The Goal is the Ending Fairy

– Chatter and murmur

The practice room buzzed with the constant hum of trainee voices.

HON Entertainment’s smallest practice room was packed with a considerable number of trainees today.

“……”

I, too, was among them, crouched in a corner.

Watching them gather in small groups, whispering to one another, I confirmed what I had only suspected until now.

‘They’re avoiding sitting next to me.’

The gap that surrounded me, no one daring to sit nearby… was all too obvious.

I thought this character had been a trainee for at least half a year, so I figured there might be a few close friends among the trainees.

In reality, whenever I greeted them, most replied with half-hearted mumbles like, “Uh… hi” or “Yeah…”.

Sometimes, not even that. Somehow, it felt like they just weren’t interested in me.

‘I can’t say I blame them.’

The reason was clear enough.

Just look at my charm and likability stats.

At this level, I might as well be invisible, not just as an idol, but as a human being in general.

Maybe that’s why, whenever someone caught me looking their way, they’d silently turn their head.

Still, isn’t this invisible person treatment a bit much?

Feeling awkward, I crossed my arms over my knees and rested my chin on them, letting out a soft sigh…

-Thud

Suddenly, someone plopped down next to me.

“Dan-ah! You’re participating this time too, right?”

“Huh?”

“I’m so glad! I really wanted to be on the show with you.”

Who are you?

I barely swallowed the question that almost slipped out. Instead, I glanced at the person now sitting beside me.

“…Huh?”

But as soon as our eyes met, I quickly looked away from the trainee smiling warmly at me.

She sat so close now that our shoulders touched, continuing to make conversation.

“The first filming is coming up soon. Aren’t you nervous? I heard they’re revealing the first mission today…”

“Uh… y-yeah.”

“But I’m really happy to be doing this with you.”

She smiled again, her eyes crinkling.

Looking at that clear, radiant smile, I almost had the illusion that the room had brightened around us.

Yet, something about her face tugged at my memory. It felt oddly familiar, and that had been bothering me for a while.

‘Have I met her somewhere before?’

I brushed the thought aside quickly.

‘…Nah, no way.’

A face like that? I would’ve remembered if I had ever seen it in reality.

Still, I tried to recall if I had seen her among celebrities or even in passing acquaintances, but nothing clicked. I was certain this was my first time meeting her.

So why?

Why did this girl, who was clearly a stranger, feel so familiar to me?

“Oh? Hi, Hee-jo unnie.”

“Hi.”

Even her name, which I overheard by chance, rang a bell.

Hee-jo? That name… I’ve definitely heard it before.

While she seemed to be friendly with other trainees unlike me, I internally searched through all my memories.

Hee-jo… Hee-jo…

‘Ah!’

I remembered, ‘Yoon Hee-jo’.

It didn’t take much thought to connect the dots.

A trainee I met in the game. A name that felt oddly familiar. What did it mean?

It meant she was a character I’d seen in my previous playthrough.

And I remembered exactly who she was.

An idol who had been a rival to our group. Specifically, a member of the group led by the player who had been my in-game rival.

That was Yoon Hee-jo.

I was certain of it. We’d faced off so many times that I had practically memorized the “Group Introduction” that appeared on the standby screen.

How could I forget the names of those I had such a fierce rivalry with?

Her face had seemed familiar, and now I knew why. She looked exactly like the character from the game, down to the smallest details. She was identical.

And if that was the case…

‘This is a huge hint.’

Isn’t it? In my last playthrough, she was already an idol. But here, now, she was still a trainee at HON Ent.

What does this mean? It’s highly likely she’ll debut as a member through this program.

If that’s the case, she’s essentially slated for debut…. Naturally, wouldn’t it be advantageous to be on friendly terms with her?

Having reached that conclusion, I stopped subtly pulling away from Yoon Hee-jo.

Instead, I moved closer, taking the seat right next to her.

She raised an eyebrow, confused by my sudden approach, but the confusion didn’t last long.

Soon enough, she was giggling, talking about how much she’d missed me during the time we hadn’t seen each other.

As for me, I just played along, tuning out the unnecessary chatter as best I could.

“Is everyone here?”

A bit later, the door burst open, and in walked the manager I had met yesterday.

She was the person everyone had been waiting for, the one who had gathered all the trainees.

‘As I said, tomorrow is the first filming where we’ll reveal the mission, so don’t be late! It’s just an explanation, so don’t be too nervous~ Fighting!’

Just as she had mentioned to me the day before, she was here for the first broadcast filming.

Reflecting on her words from yesterday, I still found it ridiculous. Giving notice just the day before, even for a supplementary member… it was absurd.

The manager counted the trainees on her fingers and nodded in satisfaction.

“Alright, kids! We’re heading to practice room 1 now, where all the cameras are set up. So everyone…”

The explanation that followed was nothing special. It was mostly about being careful with our words and actions since everything would be caught on camera.

Only after the manager had repeated her warnings several times were we finally allowed to head to practice room 1.

“Line up in order, kids! We’re about to start filming.”

The trainees crowded near the entrance to the practice room.

The manager and staff formed us into a single file, coordinating through their earpieces. As I glanced around, my eyes accidentally met Yoon Hee-jo’s, who was standing right behind me.

She didn’t look away. Instead, she lowered her head slightly.

“Are you nervous?” she whispered, covering her mouth with her hand. Judging by her concerned expression, she seemed worried about me.

