“Who do you think is the ace among you?”

            “Jaekyung-unnie.”  Park Jiyoon says without even the slightest hesitation — We finally get names attached to the new faces, courtesy of the subtitled tag.

            The interviews take place against a grey wall, with the official symbol of Planet Idol plastered across it in pastel purple and teal. Each girl sits on the same chair, looking at the interviewer who remains hidden behind the camera.

            Shin Minha, a (yet another) pretty girl with long bleached blonde hair, says just as confidently, “Jaekyung, definitely.”

            “She’s got it all, dance, vocal, charisma,” says Im Hwayoung, “Honestly I’m not sure why she hasn’t debuted already.”

            Koo Nari seems to agree with the sentiment, “Jaekyung-unnie is like an idol already.”

The ace of Starship Entertainment, reads the text on the screen, Song Jaekyung. How will she impress the trainers?

Back in the circular room, Jaekyung only smiles confidently and waits for the music to start.

All the trainees clap as she strikes her final pose, and Shin Minha even lets out a loud whoop that makes Jaekyung chuckle and bow deeply, the curtain of long red curls almost touching the floor.

            “That was hotter than summer in Nasaeok, wow.” Says Lee Doori — the previously shown wide-eyed fringe girl — in her interview.

            “Did you choreograph it yourself?” Hoshi asks.

            Jaekyung nods. “Yes. My specialty is dance.”

            “Very impressive. Your movements are very smooth and natural, but your facial expressions are your strongest suit.”

            “But are they that good that you decided not to sing and only dance for us?” says Soyou.

            It catches Jaekyung off-guard, though she quickly recovers and says, “I wanted to showcase my best talent, to focus on it to show you the best side of me.”

            “And you did. But are you sure it’s going to be enough against the rest?”

            A few other girls — notably Starship’s Im Hwayoung — gulp nervously. And indeed, Im Hwayoung’s introduction performance is shown right after, and she too gets similar feedback.

“You’re not even as good a dancer as Jaekyung. Your facial expressions can’t be the only thing that saves you.” Soyou says.

            “It really is a shame you didn’t sing.” Adds Raina.

            Hwayoung laughs it off charmingly with a bow, promising to be better next time.

            “Are there any dancers who prepared a dance and a song?” Kyulkyung asks.

            Two very pretty girls raise their hands; one confidently, one tentatively.

            “You, Koo Nari from Starship, right?” Hoshi reads from the list of names, and the younger-looking girl, petite, with doe-eyed monolids and (yet another) fringe, rises from her chair.

            Minha says an encouraging, “Good luck!” as Nari takes a deep breath and settles into her starting pose.

from :49 to 1:51, singing from :49 to 1:05 and 1:35 to 1:51(very airy voice, the typical Korean-accented English)

            There’s a big round of applause from the other trainees, and for the first time the judges seem pleased with what they’re seeing.

            “I’m guessing you choreographed this yourself?” asks Hoshi.

            Nari looks around before nodding shyly, eyes lowered. Hoshi smiles fondly and writes something down.

            “Your voice isn’t strong by any means,” says Soyou, “But you’ve tried to sing, and I can tell you’ve spent a lot of time practicing — which is what matters at this point.” With a scrutinizing look, she adds for everyone, “You need to realize that it doesn’t matter if you’re the best singer, the best dancer, the best rapper, if you can’t combine them together. Being an idol is about giving a performance that has all of that combined into one. You’re not here to be singers, after all. You wouldn’t have been idol trainees otherwise. So be idol trainees.”

            “What about you?” Kyulkyung turns to the other girl who raised her hand. “Pledis’ Moon Sera?”

            Sera stands up and walks into the center, though she brings the chair with her. The moment before the music starts showcases her stunning beauty — foreign and exotic, pale like a woman in a skin bleach commercial with a gorgeous face and envious curves most Koreans would only dream of, tiny waist accentuated perfectly by the tight white crop top and white-and-red skirt she is wearing. Her black hair serves as a jarring contrast to the white outfit, somehow making her even more beautiful.

            “I’m… confused.” Exy chuckles awkwardly.

            Hosi is just as confused, “Didn’t you say your specialty is dance?”

