The projection disappeared, but the number remained.
Tenth.
Third in the vocal semifinal. Tenth in projected popularity.
Around me, chairs scraped and contestants murmured. Three rows ahead, Jisoo turned, searching the hall. When he caught my eye, he offered a tentative smile.
His name had appeared above the debut cutoff. I tried to smile back. It was ridiculous to resent a number on a screen, especially when I was genuinely happy for him.
But I had spent so long chasing the next evaluation that I had never considered what it would feel like to reach the finale and discover I was still outside the line.
Doyun rose from his seat. "It's Day Two," he said. "If the results were decided already, why bother holding a finale?"
He was right. The graphic was an estimate, not an official ranking. Still, I could practically see the number whenever I blinked.
"Please remain seated," PD Kwon announced.
The hall quieted.
