Starlight in Shadows

Episode 1:

The streets of Seoul buzzed with energy. Neon lights danced on glossy posters of K-pop idols, their perfect smiles beaming down at the hopefuls gathered in front of Eclipse Entertainment. Inside the sleek, modern building, the audition hall was packed. Trainees whispered among themselves, nervously adjusting their outfits and stretching their limbs.

In a quiet corner, Seo Jae-min sat with his guitar, strumming absentmindedly. His sharp jawline and focused expression set him apart from the others. He wasn’t here to make friends—he had something to prove.

“Seo Jae-min,” a voice called.

Jae-min stood, slinging his guitar over his shoulder. The room fell silent as he walked to the stage.

The judges sat behind a long table, their faces unreadable. Choi Da-yun, the choreographer, leaned back in her chair, her piercing eyes fixed on him.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she said.

Jae-min nodded and took a breath. As his fingers moved across the guitar strings, his voice filled the room. The song, "Lost in Stardust," was raw, filled with a yearning that made the trainees stop whispering and simply listen.

When he finished, the silence lingered for a moment before the judges scribbled notes.

“Interesting,” one of them said.

Da-yun, however, tilted her head. “You have potential,” she said coolly. “But potential means nothing without discipline.”

Jae-min bowed, her words a weight on his shoulders as he left the stage.

In the waiting area, Kim Hye-rin stretched her arms, her long black hair tied in a sleek ponytail. Her confidence was palpable, and other trainees glanced at her with a mix of envy and admiration.

“Hye-rin, you’re up,” someone called.

She stepped onto the stage, her posture perfect. The music began, and her body came alive, each movement sharp and precise. She owned the stage, or so it seemed—until her eyes flickered to her phone on the bench.

The screen glowed with a message: "We know what you’re hiding. Keep dancing."

Her rhythm faltered, a half-second offbeat. She recovered quickly, finishing with a flourish, but the judges noticed. Da-yun’s gaze was sharp, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Good control,” one judge said, though their tone was less enthusiastic.

Hye-rin bowed, her heart pounding as she left the stage.

Up in the production booth, Lee Sun-woo observed everything. His sharp eyes missed nothing—the falters, the brilliance, the tension. He scribbled notes, pausing only when Hye-rin appeared on stage.

“Do I know her?” he muttered, leaning forward.

The thought lingered, but the next performer was already being called.

Kang Min-ji stood trembling at the edge of the stage. Her golden-brown hair framed her round face, her big eyes filled with uncertainty.

“It’s now or never,” she whispered to herself as she stepped into the light.

The music started, and Min-ji’s voice filled the room. The ballad, "Invisible Dream," was haunting, her voice pure and emotional. For a moment, she seemed to forget her nerves.

As her final note faded, the room was silent, and then a soft wave of applause followed.

“She’s good,” someone whispered.
“But she’s got no connections here,” another muttered.

Min-ji heard it all, her cheeks burning as she left the stage.

In the hallway, she nearly collided with Jae-min. He stopped her with a small smile.

“You were amazing,” he said simply.

Her eyes widened. “Th-thank you,” she stammered, her face reddening further.

That evening, Da-yun lingered in the practice room, reviewing footage of the auditions. When she opened her locker, a plain envelope fell out.

Inside was a note, written in sharp, black letters:
“Keep the truth buried, or everything falls apart.”

Da-yun’s fingers clenched around the paper. “This again?” she muttered under her breath. “How long will this go on?”

She shoved the note into her pocket, her mind racing.

Jae-min retreated to the rooftop for some air, his guitar slung over his back. The city lights stretched before him, a glowing sea of opportunity and chaos. He wasn’t expecting anyone else, but as he turned, he saw Hye-rin leaning against the railing.

“Rough day?” he asked, approaching slowly.

She straightened, wiping her eyes quickly. “Aren’t they all?”

He nodded, his gaze falling to the phone in her hand. The screen lit up briefly with a message he couldn’t make out.

“None of your business,” she snapped, shoving the phone into her pocket and walking away.

Jae-min watched her go, unease curling in his stomach.