            Sera nods, not very baffled by the lack of positive feedback. “It is. Singing is actually my worst skill, which is why I wanted to challenge myself and show you exactly that.”

            “Bold. Not sure if it’ll give you any fans, though.” Says Soyou.

            Sera does not avert her eyes. “I guess we’ll see.”

            There is a sliver of approval in the older woman’s eyes as they watch the trainee go back to her seat.

            “Okay… Are there any rappers among you?” asks Jooheon after Sera is sitting again. “Exy and I didn’t have anything to judge yet and it’s getting boring.”

            Two girls raise their hands. The first one, Pledis’ Wendy Hong, delivers on her promise and showcases a rapping performance, snippets of it playing in quick succession on the screen.

            The other girl, however, is the very same hanbok-clad girl, who, after stumbling towards the far back of the room, makes her way awkwardly into the center, struggling to juggle between the boxes and the fold-up table she’s carrying and not getting tangled in the skirts of her hanbok and falling down on her face. The others watch her with various levels of amusement. Jooheon seems dubious, eyes twitching suspiciously as she puts up the construction before her and bows to the trainers.

            “I’m Pledis’s Oh Miyoung!” she says brightly. “Please enjoy my performance!”

            In the circular room, instead of looking at the trainers and starting her performance, Miyoung faces the camera and looks right at it.

            By the time Miyoung breaks all the bricks, Jooheon’s jaw is already on the floor. The trainers all watch with a sense of bewilderment, Kyulkyung, Exy, and Raina laughing uncontrollably. In the very back, Luda and Seungkwan can be spotted lying on the floor. By the time she starts hammering the nail, all of the girls are shaking with laughter. Song Jaekyung, Shin Minha, and Koo Nari all wipe tears of laughter from their eyes, Jaekyung smudging a bit of mascara. The other girl with bangs is already clapping with all of her might, admiration (or tears) making her wide eyes glisten. Yoon Saeyool is openly cackling when Miyoung shoves the lemon into , and on the other side of the room a purple-haired girl is gaping as openly as Jooheon.

            The applause is absolutely thunderous when she bows.

            Jooheon, however, is still speechless. “That’s… That’s…” he chokes.

            “He means to say that it was certainly an interesting performance. Thank you, Miyoung.” Says Exy, voice hoarse with the remnants of laughter.

            ”At least I made them laugh!” Miyoung’s grin is absolutely blinding.

            “Well, I don’t think anyone can top that, do you?” says Luda, back on her feet and only slightly disheveled.

            Seungkwan, however, is still fighting the aftershocks of his laughter fit. “No-nope! But they will certainly try!”

            And the next girl, the wide-eyed girl with bangs who clapped the hardest for Miyoung and can now be identified as Pledis’s Lee Doori, certainly tries with her introduction to the audience — going around the trainees, picking them up and spinning them like they do in the games on Weekly Idol. It leaves everyone laughing and slightly dizzy, and this time Jooheon joins in on the laughter, perhaps because it’s not a rap trainee whom he had expectations for. It’s quite impressive, actually, when Doori picks up Im Hwayoung (who is probably a head taller) and spins her around with ease, laughing excitedly. Oh Miyoung high-fives her as she sits back in her chair.

            Then it’s back to more conventional performances. The next girl to perform is the blonde-haired Shin Minha, and she brings out with her an electronic piano that she sits by and smiles brightly at the trainers. “Hello, I’m Starship Entertainment’s Shin Minha!”

            “Oh!” Exy exclaims, “It’s Minha!”

            “It sure is!” Minha winks and points a finger gun towards the other girl, “I used to take care of you, so now take care of me, trainer-nim, okay?”

            Exy and Luda start giggling, but the rest are slow to catch on. “What’s going on?” asks Raina.

            “Aah, so you know all the ins and outs of the behind the scenes,” says Kyulkyung.

            “I certainly do,” says Minha with a mysterious undertone, and Exy and Luda (as well as most of the Starship trainees in the background) giggle conspiratorially.

            Applause follow, Luda and Exy’s louder than everyone else’s.

            “When you said you used to be a manager, I did not expect you to have such a nice voice,” says Raina.

