Chapter Text
It’s been one and a half months since they began filming for Asia Super Young. One and a half months since Quanzhe got two stars instead of three for his initial evaluation stage, since he lost the center position for the theme song to Jiang Xinxi. One month since he placed sixth in live votes for the first performance, and two weeks since his team placed first in the dance category for the second live performance but he placed second to Akilyar within the team. So he hasn’t been doing as well as he thought he would, but he’s going to place partial blame on the fact that everything is still up in the air with the show - it doesn’t even have a set broadcast date yet, so it almost doesn’t feel real, like nothing they’re currently doing matters since the public wouldn’t even be able to see it anyway.
But they’re still pushing on with filming, and the third live performance is coming up. The goal this time is to rank within top five of all ten teams in order to receive bonus votes, and Quanzhe is equal parts excited, stressed, and nervous. Excited, because the stage this time is a completely different concept compared to the previous two. Stressed, because their team has three people and two of them don’t have prior dance experience. Nervous, because Zhengting’s going to be the mentor this time instead of Cheng Xiao, and Quanzhe wants to do better in front of him this time.
A few days left until the actual performance means midterm evaluations, which means seeing Zhengting for the first time in over a month. His hair has grown a considerable amount in that time and is now a light rose gold, a color Quanzhe thinks suits Zhengting really well. His fingers itch to run through the strands, to feel if they’re as soft as they look.
Quanzhe shakes himself out of that train of thought and joins his team in greeting Zhengting, They get into their starting positions and start the music without further ado.
The song they’re performing is slow, which Quanzhe hopes would allow them to cover up their weak dancing if they keep the choreography to a minimum and focus on other stage elements instead. He likes his teammates - Akilyar, who he’s working with for the second time, and Li Yi, who’s also from Yuehua and just a complete genius when it comes to making music - and he thinks they should be able to pull something off, even if filling up the stage with only three people is probably quite a challenge for anyone. After all, Li Yi’s already planning on having a grand piano on the side stage, and Akilyar could probably learn something in time for a simple duo dance with Quanzhe.
Or so Quanzhe had thought. Zhengting stands up after they’re done, with his hands on his hips, and Quanzhe can’t see the future but he can read Zhengting, and he has a bad feeling about what’s about to come next.
“Li Quanzhe,” Zhengting laughs, and Quanzhe lets himself hope for a second, even though he knows it’s not a good sign. “The worst team,” Zhengting goes on to say, and the corners of Quanzhe’s lips drop on their own accord as he nods.
“I feel like you three are running out of time,” Zhengting laughs again, more out of frustration than anything else. “The part where you guys dance together is really not good. It’s a huge factor and drags your performance down by a lot.”
“Of course I know there’s a lot of burden on you,” Zhengting says, meeting Quanzhe’s eyes. Quanzhe attempts to smile but feels it come out twisted. “And the two of you,” Zhengting turns to Li Yi and Akilyar, “have improved a lot, but there’s a difference between being able to dance and looking good onstage. Between the three of you, you won’t even be able to hide. Everyone will be able to see clear as day.”
He goes on to compliment Li Yi’s rearrangement and starts to give them advice on specific parts of the choreography. Quanzhe’s just grateful that despite the scolding, it’s still his Zhengting there, smiling and speaking casually and making jokes to soften the blow.
Zhengting concludes their mentoring session by telling Akilyar and Li Yi you two really need to put in a lot of time , and Quanzhe you need to help them . “I don’t think it’s very acceptable right now,” Zhengting says to all of them. “If you all go on stage like this,” he glances at Quanzhe, “Mr. Li Quanzhe, I think it will be very embarrassing.” Quanzhe purses his lips and smiles - what else can he do? “Three words for you,” Zhengting smiles, almost like he finds what he’s about to say funny. “Very extremely embarrassing. You two as well,” he adds, looking at Li Yi and Akilyar in turn.
They thank Zhengting and move to leave the room. Quanzhe’s so lost in his own thoughts about how they should spend the little time they have left to fix their performance as much as possible that he doesn’t even feel Zhengting’s hand around his wrist until Zhengting’s pulling on his arm.