Deep in the Eclipse Entertainment offices, a shadowy figure sat in front of a monitor, their face obscured. The screen displayed footage of the auditions, but with a few keystrokes, segments of the recordings vanished.

“The game begins now,” the figure whispered, their voice low and dangerous.

The monitor flickered off, and the room was plunged into darkness.

The screen fades to black. The ending theme plays, a bittersweet melody laced with tension, leaving the audience eager for what comes next.

Episode 2:

The sun rose over Seoul, casting a golden glow across the sleek skyscrapers, including the imposing glass façade of Eclipse Entertainment. Inside the training hall, a palpable tension filled the air as the remaining trainees gathered. Their murmurs were hushed, their gazes fixed on the massive LED screen that displayed a single phrase: Elimination Challenge Today.

Choi Da-yun stood at the front of the room, her arms crossed and her sharp gaze scanning the group. Her very presence commanded silence, and when she clapped her hands, the trainees fell quiet.

“Congratulations,” she began, her tone cold and clipped. “You’ve made it through the first round. But let me be clear—this is where the real challenge begins.”

She paused, allowing the weight of her words to settle over the room. “Today’s task will not only test your talent but your ability to thrive under pressure. This is a duet challenge. You and a partner will prepare a performance together—vocals, choreography, and stage presence. But only one of you will advance. The other will be eliminated.”

A ripple of shock spread through the room. Gasps and murmurs filled the air, but Da-yun silenced them with a single sharp look.

“Pairings will be assigned. You have five hours to prepare. Impress us, or pack your things.”

As an assistant read out the names, Jae-min glanced around the room, his expression unreadable. “Seo Jae-min and Kang Min-ji,” the assistant called. Jae-min’s eyes met Min-ji’s across the room. She seemed frozen, her wide eyes betraying her nervousness.

Meanwhile, Hye-rin’s name was paired with Han Soo-jin, a tall, commanding trainee who wasted no time sizing her up. Soo-jin’s smirk was sharp, almost predatory, and Hye-rin’s jaw tightened in response.

Jae-min and Min-ji’s Practice

The small practice room was lined with mirrors, reflecting the tension between Jae-min and Min-ji as they stood awkwardly near each other. Jae-min adjusted the strap of his guitar, breaking the silence.

“Well,” he said, his voice calm, “we’d better get started.”

Min-ji nodded, her hands gripping the edges of her sheet music. “I guess… we’re rivals now,” she joked weakly.

Jae-min offered a faint smile. “Let’s focus on putting on a good show first. Worry about the rivalry later.”

They started practicing, their voices blending in harmony as they worked through the song. Jae-min’s smooth, confident delivery steadied Min-ji’s nerves, and her voice grew stronger as they rehearsed. But when it came to the choreography, Min-ji struggled. Her movements were hesitant, her timing off.

“Left foot first,” Jae-min said gently after she stumbled for the third time. “Then spin.”

Min-ji sighed in frustration, brushing her hair back from her face. “I know. I just… I can’t get it right.”

“You’re doing fine,” Jae-min reassured her. “Let’s try again.”

She looked at him, his quiet confidence oddly reassuring, and nodded. “Okay.”

Hye-rin and Soo-jin’s Practice

In another practice room, the atmosphere was much less forgiving. Soo-jin’s movements were sharp and precise, her voice snapping through corrections like a whip.

“You’re off-beat again,” Soo-jin said, stopping mid-dance to glare at Hye-rin. “If you mess this up, it’s on you.”

Hye-rin’s jaw clenched, but she said nothing. Her mind was elsewhere, distracted by the cryptic messages she’d been receiving. The words still haunted her: “We know what you’re hiding.” She shook her head, trying to focus, but the distraction lingered.

“I said, again!” Soo-jin barked, and Hye-rin forced herself to move, ignoring the burning in her chest.

A Moment of Connection

Jae-min and Min-ji took a break by the window, overlooking the sprawling city below. The muffled sounds of other trainees practicing echoed down the hall, but in the quiet of their shared moment, neither spoke for a long time.