            “Playing the piano was also a nice touch,” adds Soyou, “Though it’s a shame you didn’t show us your dancing skills. There’s a difference between a singer and an idol, and even though you’ve proven to be one, it doesn’t mean you’re fit for the other.”

            Another Pledis trainee, Kim Yeojung, sings and dances smoothly to the beat of Sway. Her voice is very nice, but while her dance is smooth, it lacks the iness that one expects from Sway, though she makes up for it with enthusiasm and professionalism. Her ending pose, a swift karate kick to the camera, earns laughing and whooping from the rest of the girls.

            Then it’s back to Starship with a pink-haired Chinese girl who’s introduced as Karen Cheng. She plays the guitar and sings an acapella version of a Chinese song. Kyulkyung mouths the lyrics of the song as she goes, a gentle smile on her face.

            However, when Karen finishes, Kyulkyung is the first to reach for the mic. “Are you fluent in Korean?”

            “Yes, I’ve been here for five years already.” Says Karen.

            It’s not the answer Kyulkyung is looking for. “Why did you decide to sing a song in Chinese then?”

            “What?”

            “It would’ve been one thing if you weren’t fluent in Korean, or if you would’ve prepared a dance or a song that showcase your unique heritage, the unique Chinese culture. But you decided on covering a pop song. Can you explain the thought process behind it?”

            “Well,” stammers Karen, “I really like this song,”

            “But the task was to show the citizens what you’re capable of. They’re going to decide if you’re fit to be in a Korean girl group, and they can’t do that if you’re singing in Chinese, and without even a thoughtful reason behind it. I wonder if that’s the type of performance you want to show everyone…”

            “It- it isn’t —”

            “You should’ve thought about it beforehand. This is a competition, and only the top seven girls will prevail. Everyone is putting all of their efforts into this. Those that don’t work hard, those that don’t put all of themselves into each and every performance, are they worthy of being here?”

            Karen stumbles awkwardly back into her seat, noticeably distressed. It looks like she’s battling with herself, wanting to say something but holding back.

            There’s another performance that follows, this time from Starship’s Park Jiyoon.

            “I know her face from somewhere…” says Miyoung thoughtfully as Jiyoon prepares for her performance.

            “Isn’t she the girl from that Yoo Seungwoo-sunbaenim song?” says Yeojung.

            Hwayoung, who is sitting between them, nods. “Jiyoon-unnie has been in a bunch of music videos. Sandeul-sunbaenim also had her for his music video. She’s really freaking cute so they all like her.”

            Indeed, Jiyoon is the definition of cuteness with her apple cheeks and bangs and shy smile. Two braids fall over her shoulders cutely, making her seem even younger than she already looks. Even her voice, when she introduces herself as “Starship’s Park Jiyoon” is adorable and makes both the trainers and the trainees swoon.

            “I’ve prepared a song by Oh My Girl Banhana-sunbaenim,” she says, “But I’m going to sing the Japanese version.”

            “The Japanese version?” Soyou, like the rest of them, is quite confused. “Why?”

            “It’s important for an idol to be able to communicate with all of our fans, even international ones! I’ve been working hard on my Japanese, and I wanted to show the fruits of my hard work to you.”

            Soyou, as well as Kyulykung and Raina, nod in approval. Just before Jiyoon starts, the camera pans on Karen’s nervous face.

            “She’s so cute.” says Gyeong Aeri.

            The trainers all agree with that statement. “You’re very cute,” says Raina, “And the song you chose fits you very well. I’m not sure how you’ll perform y or girl crush songs, but for now your introduction has made a very good impression on me. Your voice is powerful, the best we’ve heard so far.”

            “And what’s also very important,” says Exy, “Is that you enjoyed your performance. You were having so much fun and we could all tell that. It makes watching it that much better. Well done.”

            In the interview room, Jiyoon squeals excitedly and hides her face between her palms.

            “Let’s see someone from Pledis, shall we?” says Hoshi. “How about Lee Choyeon?”

            The purple-haired girl stands up, her hair a vibrant contrast to her black dress. Kyulkyung watches her, and when she steps into the center of the room, she takes the mic and says, “Hi, Choyeon.”