It appeared she had mistaken my constant glancing around for nervousness.

When I reassured her that I was fine, Yoon Hee-jo relaxed, a gentle smile spreading across her face.

That relaxed face was also smiling.

‘She’s surprisingly generous with her smiles, isn’t she?’

Every time she looked at me, she wore such a bright expression, that’s the impression I got.

“Alright, let’s go in one by one.”

One of the staff members, who had been quietly whispering with the manager, gave the signal. 

The trainee at the front opened the door and stepped in, with the rest following in line.

Everyone obediently formed the queue, just as instructed earlier.

I, too, stood somewhere in the middle, my eyes looking around, taking everything in.

A few staff members crouched in corners, trying to stay out of sight. Five or six cameras were scattered around, capturing every moment. It was really starting to feel like a proper filming set.

About five minutes passed like that.

>>> [Important!]: ‘Main Event’ START!

⇨ Succeed in debuting through the debut survival show conducted by HON Entertainment!

>> ⌛ D-0 EVENT START!

Suddenly, a screen window popped up in front of me, unbidden. At the same time, the practice room door swung open wide.

The CEO of HON Entertainment, followed by position-specific judges, entered the room.

“Hello!”

“Yes.”

“Hi~”

The CEO and his entourage greeted the bowing trainees in return, their presence commanding immediate attention.

They headed to the pre-arranged seats of honor, exuding a charisma that filled the room. 

The intense gazes of these impressive adults made the trainees around me visibly more nervous.

It felt like I could almost hear the collective gulp of anxiety.

Amidst the tension, I remained calm, my gaze shifting to the central seat.

Park Jae-geon, the CEO of HON Entertainment.

Thanks to some quick research online yesterday, I recognized him instantly.

For a moment, he flipped through the list of participants, setting the mood, before finally speaking.

“Hello, kids.”

At his direct greeting, the trainees bowed again in unison.

“Do you know why you’re gathered here?”

‘Of course we do.’

‘After giving us such a big hint, now he’s using these obvious broadcast-ready lines…’

I chuckled inwardly, especially since I had only been selected the day before filming.

After a brief pause, one of the trainees cautiously raised their hand.

“We heard you’re forming a new group.”

“That’s right. The company is going to launch a new girl group this time, but we haven’t exactly decided on the group name or the number of members yet.”

‘So they’re just going to figure it out as they go along?’

I had heard rumors that launching this new group was urgent, but it was clear the process was hastily thrown together. It felt a lot like how things played out in the game.

Oddly enough, I couldn’t recall the group’s name. I remembered some of the members, like Yoon Hee-jo, but the name itself escaped me.

‘The group that competed so fiercely with the idols I raised… and yet I can’t recall the name I must’ve seen a hundred times?’

It seemed contradictory, even to me, but it was an undeniable blank spot in my memory, and frustrating at that.

Still, the group name wasn’t all that important. As long as it wasn’t something too bizarre, it didn’t matter.

‘No, I’ll have to debut even if the group name is terrible…’

Realizing my situation, I tuned back into the CEO’s explanation.

““However, the keyword for this new group is ‘light.’ So, the program’s title has become .”

Hmm. The title wasn’t bad. It conveyed the program’s purpose well enough.

Probably something like ‘We’ll find the trainee who shines the brightest.’ That kind of nuance.

“It’s obvious, but the people with the best results will debut, right? The important thing is, there’s also an elimination system.”

“!!”

The trainees stirred at the mention of eliminations.

As for me, I had already expected this after hearing it from the manager yesterday.

The word ‘survival’ alone implied the need to mentally prepare for eliminations.

I mean, show me a survival show without eliminations, especially in a debut program.

Though, to be fair, outright mid-program eliminations might be less common in an in-house debut show like this. 

Usually, they’d split the participants into two teams or form a top team from the start, offering them benefits. But with so many of us here, that wasn’t really an option.

It made sense. The elimination system was likely set up to weed out those who clearly didn’t fit without giving them further chances.

Besides, ‘eliminations’ also ramp up the tension, making everyone more desperate to succeed. It adds to the drama, like overcoming the sadness of a teammate’s elimination to move forward. 

Perfect for a TV narrative.

“Elimination?”

“Gasp, they said there’s elimination…”

“So if we don’t do well, we can’t move on to the next mission?”

“Looks like there’s no room for mistakes…”

The murmurs of anxiety spread quickly among the trainees.

In reality, we had all been briefed about this beforehand, but we were instructed by the staff to act surprised, as if hearing it for the first time.

“I’m warning you,” the CEO continued, “this first mission will be the only one without eliminations. But don’t be too nervous!”

I widened my eyes appropriately, playing along with the others.

‘Don’t be nervous?’ After saying something as nerve-wracking as that? Ridiculous. But the CEO continued, seemingly oblivious to the tension he was stirring up.

“…so, the first stage you need to show in this survival is…”

‘They’re going to drag this out on the broadcast, aren’t they?’

“It’s individual capability. Just show about one verse each of your vocals and dance. Rapper friends, you can replace vocals with rap if you prefer.”

The mission was clear: demonstrate your individual talent. 

They wanted to see what we could each bring to the table; our skills, our presence in front of the camera.

It was the perfect way to introduce us to the viewers while giving them a taste of our abilities. 

A well-planned mission for a debut show.

But that wasn’t the end.

“And additionally,” the CEO’s voice cut through the room again, “we’re going to film a ‘self-PR video.’”