From Skid Row to Superstardom: An Idol System Novel-Chapter 89: Traffic Song Boy (1)

Today was finally the day!

Rachel Smith, pop music connoisseur, propped her tablet up behind her book bag placed on her desk, put in her earbuds and covered it with her hair, and took a sip of her iced caramel macchiato before happily navigating to the WeTube channel of Pop Star Academy: Project 777 while her history teacher yapped about some war in the 1800s.

She had been stalking the program website daily, memorizing all of the information listed on the minimal contestant profiles while waiting for crumbs of content.

She had prepared both her heart and her wallet to spend on her underdog pick, and she just wanted a single opportunity to show her devotion.

And finally, today was the start of the online-only mini-series to introduce the public to the contestants.

Today, the production team would release performance videos of all the groups, and the group with the most views would apparently win a special prize.

As a fan, she naturally wanted to do her part.

The groups were selected by the judges grading the contestants’ skill levels in singing, dancing, and rapping and averaging the two before allowing the contestants to choose within those groups.

Since she didn’t know which group her underdog pick had ended up in, Rachel decided to watch every video from the top, starting with the first one, which showed a handsome boy with golden skin jumping in the air with two other boys beside him as pillars of flames went off to the side.

Covering her mouth so she wouldn’t squeal in excitement, especially at the flash of abs peeking out of the boys’ torn shirts, Rachel tapped her tablet, and the music started playing as the performance began.

The video displayed a blank stage, and for a moment, Rachel thought it was frozen before an intense bass beat made her ears vibrate as smoke filled the screen.

Then, slowly rising from the ground, the handsome, golden-skinned boy appeared on a platform before back flipping off as flames illuminated his face as he hung in the air before landing on the ground.

With a wild smile and a charming wink, the boy adjusted his headset before fiercely rapping while dancing to the aggressive choreography.

His crisp enunciation of each word, combined with his effortless swagger as he punched, kicked, and flowed through the choreography, made Rachel not able to look away from him at all, even to look at the other people who had appeared behind him.

Her eyes were completely focused on the golden-skinned boy in front, but before she could continue taking in all of his beauty, he slid to the back, as a tall blonde boy with his hair in a half-up, half-down style slid forward to replace him at the center.

His blue eyes sparkled brightly as flames flared up again, and then she heard one of the most beautiful voices singing to her.

It felt like her whole body was sinking in honey, that was how sweet it was, but before she could get enough of him, a Korean man with bleach blonde hair tips took over and began rapping with flames flaring up to the side.

The cycle of being entranced by each team member’s great visuals, amazing vocals, and rapping continued until the boys suddenly stopped moving as the beat dropped.

Rachel took a moment to admire their outfits; the dark jeans, dark torn shirts, that showed off lean yet muscular arms, sneak peeks of abs, and gleaming sweat on their skin.

Each boy looked fierce and handsome, and her fingers twitched to take a screenshot, but she restrained herself by promising to do it once she watched everything.

Then the golden skin boy, who was now back in the center nodded his head in a cocky fashion before stomping his feet.

Each time he stomped, flames flared as if he were controlling them.

Then, one by one, the other boys joined in, and a synchronized dance break made of only stomps, claps, and jumps sounded out, causing Rachel’s mouth to drop open in shock.

It sounded like one person, even though seven people were on her screen dancing the same moves.

It was insane how good the performance was, almost like a performance at an award show.

When it was finished, Rachel had to fan herself and chug her cold coffee while screaming a little to let off steam.

She couldn’t believe that she got to watch such an amazing performance for free!

Like, like, save, favorite, and share!

Ducking her head to avoid her teacher’s glare and marking the video so she could watch it later, Rachel excitedly clicked on the next video, hoping that it was just as amazing as the previous one and that she would see her underdog pick.

And just like that, her double-period history class passed.

Sometimes the performances were so good she couldn’t help but squeal, and other times she just yawned while wishing it was over.

And finally, when she scrolled down to the last video, she saw the face that she had been waiting for.

The traffic song boy with the sea green eyes, who had his face painted with thick white paint and black graphic designs.

He was the only person pictured on the thumbnail, but had many arms extended into fists behind him like a many-armed Buddha statue, even though the owners of the arms could not be seen.

In the thumbnail, his foot was stomping on the dark ground, causing a large pillar of water to splash up to the height of his face.

The white shirt with a large double zero and his name written on it clung to his body, showing a faint imprint of muscles in his slender figure even through the black turtleneck he wore.

For some reason, Rachel couldn’t look away from those narrowed green eyes, that smug smile, with his tongue flicking the red, lipstick-painted lips like he saw something funny.

She was completely entranced and needed to know everything.

What was he doing?

Why was he drenched?

Was it on purpose or an accident?

How come she hadn’t seen such a cool pose or water from the other participants?

Just as Rachel’s fingers were about to tap the thumbnail to find out all of the answers to her question, an old wrinkled hand pressed her tablet screen onto her desk.

"Miss Smith. You’ve disrupted my class enough. Put that away or I’ll seize it."

Rachel’s history teacher, Mrs. Williams, glared at her, but Rachel could only clutch her head in despair as she heard that familiar, beautiful voice sing the intro that she was now familiar with, but couldn’t see the corresponding image.

"Nooooooooooo! Please, four more minutes. Just four more minutes. I need to see Ari."

"Then I’ll be taking it."

"Noooooo! Ari!!!! Please let me see my Ariel!" Rachel desperately pleaded, but her teacher didn’t look back as she walked away with the tablet.

Mrs Williams couldn’t understand why a high schooler was obsessing over princesses made for children when she was going to graduate soon.

*****

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Traffic Song Boy Ariiiiii!!!!!!!!"

In another location, a young girl was screaming as her fingers rapidly pressed the replay button.

She sat right in front of the television, ignoring her parents and little brother who were standing behind her.

Her eyes were completely glued to a boy wearing white face paint with panda eyes and sports stripes on his cheeks as he smirked before speaking in the slightly accented voice that she couldn’t get enough of.

P. S. A

The intense bass sound of the song rang out.