“You’re really good, you know,” Min-ji said finally, her voice soft. She glanced at Jae-min, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

He looked up, his dark eyes thoughtful. “Thanks,” he said after a pause. “But it’s not as easy as it looks.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

He hesitated, then shrugged. “Let’s just say… I’ve been through a lot to get here.”

Min-ji nodded slowly. “We all have, I guess,” she murmured.

For a moment, their gazes met, a quiet understanding passing between them. Then the sound of a distant call broke the moment, and they stood, returning to practice.

The Performances

The trainees gathered in the performance hall, where the judges waited in their seats. One by one, pairs took the stage, each trying to outshine the other.

When it was Jae-min and Min-ji’s turn, the room fell silent. Jae-min began, his guitar filling the air with a warm, melodic sound. His voice was smooth, drawing the audience in, and Min-ji’s followed, her tone trembling at first but growing stronger as she sang. Their voices harmonized beautifully, creating a performance that was heartfelt and emotional.

Min-ji stumbled slightly during the choreography, but her raw vulnerability shone through, earning a murmur of approval from the audience.

Hye-rin and Soo-jin followed with a sharp, high-energy routine. Soo-jin’s precision was flawless, commanding attention with her every move. But it was Hye-rin who held the judges’ eyes. Despite her mistakes, there was something magnetic about her presence—a quiet intensity that lingered even after the music stopped.

The Results

Da-yun stood at the front of the room, a tablet in her hand. The tension was suffocating as she began to read the results.

“For each pair, one will advance. The other will be eliminated.”

Her words cut through the silence like a knife.

“Seo Jae-min,” she said, glancing at him, “you move forward.”

Min-ji bowed, a forced smile on her face, but her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

“Kim Hye-rin,” Da-yun continued. “You’re advancing.”

Soo-jin’s expression hardened, but she bowed stiffly and left the stage without a word.

Aftermath

In the hallway, Min-ji sat alone, her head in her hands. Jae-min found her there, his footsteps soft.

“You were amazing,” he said, his voice gentle.

Min-ji looked up, her eyes red. “It wasn’t enough,” she whispered.

Jae-min hesitated, then placed a hand on her shoulder. “This isn’t the end. Don’t give up.”

Elsewhere, Hye-rin opened her locker to find another note waiting for her: “You’re one step closer. Don’t forget who put you here.”

Her fingers trembled as she crumpled the note, her mind spinning with questions and fears.

Final Scene

In a dark office, Da-yun sat alone, staring at a photograph in her hands. Though the faces in the picture were blurred, her expression was tight, almost pained.

“I can’t let this fall apart,” she muttered.

Meanwhile, a shadowy figure sat at a monitor, their face obscured. CCTV footage from the day’s rehearsals played on the screen, and with a few keystrokes, the figure deleted several key segments.

“This is just the beginning,” they murmured, their voice low and cold.

The screen faded to black.

Episode 3:

The practice rooms at Eclipse Entertainment had never felt colder. Hye-rin stood by the window, staring at the crumpled note in her trembling hands. The words written on it—“You’re one step closer. Don’t forget who put you here.”—burned into her mind like a brand.

She took a shaky breath, crumpling the paper even tighter before shoving it into her pocket. Her reflection in the glass stared back at her, and for a brief moment, she didn’t recognize the girl with tired eyes and forced confidence.

“Hye-rin?”

She jolted at the sound of Jae-min’s voice behind her. He stood at the door, leaning casually against the frame, his expression curious yet gentle. “You okay?”

Hye-rin forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah. Just... a lot on my mind.”

Jae-min didn’t press further, but his eyes lingered on her, as if sensing something deeper. “Come on. They’re announcing the next challenge soon.”

She nodded and followed him out, feeling the weight of the note still pressing against her skin.

The Next Challenge

Inside the main hall, the trainees gathered once more under the watchful gaze of Choi Da-yun. She stood at the front, impeccably dressed, her arms crossed in front of her.

“Listen up,” she said sharply. “We’ve weeded out the weak, but this is far from over. The next round will test more than just your talent. It will test your adaptability. Your ability to work as a team.”