            “Hi, unnie,” she smiles weakly at Kyulkyung.

            “Long time no see,” the trainer smiles back. To the other trainers and the confused trainees, she explains, “We used to train together — Choyeon, Youju, Saeyool, and me.”

            The camera quickly shifts to Youju and then Saeyool, both who look very intently at the purple-haired girl. Youju struggles with the trembling of her lip, and Saeyool reaches through Gyeong Aeri to clutch Youju’s hand and squeeze it.

            “They all debuted, and I was left behind,” Choyeon’s voice informs over the footage of her taking a deep breath and settling into her opening pose. “But I’ve been working hard, and I’m here to prove that I deserve to debut.”

            “My heart is beating so quickly right now,” says Kyulykung warmly, grinning from ear to ear. “You’ve improved so much since Produce 101, and it makes me remember what it was like for me to be a trainee. The growth you’ve had since we were both training is amazing, I feel like you’re an idol now.”

            Raina takes the mic next, “I remember you from when you were a small girl, Choyeon. It’s incredible to see how far you’ve come, from the little kid who ran around Pledis with Youju to who you are now.”

            Soyou, however, isn’t as encouraging with her feedback. “I disagree with Kyulkyung and Raina. You have a lot to work on both in singing and dancing. But I can see potential in you, so we’ll have to see what direction you will go and what will happen in the end.”

            Choyeon bows deeply, and as she returns back to her seat, her voice sounds one last time over the footage, “I will prove that I deserve this chance.”

            “Next!” Soyou claps her hands together, “Let’s hear some vocalists. They told me there are two vocalists that are on their own level…”

            All eyes immediately turn to Shin Ryuahn. The soloist herself remains nonchalant, sharp eyes still intense even if the signs of boredom are all evident on her face. Willowy hands outstretched, she prepares to rise from her seat, but it’s another name that gets called out first. “Pledis’s Han Eunkyung!”

            Everyone’s attention snaps from one end of the room to the other, where a woman (as she could never be described as a girl) stands up in what is no doubt the definition of grace. She looks out of place in her expensive-looking business dress, and the air of intimidation around her makes her seem untouchable, unapproachable, and ethereal.

            “She’s like the First Lady or something…” whispers Yeojung, and Jiyoon, who sits next to her, nods fervently.

            “Hello, I am Pledis’s Han Eunkyung.” She says. Even her voice is different, more mature and dignified than the rest. “And I’ve prepared an original arrangement of Blackpink’s Kill This Love. I hope you enjoy.”

            “Oh. My. God.” Is all Miyoung can say. Next to her, Doori has lost the ability to speak.

            “You said you composed it yourself?” asks Raina. Eunkyung nods. “That’s… That’s very impressive. It sounds professional.”

            “I have a bachelor's degree in Music and Composition.” She explains.

            Soyou nods in approval. “In most cases, we saw today I said that it was a poor choice not to sing and dance, but in your case, I think it was a wise decision. It would’ve taken away from the dramatics of the performance.”  

            “Such a shame you sang the rap…” murmurs Jooheon sadly.

            Eunkyung fixes him with an unimpressed stare. “I could’ve rapped it, if I wanted. It’s not a difficult rap to learn even without previous rapping experience. I felt like the effect of this rendition would’ve been lessened with a rap break, so I decided against it.”

            “Still, you could’ve made a better impression showcasing all of your skills.”

            The camera cuts to Soyou, who says, “Your vocals are very impressive, and your composing skills can come in handy in our industry.”

            Then it’s Ryuahn’s turn.

            “Ryuahn and I trained together for a bit.” Back in the circular room, Exy holds the mic. “And all the trainees used to talk about what an amazing vocalist she is. It wasn’t a surprise when she debuted a soloist. I can’t wait to see what you have in store for us!”

            Her performance is a jarring contrast to Eunkyung, devoid of a grand orchestra of instruments. Perhaps that is what makes Ryuahn’s voice stand out even more against the simple tune of the piano. Im Hwayoung starts clapping a second before the performance is over out of sheer over excitement.

            “I don’t have anything to say about your vocals other than that there are the best out of everyone here.” Says Raina.

