The results of the first task were announced in a tense, dimly lit auditorium. The contestants sat in rows, their faces pale under the harsh fluorescent lights. Jiayi sat between Raj and Yoona, her hands clenched in her lap, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure everyone could hear it. The judges stood on stage, their expressions unreadable as they prepared to deliver the verdicts.
One by one, they called out the names of the contestants who had made it through to the next round. Each name was met with cheers, tears, or stunned silence. Jiayi's stomach churned as the list grew shorter and shorter. She didn't hear her name. She didn't expect to.
And then, finally, the last name was called.
"Jiayi."
The room erupted into murmurs. Jiayi froze, her breath catching in her throat. She couldn't believe it. She'd made it. Somehow, she'd made it.
Raj nudged her with an elbow, grinning. "Told you. Raw and real sells."
Yoona, on the other hand, looked furious. "This is a joke," she muttered under her breath. "They're just keeping her for the drama."
Jiayi ignored her, her mind racing. She didn't know how she'd survived, but she wasn't going to question it. Not yet.
The backlash came quickly. By the next morning, Jiayi's audition had gone viral. Clips of her humming the Jamaican folk tune were everywhere, accompanied by heated debates in the comments.
"Who let a beggar into K-pop?" one user wrote. "She can't even sing in Korean."
"Finally, someone real!" another countered. "The industry needs more diversity."
"She's a charity case," a third added. "They're just keeping her for the sob story."
Jiayi scrolled through the comments on her phone, her chest tightening with each one. She knew she shouldn't read them, knew they would only make her feel worse, but she couldn't help herself. The words stung, each one a reminder of how out of place she was.
Raj found her in the dorm's common room, curled up on a couch with her hoodie pulled over her head. "Hey," they said, sitting down beside her. "You okay?"
Jiayi shook her head, her throat too tight to speak.
Raj sighed, their expression softening. "Listen, the internet is a cesspool. Don't let it get to you. You're here because you deserve to be. End of story."
Jiayi wanted to believe them, but the doubt lingered, a heavy weight in her chest. She didn't know if she deserved to be here. She didn't know if she belonged.
The next challenge was announced later that day. The contestants were divided into teams and tasked with performing a K-pop hit as a group. Jiayi was placed in a team with Yoona and two other girls, both of whom looked at her with thinly veiled disdain.
"Great," Yoona said, rolling her eyes. "We're stuck with the charity case."
Jiayi ignored her, focusing on the song they'd been assigned. It was a popular girl group hit, fast-paced and high-energy, with complex choreography and rapid-fire lyrics. Jiayi's stomach churned as she listened to the track. She didn't know how she was supposed to keep up.
The first rehearsal was a disaster. Jiayi stumbled through the choreography, her movements clumsy and out of sync. She struggled with the Korean lyrics, her pronunciation awkward and halting. Yoona and the other girls grew increasingly frustrated, their patience wearing thin.
"Can you even dance?" one of the girls snapped after Jiayi missed a step for the third time. "Or are you just here to waste our time?"
Jiayi flinched, her cheeks burning. "I'm trying," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Try harder," Yoona shot back. "We don't have time for your pity party."
Jiayi's chest tightened, and she looked away, her eyes stinging with tears. She didn't know how much more of this she could take.
That night, Jiayi found herself in the dorm's bathroom, sitting on the floor of a stall with her knees pulled to her chest. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, her heart racing as the walls seemed to close in around her. She felt like she was drowning, the weight of everything—the competition, the criticism, the pressure—pressing down on her until she couldn't breathe.
She didn't know how long she sat there, her mind spinning in circles, before she heard a soft knock on the stall door.
"Jiayi?" It was Raj. "You in there?"
Jiayi didn't respond, her throat too tight to speak.
Raj sighed and slid down to sit on the floor outside the stall. "Hey, it's okay. You're okay. Just breathe with me, alright? In… and out. In… and out."
Jiayi closed her eyes and tried to follow Raj's voice, matching her breaths to theirs. Slowly, the tightness in her chest began to ease, her heart rate slowing as the panic receded.
"There you go," Raj said softly. "You're doing great."
Jiayi took a deep, shuddering breath and wiped her eyes. "Thanks," she whispered.
"Anytime," Raj said. "You're not alone in this, okay? We're all struggling. Even Yoona, though she'd never admit it."
Jiayi managed a small smile. "She hates me."
"She hates everyone," Raj said with a laugh. "But seriously, don't let her get to you. You're stronger than you think."
Jiayi nodded, though she wasn't sure she believed it. But for the first time in a long time, she felt a flicker of hope. Maybe she could do this. Maybe she could survive.
The next day, Jiayi walked into rehearsal with her head held high. Yoona and the other girls were already there, practicing the choreography with flawless precision. Jiayi took a deep breath and joined them, her movements still clumsy but more determined than before.
When it came time to sing, she stumbled over the Korean lyrics again, but this time, she didn't stop. She improvised, weaving in a few lines of Patois rap that flowed naturally from her lips. The room fell silent as she finished, the other girls staring at her in surprise.
Yoona rolled her eyes. "What was that?"
But before Jiayi could respond, one of the judges—Mino, the legendary producer—walked in. He'd been observing the rehearsals, his sharp eyes missing nothing. He clapped slowly, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Interesting," he said. "Raw energy. I like it."
Jiayi's cheeks flushed, but she stood a little taller. For the first time, she felt like maybe, just maybe, she had a chance.