A low murmur spread through the crowd. Da-yun’s lips curled in a faint smirk. “Your challenge is to form trios and create an entirely new performance—song, choreography, and concept. You’ll have twenty-four hours.”

Twenty-four hours? The room collectively tensed.

“The stakes?” Da-yun continued, pacing slowly. “The losing team... will face a special evaluation. And let me warn you—it won’t be pretty.”

Hye-rin swallowed hard, while beside her, Soo-jin looked unfazed, her arms crossed confidently.

“Choose your teams carefully,” Da-yun said. “You’re dismissed.”

As soon as she left, chaos erupted. Trainees swarmed to form groups, alliances forming and breaking within seconds.

Jae-min glanced at Min-ji, who stood uncertainly on the edge of the room. “Let’s team up,” he suggested.

Her face lit up with relief. “Really?”

“We need a third,” Hye-rin said, approaching them cautiously. “Mind if I join?”

Jae-min and Min-ji exchanged glances, and Min-ji smiled. “We’d love to have you.”

In the corner of the room, Soo-jin watched them with narrowed eyes before turning to whisper something to another trainee. Hye-rin could feel her gaze burning into her back.

Building the Performance

Back in their assigned practice room, the trio sat in a circle, brainstorming ideas. Jae-min strummed lightly on his guitar, humming a melody under his breath.

“We need something fresh,” he said. “Something that stands out.”

Min-ji nodded eagerly. “What about a concept that’s more emotional? Something raw?”

Hye-rin, lost in thought, tapped her fingers against her knee. “We should focus on storytelling,” she suggested softly. “Something that resonates with people.”

Jae-min’s lips quirked up. “I like that.”

As they worked, tensions occasionally flared—Min-ji struggled with complex choreography, Hye-rin’s vocals faltered, and Jae-min grew frustrated trying to tie everything together.

“You’re rushing the tempo,” Hye-rin pointed out during one rehearsal, wiping sweat from her brow.

Jae-min frowned, adjusting his grip on the guitar. “I’m just trying to keep up with you two.”

Min-ji sighed. “We’re all trying. Let’s just... take a breather.”

As they paused, Jae-min noticed Hye-rin glancing at her phone, her expression troubled. He frowned. “Something wrong?”

She hesitated before shaking her head. “No. Just tired.”

But he wasn’t convinced.

Soo-jin's Plan

Meanwhile, Soo-jin’s team practiced in another room. Unlike Jae-min’s group, their dynamic was cutthroat. Soo-jin barked instructions, pushing her teammates to their limits.

“We’re not here to play nice,” she said coldly. “We’re here to win.”

But behind her fierce determination was a plan brewing—a plan she was keeping close to her chest.

In the hallway, she met with a mysterious figure. “I need that footage,” she whispered. “Hye-rin can’t stay in this competition.”

The figure nodded and slipped her a flash drive. Soo-jin smirked. “Let’s see how long she lasts.”

Rehearsal Pressure

Back in the practice room, exhaustion weighed heavy on Jae-min’s group. The choreography wasn’t syncing, and Min-ji’s confidence was visibly cracking.

“I’m holding you guys back,” she muttered, wiping tears from her eyes.

Hye-rin crouched beside her. “No, you’re not. We’ll get through this together.”

Jae-min watched, surprised by the gentleness in Hye-rin’s voice. It was rare to see her let her guard down.

That night, they stayed late, perfecting their routine. With each hour, their synergy grew stronger.

Performance Day

The next morning, the trainees gathered in the performance hall. Each group took the stage one by one, nerves visible in every step.

When Jae-min’s team was called, they exchanged one last reassuring glance before stepping onto the stage.

The music started. Jae-min’s voice rang out clear and steady, leading the performance with heartfelt emotion. Min-ji’s voice, though trembling, added a raw vulnerability that drew the audience in. Hye-rin, despite her earlier doubts, commanded the stage with her presence, her eyes filled with determination.

As their routine ended, the judges whispered among themselves.

Soo-jin’s team followed next, their performance sleek and powerful—but something felt calculated, almost too perfect.

The Results

After all performances, Da-yun stood once more, her expression impassive.

“Seo Jae-min, Kang Min-ji, Kim Hye-rin,” she called. “You’ve passed.”