            “I don’t know which one of you is better,” Soyou admits, “But your performance was powerful and raw. Your technique is superb but you don’t forget to let your emotions flow like some technical singers tend to do. Sitting performances, especially simple like yours, can get boring easily, but your charisma carries you through it with your facial expressions. Well done.”

            Ryuahn nods and thanks the trainers. Her face is as solemn as before, not showing even the ghost of evidence of the praise she’s just received.

            The screen puts Eunkyung and Ryuahn’s pictures back to back, with bold letters reading,

“The Battle of the Vocal Aces Will Continue”

            “Can we get some rappers again, please?” Jooheon groans, head dropping to tap lightly against the table. “Are there any rappers left?”

            Two hands begin to rise, but Hoshi quickly cuts in, “No, we’ve seen rappers not long ago, and we haven’t seen some dancers since the beginning. Let’s check some dancers out. Any left?”

            Jooheon slumps back in his chair and murmurs something that the audio doesn’t quite catch. Hoshi, smirking like a Cheshire cat, says innocently, “So, any dancers left?”

            The girl that stands up is positively stunning. She looks more like a statue than a person, porcelain skin all but glowing under the stage-lights. Her face is relatively bare, but the lack of makeup only seems to enhance what everyone sees — doe eyes, straight nose, rosy lips. Her hair falls all the way to her waist, like an obsidian-colored curtain that makes her look untouchable. The pink two-piece outfit might’ve looked silly on someone else, but somehow it does nothing to take from the beauty of this girl. It makes her look like a foreign, exotic princess.

            “Pledis really has the best visuals,” whispers Jaekyung.

            “Hello, I am Pledis’s Zhuang Jiahui,” the girl says in accented Korean. Even her voice is beautiful, deep and somber.

            “Oh! Ni hao!” says Kyulkyung excitedly. “Where are you from?”

            “I’m from Taiwan. I came to Korea two years ago.”

            “Your Korean is so good for someone who’s been here for so short!” exclaims Exy. “How are you going to introduce yourself?”

            “Because of my unique foreign heritage, I’ve prepared a Dai dance for the citizens of Planet Idol.”

            “Karen!” calls Kyulkyung the moment Jiahui’s performance is over.

            Startled, pink-haired Karen Cheng looks up.

            “See? This is exactly what I was talking about, the difference between your performance and Jiahui’s. It wasn’t a lazy way out, it was a thoughtful decision that resulted in a very unique performance. I would say you’re one of the top five memorable performances today, Jiahui.”

            The camera doesn’t show Karen’s reaction, instead focusing on the timid smile blooming on Jiahui’s face as she bows.

            “I do wonder, can you sing in Korean?” asks Soyou.

            Jiahui nods solemnly. “I can, and I work very hard on my pronunciation before every song.”

            “I guess what I’m most worried about is your low register, you low voice.” Soyou sighs, “But I guess we’ll see about that.”

            “You dance well and you’re very beautiful.” Says Hoshi, and with that the introduction round continues.

            “Hmm… let’s see, who do we have left…” Raina hums into the microphone, eyes scanning the list of names.

            The girls all look around, trying to figure out who’s left.

            “The high-profile trainees are the only ones that haven’t performed yet…” Jaekyung leans over to whisper to Minha.

            The blonde nods, “There’s Aeri,” The camera catches Gyeong Aeri’s relaxed face.

            It then switches to the sort-of-blank-sort-of-happy face of Na Hyunhee, as Jiyoon’s voice narrates, “Na Hyunhee-unnie, she was on Produce 101,”

            “Pristin,” Doori whispers over a double shot of two the ex-members of the group, “Saeyool-sunbaenim, Youju-sunbaenim,”

            “Who will be next?” reads the bold pink-and-teal text on the screen.

            “Finally, let’s see some rappers,” Jooheon’s voice is laced with desperate excitement, “Come on, some rappers.” When the two hands rise again, he calls out, “You, the one from Starship, let’s start with you.”

            The girl gets up, and a sea of whispers befalls the trainees.

            “Aeri?” says Yeojung.

            But it is not Gyeong Aeri that steps into the middle of the room.

