Chapter 408 |
Side Story (25)
[LEE CHISE’S POV]
“Hmm.”
Leaving aside the featuring, Hyung looked at me with an expression that clearly said, Is this guy serious?
“…Did Seo Yuseong turn you down?” “No?”
When I shook my head at his question without even a hint of a smile, Hyung rubbed the back of his neck and opened his bloodshot eyes wide, as if he’d started wondering whether he was hallucinating. At the time, he was so busy that he barely slept, living off coffee and cigarettes, so it wasn’t an entirely unreasonable suspicion.
“…Me?” “Yeah. You, hyung.”
In hip-hop survival programs, it’s customary to bring in another rapper as a featured guest. The other option is to recruit a vocalist with outstanding singing ability who can enrich the track.
So, he seemed unable to understand why I’d want to bring him along, given that he wasn’t particularly well-versed in hip-hop nor did he possess top-tier vocal skills like Seo Yuseong.
“……”
I couldn’t tell if Hyung was lost in thought or just dozing off with his eyes open, as he just kept puffing out clouds of acrid smoke. Then, after a short while, he answered simply.
“Sure.”
For someone who looked so conflicted, it was a surprisingly easy yes.
Later, when I asked him why he’d agreed back then, he replied bluntly, “Why else? You said you wanted to, so I let you.”
Thinking back on that answer, I couldn’t help but feel that the reason our members all turned out like this somehow traced back to him.
‘Looking at the state he’s in, you’d think Hyung was the one competing, not me. I had no idea he’d be that busy.’
He didn’t look like he was in great condition, and for a moment I wondered if I shouldn’t have asked him at all.
Meanwhile, thanks to the agency clearing my schedule to an almost unnecessary degree under the excuse of “focus on the competition so you don’t tarnish Prism’s reputation”, I ended up living days that were more relaxed and healthier than usual.
“You look pretty relaxed, don’t you?” “Yeah, I guess I am.”
I slept enough, ate well, hung out, and worked a bit whenever I felt like it.
I heard the other contestants were pulling all-nighters to prepare, but I didn’t really feel the need to do the same.
‘I don’t know why, but I keep feeling so bored…….’
That was part of why I wanted to bring hyung onto the stage.
How should I put it … to me, Hyung is someone who makes things fun as long as he’s around.
Desperation and a sense of crisis are great catalysts for growth. But throughout filming this program, I never once felt those emotions.
Everyone was acting like it was such a big deal that I joined out of curiosity, but it turned out to be much easier than I expected.
And that wasn’t limited to this program alone.
[“Obviously, Lee Chise is going to win. I mean, there’s the fan vote and all that ……. I guess I was just unlucky to come out in the same season as him.”] [“No, but seriously, just watching Lee Chise rap makes me feel speechless. He’s too good. He goes crazy up there like he’s possessed, so what am I even supposed to do about that?”]
A suffocating boredom had always settled deep into my life.
It was a bit different from the mere arrogance of thinking, ‘I’m so great there’s no one better than me’. I’d been like this since I was young. No matter what I did, I was better than my peers, and if it was something I actually liked, the gap only grew wider.
No matter where I went or what I did, once I saw opponents lose their fighting spirit before I’d even started trying, all the energy would drain out of me in an instant. I’d just think, ‘Ah, that’s enough.‘
‘Why doesn’t anyone ever see things through to the end? Even if you lose, you have to give it your all to actually improve, don’t you?‘
The world is big, and there are plenty of talented people out there.
I’m still just a frog in a well who hasn’t met them yet.
Meeting the Prism members made me realize that, which was why I tried stepping into a wider world, but this outing seemed to have ended in failure. I felt sorry for my competitors, but I even started to feel like I was wasting my time.
‘…If it was going to be like this, I should’ve just stayed with the members. That would’ve been way more fun.’
When I played the final competition track I’d prepared with those thoughts still lingering, this was Hyung’s reaction.
“Is this really going to be enough?” “Probably. Even the producer was all excited, saying that at this level, the win is already in the bag. Why? Is there a problem?” “The quality’s definitely good. It’s got that ‘as expected of Lee Chise’ kind of feel …… it’s good enough to be a b-side on one of our albums.” “Then there’s no issue, right?” “Well, yeah. You’ll win pretty safely. There’s nothing wrong with going as-is. At the end of the day, it’s your choice.”
