Falling for the Omega Idol-Chapter 94: STRICT MENTORS

DYNA and Choi Minhyuk entered the practice room one after the other. The contestants, who had been sitting around, quickly stood up upon seeing the two mentors. They hurriedly arranged themselves in a straight line, mirroring the way they had during the morning’s vocal practice. Just as before, each contestant carefully attached their name tag to their shirt.

Dyna looked at this and nodded, satisfied. She and Choi Minhyuk stood in front of the contestants.

With a warm grin, Dyna looked at the contestants. "I hope you all had a good, filling lunch," she said, her tone light and encouraging. "Because you’re definitely going to need that energy." fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

The friendly smile she gave them eased the tension in the room, helping everyone feel a bit more relaxed. But Haneul knew better—in a matter of minutes, this friendly atmosphere from Dyna would definitely disappear, replaced by her sharp gaze and strict focus.

Despite his efforts to calm his nerves, worry still gnawed at him. After all, compared to everyone else here, his dancing skills probably fell short, which would only make him stand out like a sore thumb.

He clenched and unclenched his fists, taking a steadying breath. It’s fine. Even if he made mistakes, the important thing was that he gave his best and put in his fullest effort. If he faced criticism, he’d accept it and learn from it.

The two mentors took their seats behind the long table at the front of the room, each holding a stack of papers. They began flipping through the sheets, scanning each page.

Choi Minhyuk was the first to lift his head, his gaze briefly settling on Taeyang before darting to another contestant. The moment was so fleeting that most people watching would hardly notice or think much of it. But to Taeyang, the one directly involved, the glance held a different meaning.

Since Choi Minhyuk was from JH, he was most likely aware of Taeyang’s connection to the company’s chairman. Taeyang had heard from Choi Jiyeon that this performance director wasn’t particularly supportive of his participation in the program. She’d mentioned that if there was one thing Choi Minhyuk despised, especially in a professional environment, it was nepotism. To him, it probably looked like Taeyang was leveraging his connections to get into the program—and possibly to secure a debut spot. That was likely why Choi Minhyuk had volunteered to be one of the mentors: to assess if Taeyang truly had the talent to earn his place.

He wasn’t particularly worried about that. He had confidence in his talent. If he didn’t debut, it would be because he hadn’t managed to capture the hearts of the public. While that outcome would be frustrating, it would ultimately reveal whether he was truly suited to be an idol.

After all, idols aren’t just performers—they’re figures who inspire loyalty and admiration, connecting with audiences on a deeper level. If he couldn’t achieve that, then perhaps he wasn’t cut out for this path. But until proven otherwise, he believed he had what it took to succeed.

"Let’s begin with Jiwoo-ssi," Choi Minhyuk said after a moment’s pause.

Song Jiwoo stepped forward, doing a few stretches before the music began. He appeared calm, almost to the point of arrogance. But to Haneul, it was simply his natural expression, that classic resting bitch face—an effect only emphasized by his makeup.

The music kicked in with a steady beat, upbeat but requiring each move to be sharp and on point. Song Jiwoo moved with an easygoing style, his body seeming to follow the beat as naturally as breathing. Each step landed precisely, yet his shoulders stayed loose, his posture relaxed, giving the impression that he was simply gliding through the routine. He didn’t push hard into the moves, but seemed to let the music carry him, hitting each note with an effortless feel.

When the beat intensified, he kept his pace steady, maintaining that same calm energy even as the choreography picked up. Halfway through, his foot slipped slightly out of place—a small error that could’ve disrupted his flow. But without missing a beat, Song Jiwoo adjusted his stance, shifting smoothly as if he’d planned it that way. He carried on seamlessly, his movements perfectly aligned with the track, unfazed and in control.

As the song approached its end, Song Jiwoo finished the final sequence with crisp, controlled steps, matching the rhythm. At the last beat, he settled into a simple pose—one arm raised, his expression steady, showing neither a smile nor a frown. Even after the music faded, he held the position for a moment before stepping back, and bowing to the mentors.

Dyna’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Jiwoo. "You handled that slip well; I’ll give you that. But don’t think that covers everything. Your movements lacked force, especially when the music picked up. You’re precise, but it’s too relaxed. We need to feel each beat hit harder."

Choi Minhyuk chimed in, his tone critical. "And beyond the technique, Jiwoo-ssi, there’s almost no presence. You danced, but your face gave us nothing—no engagement, no expression. If you’re not bringing that out, the audience won’t connect, no matter how precise you are."

Haneul hadn’t expected such a blunt evaluation, especially since, in his eyes, Song Jiwoo had done well. Sure, he knew getting a compliment from Dyna would be tough, but he hadn’t anticipated that the performance mentor, Choi Minhyuk, would be just as critical—if not more. Telling Song Jiwoo outright that he brought ’nothing’? It seemed intense, especially considering Song Jiwoo had only made one noticeable mistake. Yet, this was the feedback he received.

Haneul glanced over at Song Jiwoo. On the surface, the other seemed unfazed, but Haneul noticed a slight tremor in his fingers. The criticism had clearly gotten to him, though he was doing his best to hide it. Keeping his expression steady, Song Jiwoo bowed once more and thanked the mentors.

But due to the strict evaluation Song Jiwoo had just received, the next contestant called up seemed visibly tense, his confidence obviously already at the bottom before he even began.