            When the fart rap starts, there is a long second when silence stretches over the room. Seungkwan and Luda are the first that burst into hysterical laughter, clutching their stomachs in the background and failing to keep quiet like they’re supposed to. It’s as bad as with Miyoung’s performance — Exy is already crying, Jiyoon and Yeojung hold each other in a desperate attempt to keep their bodies from trembling too much from all the laughter. Miyoung whoops encouragingly and claps loudly. Then, the bbaesae comes. Jiahui stares, wide-eyed, as if she’s been exposed to a side of Korean culture she’d never wanted to see in her life. As Bongcha drops into the eagle pose and begins to flap her arms, the room is full of chaos and laughter. Only Jooheon, poor Jooheon, looks like his brain doesn’t compute what is happening, eyes watery with yet another heartbreak of the loss of a potential rapper.

            With one final finger heart, Bongcha strikes her final pose. The applause is thunderous.

            “I — I —” Jooheon can’t do anything but stammer.

            “Man, what a callback to 2015 this was. I forgot all about bbaesae,” Exy’s voice is shaky as she wipes the tears from her eyes, “I’m not even mad the rap was bad. My stomach hurts too much from laughing for that.”

            “You’ve certainly left an impression.” Hoshi laughs, “I won’t forget that dance for a while.”

            “I — I just wanted — “

            Bongcha glows as she makes her way back to her seat.

            “There, there, oppa,” Exy puts a comforting arm around Jooheon’s large shoulders. “You didn’t get the rap you wanted, you got the rap you needed.”

            “I — No.” Jooheon chokes on his own words. “You, the other rapper — Yoon Saeyool. Come up here. Please, for the love of god.”

            Saeyool stands up, but she’s not the only one.

            “Huh?”

            “What’s this?” says Raina.

            Besides Saeyool, Kim Youju smiles shyly, a blush blossoming on the apples of her cheeks.

            “One, two, three… Hello, we are Pledis’s Yoon Saeyool and Kim Youju,” they say in rehearsed unison.

            “Even the way they’re holding their mics is different…” says Yeojung.

            On the other side of the room, Miyoung seems to agree. “Look at them, truly idols.”

            And indeed, the camera tells us by closing up on the girls’ hands, the way they hold their mics is different. Angled differently, not as obscuring the mouth as — a short montage quickly tells us — the rest of them, Nari, Jiyoon, Sera, Karen…

            “This is going to be amazing.” Says Hwayoung.

            Meanwhile, Saeyool explains, “Youju and I have prepared a joint introduction.”

            “Is it even allowed?” Minha leans to whisper to Jaekyung, who simply shrugs.

            The judges, too, don’t seem to phased by it, and as Youju and Saeyool settle into their opening stance, Youju’s voice sounds over the footage, that fades dramatically into an interview segment.

            In the circular room, Kyulkyung observes everything from her elevated seat, the pain clearly evident in her tight lips and furrowed brows.

            “Saeyool, Youju, hi,” she says weakly.

            “Hi, unnie!” they say in unison again, and Youju even adds a wave. “Please judge us well!”

            “Right, you were in the same group…” says Hoshi, as if this is a piece of information he’s only now pieced together.

            “How can you even judge someone from your own group?” Exy wonders.

            “We’ve all been together through so much,” says Kyulkyung tenderly, “We’ve shared hardships, and dreams, and we’ve stood on the same stage. We were — we are sisters.”

            “During our hiatus, unnie was the only one active, she was on TV in China.” Says Saeyool. “Which means she’s a sunbae now.”

            “Our hiatus… Our disbandment…” Kyulkyung tries to find the right words, then clears and says instead, “I have very high expectations for you two, because I know what you are capable of.”

            “Yes!”

(Saeyool - rapper | Youju - vocalist)

            Kyulkyung, when she picks up the microphone, shares their feelings, as evident by her severe expression. “There is no other word for it — I’m disappointed.”

            “Honestly, you looked more like trainees than idols.” Soyou adds harshly, “It would’ve been fine have you been actual trainees. But I can’t let the same leeway to people who have performed on stage already, more than once or twice. You have worked in this career, you should know how to do it. You should be better than this.”