After muttering those cryptic words, Hyung listened to the track one more time Then he glanced at my perfectly composed face and asked, sounding genuinely curious.
“Did you join that program just for this?” “What?” “You look like you’re having absolutely zero fun, you.”
I didn’t think I’d made it that obvious, but it felt like he’d seen straight through me.
‘Fun? Of course I’m not having any.’
I’d given up on the tension and pressure that are supposed to define survival programs a long time ago.
Because there were no competitors left for me here anymore.
All that remained was familiar boredom.
A wave of frustration clogged my throat. I wanted to complain, but it felt too indulgent to ask someone to understand these ungrateful feelings. As I just opened and closed my mouth, Hyung let out a short yawn and spoke up nonchalantly.
“You’re the one who asked me to perform on that stage with you.”
The moment I heard that, it felt like I’d been smacked in the back of the head. My head cleared instantly.
I had forgotten that right here, by my side, was someone who could take everything I threw at them and accept it fully.
That was the reason I’d chosen this group in the first place.
Even in this situation, my hyung was pushing me to grow.
It was as if he were saying, ‘Your opponent is right here, so where the hell are you looking?’
I immediately pulled an all-nighter and started writing a brand-new song.
The producers tried to stop me, saying it was insane to overhaul the track this late in the game, but I refused to back down. As I worked, my heart raced so hard that I didn’t feel sleepy at all.
And then, the day of the final stage arrived.
“Wooooah!”
They say that when you’re fully prepared, you don’t feel nervous, you feel excited.
I don’t know if I can say I was well prepared. I had to redo the stage in such a short amount of time, after all. Still, a pleasant thrill wrapped around my entire body, like the flutter you feel right before giving someone a gift.
Standing on the pitch-dark stage, I slowly drew in a breath and opened my mouth, without any accompaniment.
[“Seo Yutae once said”]
As I deliberately delivered the familiar opening line with a playful grin, laughter and cheers burst from the audience. The line had gone viral after my diss battle and turned into a catchphrase, so I figured it’d be fun to use it one more time.
I closed my eyes, wiped the smile off my face, and started rapping again.
[“If you just close your eyes and steady your breath Everything will pass
When I think about the people I have to protect I somehow manage to endure”]
As a soft piano accompaniment began to follow, I locked eyes with Hyung, who was waiting backstage. For a brief moment, he made an expression like he’d taken a clean hit.
‘Keeping the lyrics hidden from him until the end was worth it.’
The moment I saw that expression, I couldn’t help it, I got as giddy as a little kid, eyes crinkling.
[“Accept the public’s gaze on us with humility But don’t hold onto barbed words that tear yourself apart
I know that’s the right answer, but it never works out the way your heart wants it to
I’ve failed more than a few times too I’d even pull out the knife stuck in me and swing it back again
But somehow, when I stand in front of my dongsaengs I end up saying those same things to them Guess it can’t be helped, this is how we survive”]
And for good reason. Hyung must have thought I’d prepared a performance that would completely overshadow him. He likely thought I should use this chance to finally shake off the ‘Seo Yutae’s‘ label.
[“He told me that once I reached the top, I shouldn’t look back down
Because everyone’s idol isn’t allowed to waver Because I’m the leader, because I’m the eldest Because I have to be the one you lean on at any moment
I’m just the third-oldest But the weight sits heavy on my shoulders”]
But instead of treating him like a rival, I chose to do the complete opposite.
I chose to lay bare the admiration and gratitude I’d always held for my hyung.
[“Can you hear my voice? You’re always so quiet, I’m afraid you might be drowning alone”]
‘The producer told me to put my honest feelings into the lyrics.’
I thought that was the only way this song could truly carry my sincerity.
There were, of course, countless things that happened on Prism’s journey to the top.
But I didn’t want to pour all our hardships and struggles into the lyrics just to complain about how hard it had been.
[I still don’t know When will I ever be strong like you, hyung
Even with the title of legendary idol, a great senior When I stand in front of you, I still feel like a little child
When will I ever be strong enough to protect us?]
Hyung never really liked songs that were just long laments about one’s hard life. He said everyone has a story, and you shouldn’t waste time drowning in self-pity.
And yet, the truth is that he himself lived a life harsher and more precarious than anyone else’s.