Relief flooded through them as they bowed deeply.

Then, Da-yun’s gaze darkened. “However... there was an issue.” She turned toward Hye-rin. “A... discrepancy in your background check.”

Hye-rin’s heart stopped.

“What?” Jae-min asked, alarmed.

Da-yun’s assistant handed her a folder. “It seems someone has been hiding things from us.”

The room buzzed with whispers, and Hye-rin felt her knees weaken. From across the hall, Soo-jin smirked triumphantly.

Final Scene

Late that night, Hye-rin sat alone in the empty practice room, her hands shaking as she stared at the envelope Da-yun had given her.

Inside was a single photograph of her—except it wasn’t from the competition. It was from a past she thought she had buried long ago.

Tears welled in her eyes as she whispered, “Who’s doing this to me?”

Outside the room, Soo-jin walked past with a satisfied grin, her voice barely audible.

“This is only the beginning.”

Episode 4:

Hye-rin sat frozen in the empty practice room, the envelope trembling in her hands. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she stared at the photograph inside—an image from years ago, of a younger version of herself standing in front of a dingy nightclub. The neon lights in the background cast an eerie glow over her face, highlighting the fear and desperation in her eyes.

How did they find this?

She swallowed hard, her thoughts racing. That night—the one she had buried deep inside her—was supposed to stay forgotten.

The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway. Panicking, she shoved the envelope into her bag and wiped her eyes just as the door creaked open.

“Hye-rin?” Jae-min’s voice was gentle, but his brows furrowed in concern. “What are you still doing here?”

Hye-rin forced a smile. “Just... thinking about our performance.”

Jae-min studied her carefully, sensing the cracks in her mask. “You sure everything’s okay?”

She nodded quickly, too quickly. “Of course. I should get some rest.”

Before he could question her further, she grabbed her bag and slipped past him, leaving Jae-min standing in the empty room, his eyes lingering on the spot where she had been sitting.

Unraveling Threads

The next morning, the tension in the dormitory was suffocating. The news of Hye-rin’s “discrepancy” had spread like wildfire, and whispers followed her wherever she went.

“I heard she was involved in something shady.”

“Maybe she bribed her way in?”

Min-ji found her sitting at the cafeteria alone, picking at a bowl of rice. She hesitated before sitting across from her. “Hey... don’t listen to them. They don’t know anything.”

Hye-rin’s grip on her chopsticks tightened. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Min-ji said softly. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

Hye-rin sighed, her eyes tired. “It’s just... I worked so hard to get here. I can’t let this ruin everything.”

Min-ji reached out and squeezed her hand gently. “Then don’t. We’ll get through this together.”

From across the room, Soo-jin watched the exchange, a smirk playing on her lips. She leaned over to her teammate and whispered, “Let’s see how long she can keep that brave face.”

The Power Struggle

In the upper floors of Eclipse Entertainment, Choi Da-yun sat in her office, scrolling through the latest trainee reports. The door creaked open, and an executive in a sharp suit walked in, his expression serious.

“Da-yun,” he said, closing the door behind him. “We need to talk about Kim Hye-rin.”

She sighed, rubbing her temples. “What now?”

“There are... concerns,” he said, sliding a folder across her desk. “If this scandal gets out, it could ruin our reputation. We need to cut our losses.”

Da-yun’s expression darkened. “She’s one of our most promising trainees. I’m not letting go of talent that easily.”

The executive frowned. “Talent won’t matter if the media gets wind of this.”

Da-yun’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll handle it.”

As the executive left, she picked up the folder, flipping through the pages. Her lips curled into a tight line. Who’s trying to sabotage her?

The Next Challenge: A Deceptive Game

Later that afternoon, the trainees gathered in the studio, their nerves stretched thin. Da-yun stood at the front, her usual composed demeanor in place.

“This week’s challenge will be... different,” she announced. “It’s called ‘The Deceptive Stage.’”

Curious murmurs rippled through the room.

“You will be paired randomly and given a theme to prepare a stage performance. However, only one person will be judged from each pair based on an anonymous vote by your peers.”

