After a long, emotionally charged day, it finally came down to the last performance of the night.
And standing at the very end of the lineup was the one trainee who hadn't been given an original song—
because he would be performing one of his own.
Bobby.
As the behind-the-scenes footage began to roll, the energy in the theatre subtly shifted. The screen showed a quiet practice room bathed in cold fluorescent light. No music played. No laughter echoed. Just the soft hum of the air conditioner and the faint squeak of sneakers against the polished floor.
Bobby sat alone.
He was seated on the floor, back against the mirror, knees pulled close to his chest. His phone lay face-down beside him. Every few seconds, his eyes flicked toward the door—hopeful, expectant—waiting for footsteps that never came.
Minutes passed.
Then more.
Eventually, a staff member entered the room.
The words solo performance weren't spoken aloud on screen, but they didn't need to be. The camera caught the moment clearly—the subtle stiffening of Bobby's shoulders, the flicker of disappointment that crossed his face before he smoothed it away.
He nodded.
He smiled.
He accepted it.
But the loneliness still lingered, heavy and quiet.
Then came the next piece of news.
Bobby would be performing an original song—one he had written himself.
The reaction was instant. His eyes widened, disbelief flashing through them. For a split second, it looked like his thoughts were racing faster than he could keep up with. Shock. Fear. Excitement. Pressure. All crashing into each other at once.
The shift was palpable.
From loneliness—
to responsibility.
From waiting—
to being seen.
And just like that, conversation exploded across the livestream.
@Hatsu: Bobby looks so lonely 🥺 why does he have to do a solo?
@overcaffeinated: I don't know what to think… a solo this late feels risky.
→ @FFonBio: It could be a disadvantage, but it could also be huge.
→→ @Corn⭐: Guys, TRUST Bobby. He literally wrote Ghosted. Man knows what he's doing.
→→→ @overcaffeinated: I do trust him… I just want the best for him. I want him to debut so bad.
@RicoCharges: Is Bobby cooked or is he cooking? Guess we'll find out. Fighting, Bobby!
As Bobby prepared, another surprise dropped.
Foca would be his professional help.
The tension in the comments eased almost immediately.
Because if there was one thing the audience had learned by now, it was this:
In Sir Foca, we trust.
And so far, that faith had never been misplaced.
The footage continued, shifting to Bobby and Foca sitting together on the practice room floor. There was no stiffness, no awkward hierarchy. Just two people sitting cross-legged, backs against the mirror, water bottles nearby—comfortable in each other's presence.
"So," Foca began gently, turning toward Bobby, curiosity warm in his eyes. "Could you tell me about the inspiration behind the song you're going to perform?"
Bobby let out a small, embarrassed laugh. His cheeks tinged pink.
"Um… it's actually kind of funny," he admitted. "The inspiration came from a manga I read back in high school."
Foca leaned in slightly, fully attentive.
"It wasn't very popular," Bobby continued, voice soft with nostalgia. "I found it by accident while looking for manga related to the arts. And when I read it…" He paused, swallowing. "It hit me so hard I cried."
His hands fidgeted in his lap as he spoke, but his eyes shone.
"The main character was just… ordinary. At least, that's how he saw himself. Ordinary skills, ordinary talent—surrounded by people who were extraordinary. But somehow, he found the courage to step forward anyway."
Bobby smiled faintly, lost in the memory.
"He wasn't perfect. He messed up. He failed. But he tried. And when he did… all those imperfections faded. He shined so brightly that people couldn't look away. He surprised everyone—including himself."
By now, Bobby was fully at ease, words spilling freely.
"And I remember thinking… I want to be like him. I told myself, 'If I can just find a little courage, I can do it too.'"
He let out a soft laugh.
"That mindset pushed me to audition for entertainment companies. And, well…" He shrugged lightly. "They eventually Ghosted me."
The callback made Foca chuckle, warmth crinkling the corners of his eyes.
"But even when I kept getting ghosted," Bobby continued, "this song kept me moving. It reminded me why I started. And somehow… it led me here."
Foca nodded slowly, deeply moved.
"I think it's incredible," he said after a moment, "how lives—even fictional ones—can shape us so profoundly. Inspiration finds us in the most unexpected places."
He smiled to himself.
"Many of the songs I've written are tied to people I love—some close, some fleeting, some complete strangers. But they all left a mark. That's how art works."
"I agree!" Bobby said eagerly. "There's so much beauty in the world, but people forget to slow down and appreciate it."
Then he turned toward Foca, eyes filled with genuine fondness.
"Not you, though."
Foca blinked. "Me?"
"Yes," Bobby said firmly. "You're the kind of person I want to be."
Foca laughed softly. "I think you're giving me too much credit."
"Nope," Bobby shook his head. "Even though we're close in age, you carry yourself with so much… regality. Like royalty, almost. You feel wise beyond your years—but what really makes you shine is how grounded you are."
His voice softened.
"I really admire you, sir."
Foca grew quiet for a moment, clearly touched.
"It's an honor to be seen that way," he said sincerely. "But trust me—I'm just a regular 25-year-old trying his best every day. Nothing more."
There was no false humility in his voice. Just honesty.
Bobby believed him.
"Well," Foca chuckled, breaking the moment, "that got deep real fast."
He clapped his hands together lightly.
"How about we make your song shine exactly the way you want it to?"
"Yes, please!" Bobby replied instantly, eyes lighting up.
The rest of the footage showed the two working closely together—editing lyrics line by line, refining vocal runs, adjusting phrasing. Foca guided Bobby through breathing techniques, helped shape emotional delivery, even added simple choreography to elevate the performance without overpowering it.
But it didn't feel like mentor and trainee.
It felt like two artists bonding.
Two people who loved what they did.
Their earlier conversation lingered in the hearts of viewers, leaving behind a warm, fuzzy feeling—like watching something pure and genuine unfold.
For the audience worldwide, it revealed a new side of Foca. Not just a judge. Not just a producer. Not just Bread Music's big CEO.
But a caretaker of artists.
Someone who saw people before products.
And as the screen faded, anticipation hung thick in the air.
Because now, everyone knew—
Whatever Bobby was about to perform
wasn't just a song.
It was a story.
A belief.
A quiet act of courage.
And the world was ready to listen.
****
PS - The inspiration of Bobby's song came from a real life manga, called: Straighten Up! Welcome to Shika High's Competitive Dance Club (Sesuji o Pin! to: Shikakō Kyōgi Dance-bu e Yōkoso).
The whole manga is a great read, definitely recommend you guys check it out as well.
But this song is heavily inspired, specifically by Vol 7, Chapter 61 of the manga.