The rappers here spill their wounds every other day, bound by grudges over the poverty and deprivation they lived through. So why do you have to be so stubbornly foolish, hyung? Why do you fight so hard to hide your weakness, even from us who’ve been by your side for so long?
[“But sometimes I wonder Then who do you lean on, hyung? Is this the weight everyone has to bear to stand at the top?
Can you hear my voice? It feels like you’re always trying to endure everything alone
This is a song for you, hyung.”]
The accompaniment cut off abruptly, and all the lights on the long stage went out.
Just as a new beat with a completely different vibe started to flow, I raised the microphone.
[“Let me hear your voice, my man!”]
Right on cue with my shout, a pin light snapped on at the very center of the stage.
Then, from beyond the closed doors, a low voice resonated.
[“Yes, we are Prism”]
As a figure emerged through the smoke effects, the audience clapped hands over their mouths and erupted into cheers.
Everyone had hoped for it from the moment they heard I’d be joining, but no one truly believed that someone of his stature would actually show up on a program like this.
The cameras captured the crowd’s excitement at the appearance of Seo Yutae.
“WAAAAAAH!”
People probably don’t realize this. When thousands of people cheer at the same time, a wave of heat hits the stage so hard it literally makes it hard to breathe.
Seo Yutae was someone often described as a walking disaster in this industry.
And this was a spectacle worthy of that label.
“Holy shit, it’s Seo Yutae. He actually showed up here. I’ve got chills.”
“PRISM! PRISM! PRISM!”
Every time the crowd jumped, vibrations rippled through the floor, traveling from my feet all the way up to the hand gripping my microphone. Just as the euphoria threatened to overwhelm my senses, I turned around, and there he was. Seo Yutae, exactly as everyone had imagined.
Tall frame, with hair falling all the way to his waist. Tattoos that still showed through faintly despite being taped up for broadcast standards. The lights pouring in from behind left only his silhouette visible, yet everyone knew exactly who he was: Seo Yutae.
That was just how much of an icon Seo Yutae was to the public.
[“Don’t be afraid I’m always here”]
Hyung sang with one hand holding the mic and the other shoved into his pants pocket. For someone who normally used his body so expressively, staying that still was obviously intentional.
Because Hyung has a presence that commands the room just by standing there.
[“The responsibility weighing me down, I welcome it gladly”]
Something felt off.
The lyrics I’d given him were clearly ‘The responsibility weighing me down is sometimes heavy.’ But the voice ringing clearly through my in-ear monitors was reciting the opposite. He was rewriting the lyrics in real-time, as if he were giving me a direct answer to my rap.
(But I can’t break down That wouldn’t suit us)
[“Such things can’t break me Because I always believe in you”]
When the audience realized that the lyrics on the screen didn’t match what Hyung was actually singing, and that every bit of it was intentional, they erupted into screams.
[“I can hear your voice Even if there are times I can’t hear it clearly, please hold on to me”]
Stunned, I stared at my hyung, who shone brighter than anyone else on the stage. He slowly walked over to me and draped a firm arm around my shoulders.
The weight of it was unbelievably reassuring.
‘This hyung really…….’
Overwhelmed by the surge of emotion, I buried my face in my hands.
When I finally looked up, guided by the nonchalant way he patted my head, I saw the live voting numbers skyrocketing past their limits. I also caught sight of my opponent, the other finalist, clutching his head in despair at Seo Yutae’s appearance.
He looked like he already sensed his defeat, but I didn’t care about that anymore.
There was only one person in my sight.
Turning my back to the audience packed with countless people, I looked at Hyung and smiled.
[“Can you hear my voice? Don’t forget that I’m right behind you”]
Everyone seems to have misunderstood something. I never once wanted to shake off the ‘Seo Yutae’s‘ label.
Breaking free? That’s not what I’m after at all.
[“I hear your voice We’re going to be together forever”]
Yes, this was me showing it off.
My pride. My role model.
My idol, Seo Yutae.
[END OF LEE CHISE’S POV]
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Translator’s Corner:
This is #FAMILY
no but Prism is a real group I would definitely bury my bones in their fandom
Oh right, this is the end of this arc. We’ll see Yutae’s other kids in the next arc
Anyway, I dont usually watch SMTM (I only watch Unpretty Rapstar because women >>>>), but if you’re looking for similiar legendary stage, watch this