A dormitory inside a retreat center on the outskirts of Gyeonggi-do was weighed down by a heavy atmosphere.
“Phew…”
Glancing sideways at the camera installed in her room, Lee Yuju shifted her gaze back to the score. Her face, hidden by her hair, was badly crumpled.
I can’t breathe…
Except for the bathroom, cameras were mounted everywhere inside the dorm. They never shut off, watching the contestants around the clock.
“Change clothes only in the bathroom.”
“Sleep and wake strictly at the set hours.”
“All voice is recorded, so watch what you say.”
“No snacks besides the provided meals.”
“If you start a fight, pack your bags and leave.”
As though they were idol trainees, everyday life was regulated and forced upon them.
Everything they ate, drank, or wore had to be product placement items supplied by the network.
No one dared object to such oppression because—
If they could just survive here, there was hope that the years they had traded for youth in an underground practice room would finally be repaid at once.
She was certain:
Make the Top 10 and love calls from famous agencies would pour in; college festivals and every kind of gig would flood her schedule, and life would improve.
With luck she might even land a commercial before the program ended.
Yes—just look at Yun Jae-i sitting next to her, so absorbed in jotting something on her tattered sheet music.
Scritch, scritch—
Thanks to the single title “Contestant chosen by HS,” Yun Jae-i had been cast as a model for a well-known fashion brand even before reaching the Top 10; every day a brand rep came to deliver the outfit she would wear.
They said she, as the strongest winner candidate, had received overwhelmingly more love calls than the rest…
She’s surely already signed with a big company.
Yuju’s simmering envy turned toward Jae-i. The production crew caught that spite with relish, and as a nasty little prank, they had put the two in the same room.
The tension between contestants provided plenty of juicy gossip around the water cooler.
She won’t let it go easily.
Watching Jae-i’s profile, Yuju muttered just loud enough to be heard:
“Jae-i, that pen noise is really bothering me. Could you do it outside?”
“S-sorry…”
“I can’t concentrate; the lyrics won’t stick. Please.”
She shoved her earphones deep into her ears again.
Annoying…
Since sharing a room, Yuju had watched Jae-i up close: a girl who seemed to ignore the cameras completely, never trying to stand out, spending every day clinging to score paper and guitar—as if she cared nothing for fame or success, posing as someone who’d die for music. It rubbed her the wrong way.
Hadn’t Jae-i been the very first to sign an ad deal?
Yuju convinced herself that Jae-i, too, was driven by the same lust for success.
Disgusting.
And her sharpened jealousy wasn’t aimed only at Jae-i. In this place, if the contestant next to you looked more popular or put on a better stage, you might be the one eliminated—that thought made it a living hell.
Everywhere were rivals, judges, and watchers. She worried night after night that an evil edit might turn the public against her, secretly searching her own name under the covers.
Naturally everyone was on edge.
Among tens of thousands who had prayed merely to reach the finals, only a hundred set foot here, and now just twenty remained—nineteen, after one withdrew.
In two nights’ time, ten would reach the long-desired Top 10, while nine would pack up and leave.
At the crossroads of joy and sorrow…
The anxiety that she might be one of those eliminated pushed Yuju—pushed all of them—toward the cliff’s edge.
Clack, clack—
Jae-i gathered her music and slipped out, trying not to disturb her.
Ding-dong!
Someone rang at their dorm door.
Probably the watchers—no, the production staff.
They were staff, but—
Who are they?
Summoned by a staffer, Yuju entered the business lounge and blinked, gauging the situation.
There sat PD Seong Gyu-jin and CP Ko Hyeon-deok—second only to the main PD in authority.
Approaching her was a man—
“Ms. Lee Yuju.”
A face she had never seen.
“I’ve been wanting to meet you.”
He extended a hand. The perfectly tailored suit screamed high-end, and when his sleeve slid up she saw a Rolex worth tens of millions of won.
“Ah—hello. May I ask who…?”
“Forgive me for the late introduction.”
Smiling slightly, he withdrew a business card from his inside pocket.
Huh…?
What caught Yuju’s eye was the watermark that shimmered whenever the platinum-edged card caught the light:
JN entertainment
—and below, embossed:
Executive Director Kim Woo-seok
“I’m Kim Woo-seok, executive director at JN Entertainment.”
Yuju covered her mouth with one hand, card in the other, staring back and forth between card and man.
“JN has been watching your performances on K-SingerStar. Your clear star quality seized our attention, so I came personally to offer you a contract.”
When he finished, Yuju took a sharp breath.
No way…
JN Entertainment ranks in Korea’s top three agencies—every aspiring singer’s dream.
