Jae, the last to do so, met Andy’s gaze, sharing the barest smirk. “One, two, three, fighting!”
Andy led his team onstage before Si Woo had finished calling for them. They didn’t march or walk. They strolled. They sauntered. Andy smirked as murmurs and gasps rose up from the crowd. Even Si Woo was caught mid-sentence. Dark concepts, their leather wardrobe, and bad boy personas were nothing new. But Andy’s stage was all about the attitude. About injecting just the right amount of carefree,don’t give a shitswagger only an American could achieve. Goofy, charming, fun-loving Andy had been put away for the performance. Bad-ass Andy walked out in his place.
The team stopped in a loose lineup at center stage, Andy on one end, Min Jae on the other. Si Woo gave them a quick, questioning once-over, his gaze finally landing on Andy as he asked them for an introduction.
Andy stepped forward, stretching his smirk a bit, defiantly lifting his chin. “You really want to know who we are?”
The audience screamed. Andy glanced at Min Jun beside him, nodding.
“We’re the Thieves of Heart!” Min Jun called out.
“We’re here to steal your heart,” Woo Jin added.
“And make it ours,” Tae Woo said.
Min Jae snorted, stepping forward to match Andy. “Forever.”
The screaming jumped to a fever pitch, even driving Si Woo back a step. Survival show mission performances would always be hit or miss for the live audience. But these Dream Makers knew they were in for a real one.
Andy and the others took their first positions as the lightsdimmed and Si Woo cleared the stage. For a beat, the performance hall was thrust into darkness to the sound of a thousand gasps. Then the sub-bass throbbed, vibrating the floor in a slow, predatory heartbeat as a single, sharp spotlight sliced through the gloom, finding Andy. He lifted his head, showing off a slow, confident smirk. The crowd roared. Gotcha.
Andy’s voice rang out, layering the first verse in a smooth, seductive invitation as he glided through the opening choreography. He found the crane cam pointed at him, practically lighting it on fire as he sang. His team’s energy buzzed around him like an electric current as they launched into the pre-chorus, diving into a lull, a hitched breath, before the first chorus exploded. The lights flared, blinding him, but he didn’t hesitate as he moved, trusting everyone to hit the marks they’d drilled a thousand times.
Andy stepped back for Woo Jin’s verse, slowly moving up toward the light, Min Jae on the other side moving in time to the low, primal pulse vibrating the stage. As Woo Jin slipped away, Min Jae met Andy’s intense gaze across the stage, a raw, almost possessive stare that pierced straight to his core. Andy let his eyes linger as they circled each other, a deliberate invitation. Min Jae tightened his jaw, hunger flaring hot in his dark eyes.
Their first touch was electric. Min Jae’s hand found the small of Andy’s back, owning him as he guided him into the back bend. Andy leaned into it, trusting the strength in Min Jae’s grip, gasping from the delicious rush of adrenaline, their bodies, inches apart. Drunk on Min Jae’s hot breath and spicy, primal scent, Andy allowed himself a single, delicious moment of surrender.
Min Jae sang first, the voice of temptation. Andy responded, answering in kind before their voices shifted into layered harmonies, a velvety fog wrapping them in a drowsy, decadent haze.
Every nerve ending in Andy’s body sparked as they movedinto the climactic pose. He came alive as Min Jae’s thumb brushed the nape of his neck, fighting the urge to lean further into the touch. His hands tightened possessively on Min Jae’s waist. Face-to-face, their breath mingling, the air between them crackling with a tangible charge, the illusion of the performance dissolved, leaving something raw, real, and undeniable in its place. He soaked up Min Jae’s stare until he was delirious. He was in trouble. Deep, delicious trouble.
Andy spun away for the final chorus, Min Jae belting out the lyrics as he stalked Andy across the stage.You and me, forever. You’ll be mine, forever. Forever.The chant continued into the outro, the melody falling away, the five of them slinking forward with each thump of the heartbeat bass. Andy found his camera, fixing his gaze on the lens for his final step and pose.
