Chapter 01 - The blueprint of Six

​ The air in the basement of PLEDIS Entertainment was thick with the scent of pine-scented floor cleaner and the metallic tang of industrial air conditioners. For Shinyu, it was the smell of home—or at least, the only home he had known for the better part of his youth.

​ He stood in front of the practice room mirror, watching his own reflection. He wasn't alone. Behind him, four others were sprawled across the floor in various states of exhaustion.

Dohoon was leaning against the wall, eyes closed, his chest heaving. Youngjae was nursing a bottle of lukewarm water, while Hanjin and Kyungmin were quietly discussing a transition in the second verse of their evaluation piece.

​ They were five. They were talented. They were almost a team. But the air in the room felt incomplete, like a chord missing its root note.

​"Again," Shinyu said, his voice raspy.

​"Hyung, we’ve done the chorus forty times," Kyungmin groaned, though he was already pushing himself up from the floor. The youngest member’s energy was usually bottomless, but even he was hitting a wall.

​"We do it until the shadows move at the exact same time," Shinyu replied firmly, though his eyes softened. As the eldest and the presumed leader, the weight of their future rested on his shoulders. He knew the rumors circulating in the upstairs offices. The debut was scheduled. The concept was "Sparkling Blue"—a refreshing, youthful energy that was supposed to feel like a summer breeze. But right now, they felt like a thunderstorm.

​"We’re missing something," Dohoon said suddenly, opening his eyes. He stood up and walked to the center of the room.

"The choreography for the bridge... it’s designed for six people. Every time we try to adapt it for five, the spacing feels off. There’s a gap in the center."

​Youngjae nodded, wiping sweat from his forehead. "It’s not just the dance. The vocal layers in the demo have a middle-high harmony that none of us are hitting quite right. I can go high, and Dohoon can stay mid-low, but there’s a texture missing."

​The door to the practice room swung open, cutting off their conversation. Their head manager, a man who looked like he hadn't slept since 2015, stepped in. He wasn't alone.

​"Listen up," the manager said. "I know you’ve been feeling the gap in the lineup. The trainers and the producers have made a final decision."

​Shinyu felt a jolt of electricity run down his spine. This was it. Either they were moving forward as five, or the final piece was arriving.

​"This is Han Jihoon," the manager announced, stepping aside.

​A boy walked in. He wasn't particularly tall, but he carried himself with a quiet, grounded confidence. He had sharp, observant eyes and a mop of dark hair that fell over his forehead. He didn't look intimidated by the five pairs of eyes staring at him; instead, he looked like he was memorizing the room.

​"Hello," the boy said, bowing deeply. "I’m Jihoon. I’ll be joining you from today. Please look after me."

​The room remained silent for a heartbeat too long. For the existing five, this was an intrusion into a brotherhood they had fought to build. For Jihoon, it was walking into a lions' den where the lions were already wearing matching sneakers.

​"Jihoon has been a top trainee in the dance department for years," the manager continued. "He’s the last piece. Starting tomorrow, the evaluation isn't about individuals anymore. It’s about TWS. If one of you fails, the group fails."

​As the manager left, the silence returned, heavier than before. Shinyu stepped forward, extending a hand.

​"I’m Shinyu. This is Dohoon, Youngjae, Hanjin, and our youngest, Kyungmin."

​Jihoon took his hand. His grip was firm. "I’ve seen your monthly evaluations," Jihoon said softly. "You guys are good. I’ll do my best not to slow you down."

"Slow us down?" Kyungmin let out a small, tired laugh.

"Hyung, if you can help us fix the spacing in this bridge, you’ll be our hero."

​Shinyu watched the interaction closely. He saw the way Jihoon’s eyes immediately went to the floor markings, calculating the distance between the members. He saw the way he shifted his weight, a dancer’s instinct.

​The blueprint was finally complete. But a blueprint wasn't a building. They had exactly three months to turn six strangers into a single heartbeat.

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