Whispers broke out instantly. This challenge wasn’t just about talent; it was a test of popularity, manipulation, and trust.

Hye-rin’s heart sank. This is exactly what they want—to isolate me.

Min-ji nudged her gently. “We’ll make it through.”

Jae-min, standing nearby, caught their exchange and gave Hye-rin a reassuring nod.

Pairings were announced, and to Hye-rin’s dismay, she was partnered with Soo-jin. The room fell silent for a moment, everyone sensing the tension crackling between them. Soo-jin simply smiled, her eyes glinting with mischief.

“Looks like we’re partners,” Soo-jin said sweetly. “Let’s make it count.”

Hye-rin forced a tight smile. “Yeah. Let’s.”

Behind Closed Doors

Practicing with Soo-jin was like dancing with a snake. She was all smiles and sweet words in front of others, but the moment they were alone, her true colors showed.

“You’re lucky they’re even letting you stay,” Soo-jin said, stretching in front of the mirror. “I would’ve cut you the second that folder came out.”

Hye-rin clenched her fists. “I don’t care what you think, Soo-jin. Let’s just focus on the performance.”

Soo-jin chuckled, flipping her hair. “Oh, I am. I just don’t think you should get your hopes up. No one’s going to vote for a girl with a dirty past.”

Hye-rin’s chest tightened, but she refused to give Soo-jin the satisfaction of seeing her break.

“We’ll see,” she said quietly, turning back to the mirror.

Rehearsal Tension

Jae-min watched from across the practice hall, his eyes locked on Hye-rin and Soo-jin’s tense interaction. He didn’t like the way Soo-jin hovered over Hye-rin, whispering things he couldn’t hear.

“Do you think Hye-rin’s okay?” Min-ji asked softly beside him.

Jae-min sighed. “No. But I don’t think she’ll tell us even if she’s not.”

Min-ji chewed on her lip nervously. “We have to do something.”

“I know,” Jae-min murmured. “But she has to want our help first.”

The Performance Day

The stage was set once again, the lights shining brightly as each pair took their turn. When it was finally Hye-rin and Soo-jin’s turn, the atmosphere shifted.

Their performance was flawless, their voices blending perfectly, the choreography executed with precision. But something was off—Hye-rin could feel it.

When the performance ended, the judges nodded in approval, and the voting began. Each trainee was handed a small slip of paper to write down the name of the performer they thought deserved to advance.

Hye-rin watched as Soo-jin smirked confidently, her gaze never leaving her.

Minutes later, Da-yun collected the votes, scanning them briefly before speaking. “The winner of this round... is Soo-jin.”

A polite round of applause filled the room, but Hye-rin could hear the whispers behind her back.

Soo-jin leaned in close as they left the stage, whispering, “I told you. No one’s on your side.”

Hye-rin’s heart sank, but as she looked into the crowd, she caught Jae-min’s steady gaze and Min-ji’s encouraging smile.

Maybe she wasn’t as alone as she thought.

Final Scene

Later that night, Hye-rin sat on the rooftop, staring up at the dark sky. The city lights twinkled below, and she exhaled slowly, her breath fogging in the cold air.

A voice interrupted her thoughts. “You can’t let her win, you know.”

She turned to see Jae-min standing there, his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t know if I can,” she admitted.

He sat beside her. “You can. And you will.”

Hye-rin glanced at him, and for the first time in a while, she allowed herself a small, genuine smile.

“I hope so.”

Episode 5:

The dormitory halls were quieter than usual that night, but inside Hye-rin’s mind, everything was chaos. She lay in bed staring at the ceiling, Soo-jin’s smug expression burned into her memory. The echoes of the earlier whispers followed her even here.

“No one’s on your side.”

Her fingers clenched around the edge of her blanket. She hated how much those words got to her. Just as sleep threatened to take over, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. Reluctantly, she reached for it and frowned.

Unknown Number: “You’re running out of time. Stop pretending.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

She quickly sat up, her pulse pounding. Who was behind this? And how much did they know?

Min-ji stirred in the bed across the room, blinking sleepily. “Hye-rin? You okay?”

