The members of Block M filed into the practice room one by one, stretching and greeting each other with grins and shoulder pats. The excitement in the air was electric, a mix of anticipation and nerves. They had been working on the choreography for their feature in Mitsunari's song "Survivor," and today was another crucial step toward making it stage ready.
Mitsunari and Tao were already there when the members arrived, watching footage from a past rehearsal on the screen. Jun, their producer, stood beside them, arms crossed, his face contemplative. The second the group stepped onto the floor, Mitsunari turned with a smile and clapped his hands, calling everyone to the center.
"Let's warm up first," Tao said, stretching his neck as he took his position. As the music pulsed through the speakers, each member fell into rhythm, moving fluidly through the stretches and basic steps. Their synergy had come a long way since Block M was formed, and today they were more unified than ever.
Once warm-ups ended, Mitsunari started breaking down the choreography section by section. "Alright, this first section is right after the intro, and we need sharper angles. Johnny, your arm's lagging a little on the drop."
Johnny nodded, repeating the motion, adjusting to Mitsunari's cue. Jun stepped in quietly and said, "If we lean slightly more into the bass beat on that count, it'll match the song's tension better." The members appreciated how Jun always offered suggestions from a musical perspective.
The choreography was bold and demanding. "Survivor" wasn't just any song as it was a statement piece. Mitsunari's lyrics spoke to pain, resilience, and triumph, and the performance needed to match that energy. The hook was especially pivotal. All nine members hit powerful footwork in unison, which gave the performance a punch of precision.
Suho, Mark, and Jeren rehearsed a trio section that symbolized a struggle for control. Mitsunari wanted this moment to feel real. "You've been fighting all this time," he told them, "So show that. Show the survival in your bones."
Jun clapped after one take. "That's the feel. Let's build on that emotion when you re-enter the hook."
Josh and Byeongkwan worked on a formation shift that brought the group into a tight circle, reflecting unity. It was a small detail, but Mitsunari was adamant as it had to be clean. The circle was more than aesthetic; it was symbolic.
Donghun and Issac took center during a pre-hook moment where the music softened before exploding back into the beat. Tao watched carefully, then gave a thumbs-up. "Great energy, keep it sharp through that quiet build."
Hoya, newly added, had been working harder than ever. As he ran through his solo section, Mitsunari approached with encouragement. "You belong here," he whispered, placing a hand on Hoya's shoulder. "We all fought to be here. Let's show them why."
Breaks were short and filled with discussion. Jun played the hook-on loop, suggesting a slight shift in timing on the arm swings to emphasize the rising tempo. The group gathered around him, nodding and internalizing the beat.
"I think if we stagger the jump in the last chorus just slightly, it'll hit harder," Tao said, stepping in to demonstrate. One by one, the members replicated the movement, the sound of synchronized landings echoing off the walls.
Even during water breaks, they didn't fully rest. Jeren and Donghun talked foot placement; Johnny mimicked the chorus in slow motion, refining his spacing.
Mitsunari was meticulous, yet supportive. He moved through the formation, offering quick corrections. "Lift your chest. Eyes up. We're not apologizing on this stage, we're declaring."
The atmosphere was intense, but not heavy. There were moments of laughter especially when Suho accidentally did an entire move facing the wrong direction. It helped ease the pressure.
As the afternoon light faded, Tao gathered everyone. "We're close. Tomorrow we'll do full run-throughs. Keep your bodies loose tonight. Eat well. Rest."
The members nodded, drenched in sweat but filled with pride. They weren't just learning steps as they were building something meaningful. Something that would leave an impression.
Later, in the smaller dance studio, a few of the guys stayed behind. Jeren practiced the footwork from the second verse, muttering counts under his breath. Hoya joined him, fixing a minor alignment issue they'd been trying to smooth out all day.
Mitsunari and Jun watched from the glass outside. "They're hungry," Jun remarked. "This will be something special."
The next day, the group returned ready to run the performance. From the first beat, it was clear they had leveled up. The room was alive with energy and the feet thudding, voices counting, hearts racing.
Mitsunari stood off to the side, proud but focused. He knew how important this was, not just for his album but for them. This was the first time the world would see Block M as more than contestants. They were artists.
As the music hit the final chorus and the group landed in their ending pose, there was a moment of silence before the room erupted in applause from Tao and the staff.
Tao beamed. "That's the one. That's the energy I want to see on stage."
Block M had turned a choreography session into a celebration of their resilience. The path hadn't been easy, but every step had led to this.
As they gathered for a group photo at the end of rehearsal, Jun held up the camera and shouted, "Say survivor!"
And they did. Because that's exactly what they were.