From Thug to Idol: Transmigrating to a Survival Show

As the last line lingered through the air, white feathers fell from the stage. The camera focused on each of the singers one by one, all of them having glassy eyes. The audience was so moved to the core that they didn’t even cheer when their favorite artists were shown on the screen. 

The performance just now wasn’t just a showcase of talent and skill. 

It felt like a slap of reality that ended with a warm hug. 

It was a depiction of real life. 

And that was the beauty of the stage they had presented tonight. 

lightsΝοvεl ƈοm On New Year’s Eve, when most of the people watching were with their families, they felt a surge of joy and gratitude in their homes. 

Parents who knew they didn’t do their best for their children felt guilty. Meanwhile, children who felt like they were too harsh on their parents felt empathetic. At the end of the day, each and everyone has their own struggles, so it wouldn’t be too bad to be kinder to each other. 

Cindy blew her nose while her husband caressed her back.

“It’s just a performance, honey,” Mr. Jung chuckled. 

“It’s not just a performance,” Cindy snapped, glaring at her husband. “Now, I miss Jia even more. I want to hug my boo bear so bad.” 

Jia, who successfully held her tears until the end of the performance, looked up at the sky, similar to where June had his gaze directed, and let out a small smile. 

She missed her parents too. 

Minjun, who sulkily (but willingly) watched the show with his grandma, pursed his lips and looked up to the ceiling. The old woman glanced at her precious grandson and softly ruffled his hair. 

A lone tear fell from Minjun’s eyes. He was still too young to fully understand every word of the song, but somehow, he could relate to its meaning. 

However, as another tear fell from his eyes, he quickly got up from the couch and harshly wiped his cheeks. He cleared his throat to make it seem like he wasn’t touched by the performance at all. 

Grandma looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m gonna go,” Minjun said, his voice scratchy. 

“What do you mean?” Grandma’s frown deepened. “Aren’t you going to wait for the countdown? It’s in a couple of minutes. After that, the fireworks are going to go off, and we can eat cake together. You like fireworks, right? Your dad sent us some sparklers, too.” action

“I’m not a kid anymore, Grandma,” Minjun snapped. “I’m tired. Waiting for the countdown is useless. It’s just another year anyway. Nothing’s going to change.” 

With that, he walked to his room and slammed it close. Grandma heard the lock turning, causing her to shake her head in despondency. 

The idols watching backstage were undoubtedly the most immersed in the performance. Even the people who auditioned for a spot in the special performance felt their hearts clear from jealousy. 

It was the perfect stage with the perfect line-up. 

Every one of them contributed to the performance, and the lines they had were tailored to their singing styles. 

Seven sobbed while leaning against Ocho’s shoulder. 

“Tres is so good,” he sniffed. “I can’t believe he’s my teammate. But I have to say, June was my favorite in this performance.”

Dos shook his head. “I’m going to tell on you.” 

“No, please!” Seven exclaimed. “I loved all of them. June just sang it with more…emotion? I don’t know! I just felt like it was real.” 

Uno continued to stare at the screen, his throat hurting because of the tears he held back. 

It was a great stage. 

For a second, he wanted to become a part of it. 

However, as he listened to June’s and Lee Sik’s exchange near the end of the song, all of those thoughts went away. 

If he was a part of the stage, he would have been completely obliterated by June. 

“How about you, Uno?” Seven asked, now back to his energetic self. “Who was your favorite member on this stage.” 

Uno smirked. “Tres, of course.” 

Meanwhile, EVE’s waiting room was practically a mess. 

“I don’t know why I’m crying. My dad’s really good to our family and I couldn’t even relate to the song,” Jisung cried, hiccupping as he spoke. 

“Lucky,” Sehun said. “My dad hasn’t supported my dream ever since, so this performance hits close to home.” 

“Why aren’t you crying then?” Akira asked, snot falling from his nose, causing Ren to look at him with disgust. 

Sehun chukled and ruffled his hair. “You’re just a little kid. This is the strength of your oldest member!” 

“Jaeyong’s one of our older members, too,” Casper pointed out. 

They all looked at their leader who now had swollen eyes and a red nose. His make-up was practically non-existent, and his hair had become a mess. 

“Oh gosh,” Akira said. “I thought I was bad. He looks like he needs utter help.” 

Jaeyong couldn’t hear a word they were saying. He was still too immersed in his feelings. 

Just then, Jay entered the room, his eyes also swollen from watching the performance in the public lounge with all the managers. 

When he saw Jaeyong, his eyes quickly widened. 

“Goodness. What happened to you?” he exclaimed. 

Jaeyong glared at him. “Should you really be asking that when you also look like a puffer fish?” 

“Well, at least I don’t need to go on stage,” Jay said. “The countdown is about to start, so you all need to go to the stage right now.” 

Silence hailed in the largest waiting room where CHAOS was situated. 

Gideon tried his hardest not to cry, but a lone tear still escaped his eyes. 

“What did you guys think of the performance?” Kwon asked, also with unshed tears. 

Nashon, their main rapper, nodded in approval. “It was good. As expected from Xion, he killed it again. I was touched all throughout the performance.”

“That rookie, Tres, is quite good, too,” he added. “Mimi and Nico are already expected to be good singers. However, Nico has improved since the last time I’ve seen him.” 

“Yeah,” Gideon agreed. “Mr. Lee Sik’s voice almost had me there, especially when he sang during the middle with June.” 

Kwon glanced at their leader before clearing his throat. “June was pretty…good, right?” he meekly asked. 

Haruki, whose face was devoid of any emotion, stood from his seat. 

“Let’s go,” he said. “The countdown is in five minutes.” 

He walked to the door but halted when Kwon asked another question. 

“How did you find the performance, Haruki? Did June exceed your expectations? He really improved a lot since our trainee days.” 

Haruki paused for a while but didn’t bother turning around. 

“Kwon,” he said, his voice deepening. 

“Don’t say that name in front of me again.”