Chapter 6 #2
“Listen up, Team Blue!” Min Jae shouted, all power, long used to singing for the back row. Like the nearby cameras, all eyes were focused on him. “I don’t know about you, but I intend for us to win that feast tonight.”
Team Blue burst into rowdy cheers.
“Here’s how we’re gonna do it,” Min Jae continued, letting his voice ring out strong and clear.
“Look around you. Everyone here has an edge. Some of you are strong. You’re the anchors for the tug-of-war.
Dancers? You’re fast and agile. You’re the runners for the relays.
Vocalists? You’ve got strong lungs and stamina to belt out the high notes.
Rappers? You’ve got the quick wits to spit mad bars.
We won’t win being a chaotic mob. We’ll win with precision.
We identify our strengths, and we aim them where they’ll do the most good.
Am I right?” A new cheer rang out. “Who's gonna win the day?”
“Team Blue!”
“I can’t hear you!”
“Team Blue!”
“That’s right!” Min Jae genuinely grinned for the first time that day, confident that his battle plan was exactly what the day called for. “Great! First up is the three-legged obstacle course. Find a partner with a similar height and stride. Go!”
Min Jae turned to find Woo Jin by his side.
They weren’t a perfect height match, but they both had longer legs.
It would work. As he and Woo Jin walked toward the group of waiting PAs to pick up their ankle ties, he caught another glimpse of Andy, laughing and playfully shoving Leo.
They seemed physically well-matched, too, even though Leo was a bit taller.
Even under his purple t-shirt, Andy’s upper body was impressive.
A strong chest and prominent shoulders. Long arms that weren’t quite lanky.
And his legs. Min Jae was only seeing them for the first time in the athletic shorts they’d all been given.
Thick, powerful quads and the defined calves of a dancer.
The product of thousands of hours of squats and jumps.
No wonder he’d been able to pull off all those moves with such ease.
He could probably do a lot with those legs.
Min Jae unleashed his second genuine grin of the day.
That would make beating him in a purely physical contest all the more satisfying.
The teams ran the obstacle course in pairs, one blue and one red, starting with the lowest ranks and moving up.
That meant a lot of races, but the course was short, so each run was pretty fast. Min Jae prepped each pair beforehand, reminding them to stay aware, plan ahead, and call out their moves to their partner to avoid confusion.
But the effort was too much for many of his teammates, especially early on.
A lot of misses and stumbles led to quite a few losses to Team Red.
But Team Blue managed to rally back into a tie by the time it was Min Jae and Woo Jin’s turn.
Which meant, Min Jae absolutely had to win against Andy.
"Remember,” Min Jae said, low and serious, “always start with your inside foot. Match my rhythm and follow my lead."
Woo Jin eagerly nodded. Min Jae glanced at Andy and Leo, getting into their starting position beside him. Judging. Then Andy turned, meeting his gaze. He half-smiled and winked. He actually fucking winked. Min Jae huffed, quickly looking away.
Si Woo blew the starting whistle. Min Jae and Woo Jin were first off the line, starting with their inside feet as Min Jae instructed.
He kept his focus forward, calling his turns as they whipped through the cones.
They moved as a single, efficient unit climbing and descending the three-step risers.
They were poetry. They were also losing.
Ahead of them, Andy and Leo, through some chaotic miracle, had already completed the stairs and were at least two steps ahead.
They moved with a sloppy, joyful synergy, yelling and laughing the entire way.
Min Jae pushed himself and Woo Jin harder, his jaw tight, somehow making up the distance between them to cross the finish line at the same time.
Si Woo declared the challenge a draw. No points for either team.
Despite Min Jae’s perfectly sound strategy, Andy’s team had somehow matched them.
Next was the tug-of-war. This was his element. Pure strength. Pure strategy.
Min Jae meticulously arranged his teammates, putting them in the ideal order.
“Anchors at the back,” he finished, directing his three largest members to the end of the rope.
He took his spot close to the middle, tightly gripping the rope.
“Remember to listen for my calls,” he added, “and dig your heels in.”
Across the center line, Andy walked the length of his team’s lineup, offering pats on the shoulder and enthusiastic encouragement.
He seemed to have arranged his team almost randomly, and for the life of him, Min Jae couldn't decipher the logic behind Andy's strategy.
Andy finally took his place near the back of his team.
Min Jae smirked. Fools. "Wait for it,” he called out as the teams pulled the rope taut.
Si Woo blew the starting whistle, and Team Blue pulled as one, a single, coordinated surge of power.
Team Red didn’t have the power to match.
Some of them stumbled. Their anchor lost his footing.
And the whole thing was over in seconds.
Min Jae’s team let out a triumphant roar as their rivals tumbled to the ground.
He flashed a triumphant grin at the closest camera pointed his way.
