The dance mentor’s gaze was intense. “Your technical abilities are impressive,” she said, her tone sharpening around the final word. “We can all see that. But that wasn’t the true strength of your performance. It came from your heart. For the first time today, I felt like someone was being honest with me. I believed you.”
Andy was floored. He performed another, even deeper bow. “Thank you, seonsaengnim.”
“Director Choi?”
The executive producer beamed brighter than the studio lighting, his earlier pronouncement seemingly fulfilled. “I agree with Riki and Hwa Young! You have sincerity. You have that desperate heart I was looking for. Andy Kim, you’re definitely one to watch in this competition.”
Andy’s joy was so buoyant he nearly floated off the stage. Three for three. It was more than he could have ever hoped for.
“And finally, Cipher?” Si Woo asked, turning to the last, silent judge. “Do you have anything to add?”
The rap mentor leaned forward, his expression as loose and unimpressed as it had been when Andy first caught his eye. He picked up his microphone. “Your flow is decent,” he admitted. “You’re from California?”
Momentarily stunned by the unexpected question, Andy nearly frowned but caught himself in time. “Yes, seonsaengnim.”
Cipher slowly nodded, as if he’d finally solved the case. “That’s what I thought. Your pronunciation is surprisingly good.” He paused for a beat. “For an American.”
On the outside, Andy forced a bright, grateful smile, the muscles in his cheeks aching with the effort. Inside, he was a child, and Cipher had just popped his balloon. His cheeks warmed from the surging heat of angry humiliation, unwilling to let it show. To let the thoughtless words of one cranky judge undo the high, soaring praise of the others. After all that, he was still an outsider. A foreigner, deserving no praise without a qualifier. He performed a final, deep bow. “Thank you, seonsaengnim.”
Andy kept smiling until Si Woo announced the next commercial break, finally allowing himself to relax. Everything was fine. Yeah, Cipher was an asshole. But Director Choi called him someone to watch. That counted way more than the opinion of some has-been rapper who hadn’t put out a new album in years.
After a quick visit with another sound tech to replace hiswireless mic, Andy was allowed to return to his seat. Leo immediately stood, drawing Andy into a surprisingly warm hug.
“Don't let that get to you,” Leo whispered. “Cipher’s comment wasn't for you, it was for the viewers at home. They have to establish your storyline. The talented foreigner. It's just part of the game.”
Andy sank back into his seat, Leo’s words a cynical balm on his wounded pride. The talented foreigner. Just part of the game. He examined his surroundings with fresh eyes. The guys on the risers weren't just competitors anymore. They were a cast. The cocky dancer, the power vocalist, the nervous kid with the pretty face. And now he knew his role, too.
The next contestant finished to a wave of polite applause rippling through the room. Andy joined in, making his clap enthusiastic, his smile encouraging for the cameras he now felt on him like a hundred eyes. When the judges gave a harsh critique, he put on a look of thoughtful sympathy, mirroring the expressions of the guys around him. He was performing, even in his chair. Leo was right. As much as Cipher’s comment still stung, it was truly a gift. Being the outsider made him stand out. Standing out got you screen time. And Director Choi had already said he was one to watch. Maybe Cipher had accidentally done him a favor, handing the show’s editors the perfect, ready-made storyline.
Andy was so wrapped up in analyzing his performance and strategizing for what might come next that he barely noticed the previous contestant leave the stage. He wasn’t paying attention when Si Woo introduced the next performer. Then, a familiar aggressive, distorted bass line exploded from the sound system. The new single from the DoubleDown Boys, another KBR artist like XTC. A rap-heavy, neo-pop track known for its ferociously complex dance break calledBring the House Down. The contestant attacked the stage with a brutal, mesmerizing, razor-sharp precision. Every pop, every isolation, every turn was executed with analmost inhuman level of power and control. Andy had been all about fluid, charismatic connection. This guy was a naked display of raw dominance.
Then the rap started, a low, controlled torrent of syllables delivered without a single wasted breath, his voice cutting through the heavy beat. He skipped right past an invitation to his audience. He demanded their attention. His eyes, dark and intense, were fixed on some point in the distance, his handsome face hardened with a righteous fury that made his performance exhilarating. Dangerous.
Stunned, Andy risked leaning over to Leo, his voice a tight whisper. "Who the hell is that guy?"
Leo just shook his head, his friendly face a mask of awe and dread. “I have no idea. But I think he may be another one to watch.”
When the song hit its climax, the infamous dance break, the guy’s body practically blurred with impossible angles and lightning-fast footwork as he consumed the moves.
As the final notes rang out, the guy smashed into his final pose, holding it like he’d hit a wall. The hall was stunned into a brief, absolute silence before exploding into the loudest, most genuine applause of the day. The giddy confidence Andy had been nursing vanished, burned away and replaced with a surge of pure, competitive adrenaline. He turned to Leo, an almost unhinged grin pulling at his lips. “Okay. Well. Good luck to the rest of us.”
Andy faced the stage again, his eyes fixed on the performer who’d just burned the place down, a single thought barging through the noise in his head. Game on.
The thunderous applause finally died down under Si Woo’s expert guidance. The host beamed, looking genuinely impressed as he turned to the mentors, already exchanging stunned, knowing glances.
Riki seemed at a loss for words at first. She eventually spokeof raw, undeniable power. Of flawless vocal control under the kind of physical duress that should have made his voice shake. Hwa Young spoke of the performance in terms of conquest. She talked about his dominance, his absolute command of every inch of the stage. How it was impossible to look away. Director Choi didn’t speak of sincerity. He spoke of inevitability. He used words like aura and star power, describing a performer who didn't feel like a contestant, but an established idol they’d somehow discovered fully formed.
And then there was Cipher. The stoic rap mentor, who’d dismissed Andy with a backhanded insult, just gave a single, slow nod. When Si Woo pressed him for a comment, he leaned into the microphone and offered one quiet word.
“Real.”
The word hung in the air, more impactful than all the effusive praise that had come before it. It was the ultimate validation, given by the one judge who seemed impossible to impress.
Si Woo, still glowing from the powerful display of strength and skill, stepped forward. "Another stunning performance that has left our mentors spellbound! Let's hear it one more time for Kwon Min Jae!"
Finally, a name.
The words echoed in Andy’s head.Dominance. Command. Inevitable. Real.The subtext was a flashing neon sign, impossible to ignore. Andy had shown them his potential. Min Jae had shown them a star.