            “Saeyool’s rap was good. The technique was there, and you have charisma to back up your performance.  I’m pleased with you… at least I have A Rapper.” Says Jooheon. “But Youju…”

            “Youju is also a rapper.” Kyulkyung informs them.

            “You are?” Soyou asks, surprised. “Why didn’t you rap then?”

            Eyes watering, Youju lifts the microphone to her lips, stubbornly refusing to let the tears fall. “I — It’s all my fault.”

            Saeyool squeezes her hand, but Youju continues.

            “Saeyool has spent all this time practicing and working hard on her skills. But I — I dropped out of school to pursue being an idol. And during our hiatus I went back to finish high school.”

            Footage of Youju sitting on the floor of the training room appears on the screen. Surrounded by piles of books and a pen between her teeth, she pours over her notebook and writes furiously, hair falling over.

            “I spent so much time on that, and I couldn’t practice as much as I used to. As a result, my skills deteriorated. I’m not as confident in what I have to show as I was before, but Saeyool has supported me, and helped me so much… She choreographed everything and taught me everything, and I wouldn’t be standing in front of you if it wasn’t for her.”

            With a final heartwarming shot of a teary Youju and a comforting Saeyool smiling at each other, the show moves to the final two trainees that haven’t performed yet.

            “Only two left…” says Exy excitedly. “And… oh! Look at the names.”

            “Two very familiar names,” Kyulkyung agrees.

            “They’re not foreign to survival shows, I see.” Hoshi muses. “This is going to be interesting.”

            “Should we just call out the first one?” says Raina. “Gyeong Aeri?”

            Aeri — who, as we can see once again thanks to her aloof expression, doesn’t resemble Dong Bongcha as strongly as originally thought — walks up to the center and bows to the judges.

            “Hello, I am Starship’s Gyeong Aeri, and I’ve been training for eleven years.”

            “Eleven Years???” Hwayoung gasps.

            “Two years at SM Entertainment, two years at FNC Entertainment, four years at JYP Entertainment — where I was on Sixteen. The last three years I’ve been training with Starship Entertainment. My fans even have a nickname for me, the Survivor.”

            “What made you switch to Starship?” Soyou wonders.

            “After I was eliminated on Sixteen, I thought about what I should do. Eventually I decided that JYP wasn’t the right company for me. Then I was scouted by Starship and decided to become a trainee here.”

            “Will the survivor survive this survival show?” Jooheon asks into the microphone, looking smug about his (probably self-proclaimed) clever word play. “Let’s see. Please begin, Aeri.”

What starts as a normal cover performance, quickly takes a turn to the unexpected. When the bridge comes, instead of singing, Aeri starts performing various acrobatic tricks — somersaults, a series of back handsprings that force many exclaims of shock and wonder from the audience, handstands that turn into a bridge, that then turns into a slow split onto the floor that makes Miyoung cover Doori’s eyes and Hoshi’s jaw drop to the floor. It gives off more of a girl crush feel than y, perhaps thanks to the confident way in which she rolls backward and stands up effortlessly to continue with the last chorus of the song. Even though she’s slightly out of breath, a confident smile is plastered on her lips as the song comes to an end and the room breaks into a round of applause.

            “How are we supposed to compete against that?” Yeojung murmurs in bewilderment, clapping as fiercely as Jiyoon next to her. “Truly a survivor.”

            The judges are also very pleased. “You’re not the best singer or dancer that performed today, but you, without a doubt, know what makes you special and you utilize it perfectly.” Raina praises with a soft smile.

            “You remind me of my group-mate, Cheng Xiao.” Says Exy. “Your skills left me in awe.”

            Hoshi nods in agreement. “It’s very clear that you’ve been training for a very long time. You possess a level of professionalism that a lot of trainees lack, and it’s going to help you a lot both on the show and in the industry. Plus, the acrobatics were so cool.”

            Soyou is the last to talk, and even she is pleased. “You have a lot to improve when it comes to singing, and you were out of breath for the last part of the song. But because of your unique performance, it wasn’t very noticeable as we were all hooked already after your acrobatic tricks. There is an art to putting a performance, planning it to be the best and most entertaining. You showed, probably more than anyone today, that you understand it. Good job, Aeri.”