Team Blue was officially ahead, which was good, since the next game was the giant pants relay.
Min Jae had seen the challenge on plenty of variety shows, but had never tried it himself.
Where the three-legged race allowed for easy coordination between the players, trying to run while sharing a single, oversized pair of pants made that almost impossible.
It was a challenge designed for maximum clumsiness and TV-ready slapstick.
Team Red thrived in the absurdity. They embraced the chaos, their shrieks of laughter echoing across the field as they fell and scrambled back up.
They’d won the challenge long before Andy and Leo, running the final leg, stumbled over the finish line a full three seconds ahead of Min Jae and Woo Jin.
That meant the teams entered the final challenge in a tie. And Min Jae had to grudgingly admit that Andy’s strategy wasn’t a bad one after all. He smiled as he watched Team Red celebrate, jumping and giving each other high fives. Enjoy your fun, Team Red, because it’ll all be over soon enough.
“We’re all tied up,” Si Woo announced, “so, it all comes down to this, Dream Boys! The winner of Name Tag Elimination takes home the gogi feast!”
The final game. Team Blue versus Team Red. All the players gathered at a group of tables set up off to the side for water breaks while PAs handed out blue and red velcro vests and the large, easy-to-read name tags to be stuck on everyone’s backs.
Something shifted for Min Jae. The electric tension in the air nearly made his hair stand on end.
He gathered his team for one last huddle.
His advice was simple, delivered in a throaty growl boosted by a surge of nervous excitement.
“This is it, Team Blue. Stay fast out there. Stay loose. Protect your back at all times, and grab as many name tags as you can.” He stuck out his hand.
“Fighting, on three.” Dozens of other hands quickly piled onto his. “One, two, three. Fighting!”
Once the players found their loosely arranged positions, the starting whistle shrieked, and the field erupted into absolute chaos.
A single, roaring monster of blue and red.
The first wave was a burst of torn velcro and surprised shouts as the slowest and least careful players were picked off in seconds.
Min Jae haunted the periphery, scanning the field, letting the initial scrum thin itself out before he moved in for a few quick, efficient eliminations.
The numbers dwindled rapidly. Thirty left.
Then twenty. The game became more tactical.
Alliances formed and broke. Min Jae found himself cornered near the sidelines by two fast guys from Team Red.
He braced for a quick and dirty escape, refusing to bow out.
But Woo Jin charged in from out of nowhere, arms flailing as he made himself a target.
One of the red players peeled off to chase him, and Woo Jin sacrificed his own name tag to give Min Jae an opening to escape the trap.
“Fighting, hyung!” Woo Jin shouted as he walked off the field. A true ally.
And finally, there were two. Min Jae and Andy.
The center pair and the killing part. The final showdown.
The eliminated contestants presented a massive, cheering crowd on the sidelines as the two captains circled each other in the center of the vast, empty field, both of them slick with sweat, chests heaving from the exertion.
Andy’s grin was feral, a look of pure, competitive joy on his face.
Min Jae only smirked, his focus absolute. Andy wasn’t the only one with stamina.
They walked slow loops, teasing each other with feints and quick jabs, testing reactions.
Min Jae waited, letting his breathing even out, gauging Andy’s attention on him.
There it was. Just like in the signal song, his focus was on the wrong thing.
Min Jae feinted to the right, leading with his hips.
Andy shifted his weight to his left foot, just for a fraction of a second.
Now.
Min Jae launched himself toward Andy without warning.
He’d been saving one final burst of speed for just the right moment.
Caught completely off guard, Andy let out a surprised yelp and spun away, breaking into a desperate sprint.
But Min Jae was ready, already on his heels the moment Andy turned.
The chase was brutally short. A pair of powerful strides, a final lunge, and his fingers closed around the edge of the velcro tag.
The brief, intense physical contact of his hand against Andy’s back was a jolt, a spark of heat that shot up his arm and almost made him stumble.
He ignored it, ripping the name tag free, the sound lost to the seething shouts from the sidelines.
. He held the tag high above his head, and let out a triumphant roar for his team, for the cameras, for everyone. He’d won.
The sound of Andy’s joyful laughter brought Min Jae back to Earth. He watched in wide-eyed disbelief as Andy approached, smiling as brightly as ever. “That was so awesome! I never thought you’d catch me like that. Guess I was wrong!” He playfully smacked Min Jae’s shoulder. “Good game!”
Andy jogged off, leaving Min Jae to stand there, his mouth hanging open, with the name tag hanging limp in his hand.
A temporary trophy branded with the name Andy Kim.
Min Jae shook off his shock as his joyful team surrounded him.
They’d won. He’d won. They’d be feasting tonight because of his leadership.
But something about Andy’s gracious, almost goofy defeat left Min Jae off balance. His victory, hollow.