Jun hoped he was merely dreaming—just a terrible nightmare. But when the night passed and he woke up in the same bed assigned to him, reality crashed in. He was still in BOI, still a contestant clawing for a debut spot.
After showering absentmindedly, a face full of despair stared back at him in the mirror.
"Arghh! I don't want this!"
He couldn't understand why he had regressed. Was this even possible? If miracles existed, why grant them to someone who had never asked?
Jun couldn't say his idol life had been without regrets, but it wasn't bad either. ETM was wildly successful—selling out stadiums at home and abroad, adored by countless fans. There had been no major discord among the members. His life had been full: family, friends, fans, property. Why strip it all away? Was there a way back?
"Heh… this is insane."
He had already lost count of how many times he'd shaken his head in denial. It felt like punishment, as though some divine being had sent him back in time. Yet he couldn't recall committing any sin that deserved such wrath. And if his crime was not believing in God, weren't there millions of other unbelievers and agnostics in the world? So why him?
A knock sounded at the bathroom door. Jun sighed, splashed water over his face one last time, and stepped out.
"You done?"
Juwon was waiting. They were from the same company and trainee batch, so they had been paired for the unit performance—and now even shared a room in the Greenhouse.
"Yeah." Jun forced a smile, raising both thumbs, though his eyes darted away.
Juwon lifted a brow. "You look exhausted."
Jun laughed awkwardly. "Couldn't sleep well. Maybe I'm too excited… or just missing my bed at home."
His cheeks lacked color, but he didn't stutter. Years of idol experience had taught him how to lie about his health with a straight face. Even when they weren't okay, idols always said they were.
"We signed up for this," Juwon shrugged, then grinned. "Don't tell me you're backing out because you can't handle homesickness."
"Let's just eat." Jun sighed. Being eighteen again, he struggled to respond naturally to Juwon, who, in the future, would harden into an introvert known as an "iceberg." Right now, though, he was unexpectedly easygoing.
Twenty minutes later, Jun, Juwon, and ten others sat in a circle in the Greenhouse's grand hall. The space was lavish, its décor styled like a European royal garden—much larger than the hall they had been in yesterday.
Only twelve remained. Yesterday, after the seventeen qualifiers toured the Greenhouse, a vote was held. Brutally, five were expelled by their fellow trainees and sent to the Barren Land, a smaller building for failures.
"Twenty-four dreamers have gathered, but only seven will have their dreams come true," the voice from the speaker reminded them. "Now, twelve of you remain in the Greenhouse, closer to achieving your debut."
"How are you feeling, dear Greenhouse Inhabitants?"
Silence.
Jun knew why. Even having lived through it once before, he still hated the cruel format. Survival shows weren't pure victories—someone's dream was always crushed for another's to rise.
The Barren Land is the sharpest contrast—luxury for some, despair for the rest, he thought grimly.
"The place… It's amazing," Neo spoke hesitantly, his Korean halting. "But I wish… I could stay here with… with Jo."
Neo, the youngest and most popular ETM member in Jun's past life, looked nothing like the confident idol he would become. Right now, he was just an insecure kid, clinging to his friends for a sense of security, especially translation help.
One by one, others voiced their thoughts—praising the Greenhouse or missing those in the Barren Land. Jun stayed quiet, observing.
Then the MC's voice returned. "The producers have heard your opinions, dear Inhabitants. Now it is time to clarify the rules. To remain in the Greenhouse, you must prove yourselves—through skill, wit, and charm."
Everyone nodded. Of course, their place here would depend on performance.
"Look at the monitor in front of you."
Lyrics flashed on the screen, split into numbered parts. At the same time, the theme song began to play.
Some participants closed their eyes to absorb it; others whispered in awe.
Befitting the producer of the reigning K-pop kings, the song was powerful—uplifting yet emotional, speaking of dreams and the friendships born in chasing them.
Jun's chest tightened with nostalgia. The depression weighing him down cracked open as the melody rekindled the fire in his heart. The best memories are remembered by the heart, he recalled from a quote. His lips curved faintly.
But as the lyrics scrolled and parts were revealed, excitement quickly soured.
"Wait… Part One has way more lines than the others," Min pointed out.
"Yeah, Parts Two through Four have a lot too."
"No, look—up to Part Seven."
Hanada and Kim Dae-Ho confirmed it. Sujin rubbed the back of his neck. "Then that means… Parts Eight to Twelve only get one line each. Somebody check for me, please."
The room buzzed with disbelief until silence swallowed them again.
The choreography played next, showing formations and center positions.
"In some formations, Parts Eight to Twelve are hardly in the middle…" Min began.
Another corrected him. "…No. They are never in the center."
Their faces stiffened as realization set in.
Unfair line distribution—always controversial in K-pop—was now staring them down on Day Two.
"Haha… this is stressful already," Juwon groaned beside Jun. "Is this normal?"
The program had made its point brutally clear: reality had come early to the Greenhouse.