“Be honest with me,” They’re almost by the door and Zhengting’s grabbing onto Quanzhe’s hand now. “Isn’t it embarrassing for you?” Two cameramen move so they don’t go out of frame, and it takes Quanzhe a few tugs of his hand for Zhengting to let go.
“You’ve chosen this song and emphasized the emotional aspect of it,” Zhengting says, wringing his hands. “You can’t make it more exciting to the audience even if you wanted to. So you need to focus on the emotions and the vibe, right, but your emotions aren’t there at all.”
“Alright,” Quanzhe says. It’s like he’s on the initial evaluation stage again, staring at the floor because he doesn’t want to meet Zhengting’s earnest gaze. He knows Zhengting’s coming from a good place and doing the most he can to help, and he’d never admit to anyone in a million years that he’s actually missed Zhengting’s nagging, but he just wishes they weren’t doing this in front of all these cameras pointing at them that are starting to make him a little feel overwhelmed. He crosses his arms and hugs them close to his chest as if that could shield him from the prying lenses.
“Think about it some more,” Zhengting says, picking up on Quanzhe’s mood. He pats Quanzhe’s arm - he’s always been so touchy, and Quanzhe knows Zhengting would be reaching for his hand again if he hadn’t tucked them into his elbows. “You must bring out the atmosphere because that’s the only direction you guys can go in now,” Zhengting emphasizes again, last piece of advice he gets out before Quanzhe all but runs out of the room, mumbling something about how he’s cutting into the next team’s timeslot.
-
The actual day of the performance comes too quickly. Their group is the fourth to perform, fifth if they count Zhengting’s stage before the contestants’. Quanzhe’s always loved watching Zhengting onstage, even more so after he learned just how much thought and effort Zhengting puts into the design of each and every one of his performances, from outfits to props to lighting to backup dancer choreography. He knows, because Zhengting had invited him to perform at his solo concert last year as a guest, and they had worked together to shape the stage every step of the way. Experiencing it firsthand had made Quanzhe hold Zhengting in an even higher regard than he previously had, which he didn’t even know was possible.
Which is why Quanzhe really hopes to impress Zhengting someday, even though he thinks it’s probably quite strange to want to impress someone he’s been friends with for three quarters of a decade. But Zhengting’s also more than that - he’s always been a mentor to Quanzhe, someone Quanzhe looks up to and seeks advice from; the first person Quanzhe goes to when he gets news, good or bad; his biggest supporter at each and every important step he took along the way, including Asia Super Young this time. Zhengting would probably say it’s all nothing, because it’s all things he should’ve done as someone in his position, but Quanzhe still wants to pay Zhengting back for all of it somehow, and the best thing he’s come up with so far is to become someone worthy of being known as Zhengting’s ex-groupmate, like how Chengcheng and Justin and Wenjun and even Xinchun are all doing really well for themselves in their respective directions.
It’s their turn to perform all too soon, and Quanzhe reassures Li Yi and Akilyar that everything will be alright before they walk onto the stage and into the view of the audience. As much as Quanzhe tries to find and interact with all the fans that are holding his banners, he can’t help the way his gaze constantly strays back to Zhengting, who looks nothing short of a woodland fairy in the earth-toned suit he changed into after his performance.
They introduce themselves once the cheers die down, first as a team then individually. “I’m the one who wants to sing love songs to you all night,” Quanzhe recites the blurb they had come up with together as a team. “I’m Li. Quan. Zhe.” He finds Zhengting’s eyes and grins as he imitates Zhengting’s infamous way of introducing himself, saying his name with a pause in between each character. Zhengting breaks into a smile, gaze infinitely soft behind his oversized wireframe glasses, and it makes Quanzhe feel like he’s already won the competition today even though he has yet to perform.
The lights dim after they’re done talking, and Quanzhe clears his head. The three of them have already agreed to view this stage as an attempt at a new concept rather than a polished production to win over others with, so all they have to do is to pull off the performance and not worry too much about the response they get.