            With a beaming smile full of pride, Aeri bows to the judges and returns to her seat.

            “It will be very hard to perform after this.” Says Jooheon.

            “It’s the last performance, too. In music shows, the most anticipated acts perform last.”

            “No pressure then!” says a girl brightly, standing up.

            The camera cuts to a thin yet undeniable feminine silhouette, dark and mysterious, with the first notes of the music playing teasingly.

            The girls gasp, one after the other, all shell shocked.

            “It’s —”

            “It is!”

            “Woah!”

            Who is the mysterious final alien on the ship to Planet Idol!?

            It rewinds a few minutes earlier, to an exclaiming Kyulkyung, “Oh! It’s unnie!”

            “No, no, dear trainer Jieqiong-sunbae, it’s Hyunnie.” Says Starship’s Na Hyunhee before it cuts to her interview.

            “Woah! I loved the feel of this!” says Kyulkyung excitedly. “Your voice has always been a favorite of mine, unnie, and I think it got even better over the years!”

            “I certainly love you,” adds Exy.

            “You could’ve found a better place to cut the song. It did end kind of abruptly in my opinion,” says Jooheon.

            “So did my early career!” Hyunhee points out cheerfully, earning a loud snort from Luda and Sungkwan’s mics.

            With a quick recap of the performances flashing on the screen, large bold letters inform us:

            The twenty aliens have introduced themselves to us. But — the difficult part is only beginning!

            “You’ve all made your first impressions on the citizens of Planet Idol,” says Soyou as the camera pans in on the listening girls. “But this wasn’t just your introduction. It was also your first task.”

            The girls all gasp, shocked, and the camera zooms in on Hwayoung, whose face especially is morphed into absolute horror.

            “Now, do you remember what we said about missions and rounds?”

            “Winners get rewards!” Minha says loudly.

            “That’s right!” Raina nods, “And today’s reward will be a benefit that will help you tremendously in the next round. But before we tell you what it is, the winners.”

            “There are four contestants who we think were the best at completing the task we gave you.” Says Kyulkyung. “The first one is… Gyeong Aeri.”

            Everyone nods, as if it was expected, and Aeri bows the trainers.

            “You’ve made a very good first impression on us, and you’ve shown your skills very well and established yourself as a very strong contestant on the show.” Kyulkyung explains. “You didn’t focus on one of your skills, but created a performance that showcased them all, and that’s exactly what we expect in an idol. Good job.”

            “Now, for the second winner,” Exy claps her hands, “It’s… Oh Miyoung!”

            Miyoung lets out a surprised yell, quickly covering .

            ”What!?” even in her interview she is still shocked.

            “Out of everyone today, you’ve made the strongest first impression on us all.” Exy says. “And you remembered that being an idol isn’t just about singing and dancing. We’re not just singers, we’re entertainers. That’s what it means to be an idol.”

            “Thank you so much!” there are tears of joy in Miyoung’s eyes, and she bows so deeply her buns touch the ground. “Oh my gosh, I really didn’t expect this!”

            “And now, someone else who has made the best first impression in our opinion…” says Soyou with a dramatic pause that gives the camera enough time to show the various tense faces of the girls. “Are Yoon Saeyool and Kim Youju.”

            No one expects this, not even Saeyool and Youju themselves if their gaping jaws are any indicator. There is a murmur of discontent, but Soyou is quick to explain the trainers’ decision. “You two have already realized the fundamental truth of Planet Idol, and I want everyone to listen to me closely now. This isn’t your regular survival show. It’s not every girl for herself. Your rank, as long as you end up in the final lineup, doesn’t matter. We’re not choosing here seven individual girls, we’re choosing a girl group. Try to do this alone, and you will quickly find yourself cast aside. Teamwork and comradeship are just as important in a girl group as your skills. Yes, Saeyool and Youju’s performance wasn’t as good as some of the others’s. Yes, there are contestants that are better, more skilled. But they know the value of teamwork, unlike the rest of you.”

            Saeyool and Youju bow to the trainers, before Luda and Sungkwan walk to the center of the room.

            Luda looks mischievously at the girls, before turning straight to the camera and grinning almost wickedly, “Now, shall we tell you about the first task?”