The plane touched down in Seoul with a jolt, pulling Jiayi out of a restless sleep. She blinked, disoriented, as the cabin lights flickered on and the passengers around her began to stir. Outside the window, the city stretched out in a sea of neon and steel, its skyline jagged and imposing against the night sky. It was nothing like Kingston. No palm trees were swaying in the breeze, and no reggae music drifting through the air. This city was cold and sharp, a labyrinth of glass and concrete that felt alien and unwelcoming.
Jiayi's stomach churned as she unbuckled her seatbelt and stood, her legs stiff from the long flight. She grabbed her backpack from the overhead compartment, her fingers brushing against the charred page she'd tucked inside. It was the only piece of her old life she'd brought with her, a fragile reminder of the mother she'd lost and the father who had believed in her.
Mei was waiting for her at the gate, her sleek black coat and designer heels a stark contrast to Jiayi's worn jeans and faded hoodie. She didn't smile as Jiayi approached, just nodded and turned on her heel, expecting Jiayi to follow.
"Welcome to Seoul," Mei said, her voice crisp and businesslike. "I hope you're ready to work."
Jiayi didn't respond. She just adjusted the straps of her backpack and followed Mei through the bustling airport, her eyes darting nervously at the crowds of people rushing past. The noise was overwhelming—the hum of conversation, the blare of announcements, the clatter of luggage wheels against the floor. It was a far cry from the quiet streets of Kingston, and Jiayi felt a pang of homesickness that she quickly pushed aside.
They stepped outside, and the cold hit her like a slap. She shivered, pulling her hoodie tighter around her, as Mei led her to a sleek black car idling at the curb. The driver, a man in a dark suit, nodded at Mei and opened the door for them.
Jiayi slid into the backseat, her eyes wide as she took in the luxurious interior. The seats were leather, the dashboard gleaming with high-tech displays. It was the kind of car her father had always dreamed of owning but could never afford.
Mei sat beside her, her posture perfect, her expression unreadable. "I've arranged for you to stay at my penthouse," she said, as the car pulled away from the curb. "It's in Gangnam, one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in the city. You'll have everything you need there."
Jiayi nodded, her throat tight. She didn't know what to say, didn't know how to feel. Everything was happening so fast, and she felt like she was being swept along by a current she couldn't control.
The drive into the city was a blur of lights and motion. Jiayi pressed her face against the window, her breath fogging up the glass as she stared out at the towering skyscrapers and flashing billboards. It was like nothing she'd ever seen before, a world of excess and ambition that felt both thrilling and terrifying.
And then she saw it.
A massive billboard loomed over the highway, its bright colors and bold text impossible to ignore. It was an advertisement for a K-pop group, their faces flawless and their smiles dazzling. But what caught Jiayi's attention was the girl in the center of the group. She was mixed-race, her features a blend of Asian and something else—maybe African, maybe Caribbean. Her hair was styled in loose curls, her skin glowing under the lights. She looked confident, powerful, like she belonged.
Jiayi's breath caught in her throat. She'd never seen anyone like her in a place like this. In Kingston, she'd always been the girl with the Chinese mother and the Jamaican father, the girl who didn't quite fit in anywhere. But here, in this city of strangers, she saw a reflection of herself—someone who didn't belong but was determined to make a place for herself anyway.
The car pulled up to a sleek high-rise building, its glass facade reflecting the city lights like a mirror. The driver opened the door, and Jiayi stepped out, her legs trembling as she looked up at the building. It was so tall, so imposing, that it made her feel small and insignificant.
Mei led her inside, past a doorman in a crisp uniform, and into a gleaming elevator. They rode up in silence, the numbers on the display climbing higher and higher until they reached the top floor.
The penthouse was everything Jiayi had imagined and more. The walls were white and minimalist, the furniture sleek and modern. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city, the lights stretching out as far as the eye could see. It was beautiful, but it felt cold and sterile, like a museum rather than a home.
Mei gestured to a hallway off the main living area. "Your room is down there. Make yourself comfortable. We'll start tomorrow."
Jiayi nodded, her throat tight. She didn't know what to say, didn't know how to thank Mei for this. But before she could try, Mei turned and walked away, her heels clicking against the polished floor.
Jiayi stood there for a moment, feeling lost and out of place. Then she made her way down the hallway and into the room Mei had indicated. It was spacious and well-appointed, with a large bed, a desk, and a closet filled with clothes that looked like they'd been bought specifically for her. But it didn't feel like hers. It felt like a hotel room, temporary and impersonal.
She set her backpack down on the bed and pulled out the charred page, her fingers tracing the smudged notes. It was the only thing in this room that felt real, the only thing that connected her to the life she'd left behind.
She sat down on the edge of the bed, her mind racing. She didn't know what she was doing here, didn't know if she could do this. But she didn't have a choice. She had to try, for her parents, for the land, for herself.
The next morning, Mei woke her early, her voice sharp and commanding. "Up. We have a lot to do."
Jiayi dragged herself out of bed, her body heavy with exhaustion. She hadn't slept well, her dreams filled with memories of Kingston and the accident. She dressed quickly, pulling on one of the outfits Mei had provided—a sleek black dress and heels that pinched her feet—and followed Mei out of the penthouse.
Their first stop was a recording studio, a sleek, state-of-the-art facility in the heart of the city. Jiayi's stomach churned as they walked inside, the walls lined with gold and platinum records. She felt like an imposter, a fraud who didn't belong in a place like this.
Mei led her into a soundproof booth and handed her a pair of headphones. "We're going to record a demo," she said, her tone brisk. "Something to show the producers at Starforge."
Jiayi's heart raced as she put on the headphones, her hands trembling. She hadn't sung in front of anyone since the accident, hadn't even tried. The thought of doing it now, in this unfamiliar place, was terrifying.
But Mei didn't give her time to think. She pressed a button on the console, and the music started—a soft, haunting melody that reminded Jiayi of the lullabies her mother used to sing.
Jiayi closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her. She could feel the notes in her chest, the rhythm in her bones. And then, without thinking, she began to sing.
Her voice was soft at first, tentative. But as the song went on, it grew stronger and more confident. She sang in Mandarin, the words flowing from her lips like water. It was the song from the charred page, the one her mother had written. And as she sang, she felt a connection to her mother, to her father, to the life she'd lost.
When the song ended, there was a long silence. Jiayi opened her eyes, her chest heaving, her hands trembling. She looked through the glass at Mei, who was staring at her with an unreadable expression.
Mei pressed a button, and her voice came through the speakers. "That was… unexpected."
Jiayi's heart sank. She'd messed up. She'd done something wrong.
But then Mei smiled, a small, satisfied smile. "It was perfect. Broken sells, Jiayi. And you're exactly what they're looking for."
Jiayi didn't know how to feel. She'd poured her heart into that song, into that performance. And now Mei was reducing it to a product, a commodity.
But before she could protest, Mei was already moving on. "We'll send the demo to Starforge today. If they like what they hear, we'll move forward with the audition."
Jiayi nodded, her throat tight. She didn't know what she'd gotten herself into, but she knew there was no turning back now.