They stand in the middle of the stage again once the song ends, for fans to vote and for mentors to comment. As expected, most of the feedback they receive is negative - there are a few words of praise for Li Yi, which is to be expected and also deserved, and the rest is criticism about how they lack the skills to really pull off the style they were going for, from their vocals to their dancing. Zhengting wraps up the commentary by suggesting evenly that they should only attempt breakthroughs they’re certain they can pull off, and that even though he knows they’ve put in a lot of work, it’s still not good enough.
As they walk offstage, the fans scream that they did well, and Quanzhe smiles and waves at them - there’s no use in dwelling on results he was already expecting. But Quanzhe would be lying if he said he wasn’t affected by Zhengting’s comments, because Zhengting had criticized their mindset in addition to their stage, which Quanzhe wasn’t expecting and felt slightly embarrassed by even if he still more or less stands by his team’s decision.
It makes Quanzhe feel a bit better when they find out they ranked fourth out of the first five teams to perform, and he's even more surprised when they manage to beat the team performing Bang Bang which everyone thought was for sure going to place in the top five. They lose to the next team, though, which is also slightly ironic as Li Yi had helped rearrange their song as well. Of course Quanzhe doesn’t like to lose, especially not in front of Zhengting, but it’s a small comfort knowing they only lost by four votes, and Quanzhe is slightly relieved that he won’t have to go onstage to face Zhengting again, who doesn’t seem to have any cracks in his professionalism today.
Quanzhe stays in the monitoring room for the rest of filming, and watches Zhengting rush to leave as soon as the cameras stop rolling. Which is just as well, because Quanzhe doesn’t know if he would’ve wanted to approach Zhengting afterwards. From being awed by Zhengting’s performance at the start of filming to being scolded seven ways Sunday by all the mentors after his own stage, it hits Quanzhe hard that he still has so far to go before he could possibly be considered Zhengting’s equal, if ever.
-
Sorry I had to go right after filming, Zhengting texts him later that night. I had to audition for a drama as part of my KPI this quarter .
Quanzhe laughs to himself and ignores the way Dianjia judges him from the other side of the room.
It’s okay, Quanzhe replies. Hope it went well? Zhengting isn’t much of an acting person - that’s more Wenjun’s territory - but it seems like almost every idol has to be a part time actor these days. Quanzhe knows Zhengting would rather be on the stage than on a set, but when CEO Mama Du tells you to do something, you do it. And the way Zhengting’s still releasing new music and holding at least one concert every year, they’re things Quanzhe knows he has to fight for, which makes Quanzhe respect him all the more.
I’ll know in a few weeks, I guess . The typing bubble appears and Quanzhe watches the ellipsis fade in and out, idly smoothing his finger up and down the edge of his phone. The bubble disappears at one point, and Quanzhe wonders if he should apologize for not having done better with today’s performance, but then it’s back again and Quanzhe’s heart starts beating in sync with the dots.
I’m sorry if I was too harsh on you today , the text finally comes. It’s just that you’re capable of so much more than what you guys showcased.
I know , Quanzhe says. We really did just want to try it out .
You’ll have many more opportunities for that in the future , Zhengting counters. When there’s not as much at stake.
Quanzhe smiles in slight exasperation when he realizes Zhengting’s reaction was less disappointment in his lackluster performance and more worry that he wouldn’t be happy with his results at the end of the show. You’re right , he types, and waits a little before he sends it so Zhengting doesn’t get the satisfaction of seeing it right away.
Of course I am . Quanzhe could practically feel the sass coming through the screen. Really though, I don’t want you to have any regrets.
You don’t need to worry so much about me anymore , Quanzhe tells him. I’m the same age as you when we were on Idol Producer .
That’s kind of poetic, Zhengting says. Regardless, I just want you to be happy and achieve what you deserve.
Aww . Quanzhe doesn’t let himself think as he types and sends the next message. I love you too . I guess I do, Zhengting replies after a beat, and Quanzhe spends the rest of the night smiling like an idiot.