Hye-rin forced a smile, shoving the phone under her pillow. “Yeah. Just... thinking too much.”

Min-ji yawned. “Try to sleep, okay? We need our strength for tomorrow.”

Hye-rin nodded, but sleep was the last thing on her mind.

The Pressure Builds

The next day, the tension within the company felt suffocating. With the latest challenge over, everyone’s focus was now on the upcoming ‘Concept Evaluation’—a critical test that would determine who advanced to the next level of training. The pressure was mounting, and every trainee felt it.

In the practice room, Hye-rin struggled to concentrate. Her movements were stiff, her voice off-key, and every time she looked at Soo-jin, all she saw was betrayal.

“Stop,” the instructor barked, frustration clear in his voice. “Hye-rin, if your head isn’t in this, you’re wasting everyone’s time.”

She bowed quickly. “I’m sorry, I’ll do better.”

Soo-jin smirked from the corner. “You sure you can handle this, unnie? Maybe you should just quit while you’re ahead.”

Before Hye-rin could respond, Jae-min stepped between them, his jaw tight. “Back off, Soo-jin.”

Soo-jin raised an eyebrow but sauntered away, her lips curling in amusement. “Relax, oppa. Just looking out for her.”

Jae-min turned to Hye-rin, his voice softer. “You okay?”

Hye-rin nodded, biting back the frustration bubbling inside. “I’m fine. Let’s just practice.”

But Jae-min wasn’t convinced.

A Secret Revealed

Later that afternoon, Min-ji rushed into the dorm room, her face pale with worry. “Hye-rin, you need to see this.”

Hye-rin turned, confused, as Min-ji handed her a tablet. A gossip site was open on the screen, displaying an article with a blurry image of her past self—the same photo from the mysterious envelope. The headline read:

“Scandal in Eclipse Entertainment? Rising Trainee Kim Hye-rin’s Troubled Past Exposed!”

Hye-rin’s blood ran cold. She gripped the device tighter, her breathing shallow. “Who... who leaked this?”

Min-ji bit her lip. “I don’t know, but everyone’s talking about it.”

Just then, Jae-min appeared at the door, his face dark with concern. “We need to find out who’s behind this. Fast.”

Hye-rin stared at the article, humiliation and anger swirling inside her. “I think I already know.”

Confrontation

Hye-rin stormed into the break room, where Soo-jin lounged with a group of trainees. Her eyes locked onto her rival with an intensity that silenced the room.

“You did this, didn’t you?” Hye-rin demanded, slamming the tablet onto the table.

Soo-jin feigned innocence, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Did what?”

“Don’t play dumb! You leaked my past.”

Soo-jin leaned forward, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “Even if I did, what can you do about it? The truth always comes out eventually, unnie.”

Hye-rin’s hands trembled, but before she could lash out, Jae-min gently pulled her back. “She’s not worth it,” he murmured.

Soo-jin watched them leave, her smirk never fading. She had planted the seed of doubt—now she just had to watch it grow.

The Cost of the Past

That evening, Hye-rin sat outside the dorm building, staring at the city skyline. The lights blurred in her vision as tears pricked her eyes. She thought she had moved on from her past, but it was clawing its way back with a vengeance.

Jae-min sat beside her, silent for a long moment before speaking. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She hesitated. “I thought... if I worked hard enough, I could leave it all behind.”

Jae-min nodded, understanding in his gaze. “You don’t have to fight this alone, you know.”

Hye-rin swallowed the lump in her throat. “It’s not that easy, Jae-min.”

“No,” he said softly. “But it’s easier when you have people who care.”

Hye-rin looked at him, a tiny smile forming despite everything. “Thanks.”

A New Resolve

The next morning, Hye-rin walked into the practice room with renewed determination. She wasn’t going to let Soo-jin win. Not like this.

Min-ji and Jae-min watched as she adjusted the mic and squared her shoulders. “Let’s do this,” she said firmly.

Soo-jin, watching from across the room, narrowed her eyes. So, you’re still standing?

But Hye-rin’s fire had been reignited. She wasn’t going down without a fight.

Episode 6:

Coming Soon...