Enjoy the Magic. ETM.
It was a group composed of seven talented young men—A popular fourth-generation K-pop boy group that shook the world with their debut three years ago during the global pandemic.
The group was the unexpected product of a failed idol survival program. Yet they immediately rose in popularity, backed by the biggest K-pop company in the country.
Thanks to being the "sons" of an entertainment giant, they quickly became legends—earning the Rookie of the Year award just three weeks after debut, the only rookie group in history to achieve such a feat.
Following that, they consistently produced hits, amassed a substantial following, and made it clear to everyone that they were here to stay and reign.
They won dozens of first-place trophies in various music shows—impressive, considering the general public favored girl groups. They broke records, collected awards from major year-end ceremonies, and built a reputation as one of the most unstoppable forces in K-pop.
Three years after debut, they had secured their place in the top three of their generation and within the top ten of all currently active boy groups. Many predicted they would be strong contenders for K-pop supremacy in the years to come, once the reigning K-pop Kings stepped down.
In short, ETM was a group brimming with potential. Their future looked brilliant, and in the K-pop world, each member's name shone like a star—envied by idols from groups with less fame.
So…
"I don't understand this…" A trembling voice murmured softly.
Park Seo-jun—or simply Jun—a member of ETM, stared blankly at the digital display above the conference room door.
One moment, he had been practicing as usual. The next, he was suddenly here. Nothing made sense. A strong wave of dislike and dissonance washed over him. Where is this? He knew it was normal to feel drained after exhausting rehearsals, but this dizziness felt far from normal.
The giant screens surrounding the spacious room displayed a glowing negative number:
-4
Below it, in small text, was the date and time.
May 25, 2020.
With loud background music filling the air, it took nearly a full minute for Jun to escape the haze. His breathing turned erratic.
In front of him stood a stage, where three nervous boys waited.
May 25, 2020? How?
Jun almost laughed in disbelief, shaking his head slowly. His eyes roamed, and he realized he was seated among several casually dressed, handsome youths—faces he recognized. Some exchanged glances, others hesitantly raised their hands.
It took him only seconds to recall this exact moment. After all, this was one of the most nerve-racking experiences of his youth—when he was eighteen.
Yet… that was the problem. Jun had been eighteen three years ago.
Was he dreaming of the not-so-distant past?
The sharp pain of his pinch shattered that thought. Panic gripped him. His heart thundered in his chest, nearly drowning out the unsettling BGM echoing across the room. The cold metal of the armrest beneath his hand felt too vivid to be imaginary.
What the hell is happening?
"…That person is quite good." With a sigh, the boy beside him raised his hand to vote.
Jun winced from another painful pinch. His face was pale, though the dim lighting concealed it.
His seatmate's words finally registered.
"Jun, I think that guy named Hyeon-ju is someone we should watch out for."
Years ago, his seatmate—and future bandmate—Juwon, had said the same thing.
Jun nodded to avoid seeming out of place.
In his foggy mind, memories began to return. The participants, the stage, the atmosphere—everything was exactly the same as that day years ago. The only difference was him.
"Jun. Look." Juwon tapped his shoulder, pointing toward the LED display on their right.
"From -4 to -5," he muttered.
Wordlessly, Jun followed his gaze. His instincts screamed that cameras were on him. He needed to act natural. But how could he, when his hands trembled uncontrollably?
There was no emcee on stage. In fact, the emcee was nowhere to be seen. Only earlier had a disembodied voice greeted them, instructing them to perform and evaluate each other.
The hall was vast but eerily empty. No assistants. No staff. No judges. No one to set up equipment or provide guidance. Everything was left to the participants.
After each performance, there were no expert critiques. No points. Only the raised hands of fellow contestants.
The tense atmosphere twisted their judgment, forcing them to evaluate peers subjectively under pressure.
Jun let out a shaky breath.
This is definitely BOI.
Best of Idols. BOI. The survival program that had aired during the pandemic.
The ratings were poor, due to timing and format, but the show continued regardless—fueled by sponsors eager to spend.
Jun glanced around. Beside him was Juwon, ETM's future visual and lead rapper. Four seats away sat Sujin, the center and main vocalist. On stage was Hyeon-ju, the soon-to-be lead vocalist.
Further right sat Min, the future leader, next to Neo, the group's most famous member and main dancer. Lastly, Xavier—or Xavi, as he preferred—was seated three chairs away, hand still raised.
A middle-aged man's voice echoed from hidden speakers after the last performers exited.
"Congratulations, participants, for completing today's stages. Regardless of the results, you have taken the first step toward your dream. And remember—no one is more admirable than those who dare to chase their dreams."
The boys bowed in confusion, unsure where the voice came from.
Jun kept his eyes fixed on the giant monitor.
"Now, the seventeen participants who qualified through your own voting process, please proceed to the elevator. It will take you to the Promised Garden. As for those who did not qualify, don't worry. Your journey is not yet over. Please exit through the small door behind you."
The mood soured instantly. Tears broke out among some, while others smiled in relief.
Seven had failed to secure twelve votes.
Jun watched in silence as seven dejected teens filed out the back door, faces marked by tears or shadowed with gloom.
Nobody liked losing—especially in a survival show where failure often meant little screen time, if not outright elimination. But they had no choice; the emcee urged them to move.
"Jun, let's go."
Juwon tapped his shoulder and followed the others toward the elevator. Jun finally remembered: he and Juwon had passed easily thanks to their skills and early performance slot.
"Okay." His voice cracked—it sounded younger than he was used to.
When he glanced at the BOI logo while retrieving his bag, his eyes wavered with doubt and hesitation. Then, he followed the others, who had seemingly turned back time along with him.
Jun wasn't sure if he was in his right mind.
With each step, he whispered a desperate prayer.
Please…This isn't real.Please, let this be a dream.
…
That night, after moving into their assigned accommodations, Jun still prayed it was just a dream.
But the next morning, he awoke in the same bed he had once occupied as a contestant.
In other words, he was still in BOI—back to being a trainee fighting for debut.