She had never imagined receiving a card not from a casting manager but from a board director himself.
Crazy…
When she applied to the show she hadn’t even dared pray to win—only for this moment.
With the Top 10 looming she had driven herself, swearing that if she failed it would be death.
Clear that hurdle and everything would be repaid; a bright flower-strewn path awaited.
Now that path was shimmering before her eyes.
“Shall we sit and talk calmly?”
Kim guided her to the table with practiced ease.
“I trust you already know JN; we can go straight to the contract.”
“Y-yes, of course…”
She nodded like a devotee before a guru.
“Good. There’s hardly anything to examine. We’re offering terms unrivaled for a rookie.”
He spoke smoothly, watching her face.
“Most of all, we’ve structured it so you can join the girl-group JN is preparing immediately after the program—no trainee period.”
Yuju swallowed. “Yes…”
“I won’t pressure you to sign right now. Review it at leisure and sign later.”
He slid the neatly filed contract toward her.
“Thank you.”
She bowed politely. He nodded benevolently.
“Oh, one more thing.” He gestured discreetly at CP Ko and PD Seong off to the side.
“We’ve already arranged this with the CP and PD. If you sign with JN, you’re guaranteed to reach Top 2 in K-SingerStar. You might even win.”
“That’s right,” Seong added. “The production team has agreed to push you to Top 2. All you need is to choose.”
“Since JN will invest heavily, your live stage will far outclass the others.”
They poured grand promises into her ears.
“In short, you can debut in glory as one of the show’s Top 2.”
Kim finished with a meaningful smile.
“Gasp—”
Yuju dropped the contract onto the table, covering her mouth with both hands.
Isn’t this what people call dreams coming true?
Contact from JN alone was luck; a guaranteed Top 2? Unbelievable.
No reason to hesitate.
Hadn’t she been trembling in fear of elimination, watching her step around fellow contestants?
With debut and Top 2 assured, she’d no longer feel anxiety or need to play the wary game.
“I’ll sign right now!”
Blinded by success, she reached for a pen.
“Good choice. Sign or stamp your name in blank B.”
Without even reading the clauses, she scrawled her signature.
Scritch, scritch—
Watching her bent over the papers, Kim wore a sly smile.
“You’ll find in time you’ll never regret joining JN.”
“Thank you, thank you!”
She beamed—unaware of the poisonous provisions she had just sealed.
The next day—evaluation day before the Top 10 qualifiers.
“Honestly…”
Though it was a fairly important shoot—
“How should we break the news?”
Main PD, sub-PD, and even CP sat huddled in the business lounge.
“Sigh…”
PD Kim Young-ho exhaled, face full of concern.
“HS will be here any minute…”
They awaited HS, from whom they needed cooperation to eliminate someone—Yun Jae-i.
As the live rounds neared, large agencies had offered investments in return for pushing their chosen trainees into the Top 10.
Just yesterday JN’s executive Kim Woo-seok had deposited huge funds and, after signing Lee Yuju, requested she be placed in the Top 2.
Production costs were bleeding; CP Ko, long in mutual-aid with Kim Woo-seok, had accepted.
So with nine pre-selected by various backers, they had secretly debated which of the remaining eleven to drop.
“Yun Jae-i’s solid but her buzz is fading, and she keeps turning down agency offers… maybe better to lift Kang Hajun.”
“I agree,” Seong said. “Jae-i rides HS’s pass, but even LS didn’t sign her—must not see profit. Hajun already has fandom and is slated to debut under LS.”
Ko scratched his stubbly chin. “Then it’s Hajun.”
Thus the last Top-10 slot was given to Hajun. The other ten, unaware they were doomed, were probably still practicing at the tops of their lungs.
That includes Yun Jae-i.
Since HS had discovered her and even suggested her songs, they thought it best to inform him privately and ask his cooperation.
How long passed?
Knock, knock.
“It’s HS.”
“Come in!”
On Seong’s call, HS entered, helmet as always, Kim Sil-jang behind.
“It’s been a while,” Young-ho greeted.
Kim Sil-jang answered, “My schedule allowed, so I joined as manager.”
After everyone sat, silence fell.
Ko nudged Young-ho: Talk.
After clearing his throat, he asked the key question.
“Among contestants only Kang Hajun is under contract with LS, correct?”
Kim Sil-jang answered crisply, “Yes.”
That confirmed Yun Jae-i had no agency.
“As you know,” Young-ho began, “shows like this often have pre-selected finalists and ties to big agencies…”
He paused, glanced at HS’s unreadable helmet.
“To be direct, LS’s Hajun is one of the selected.”
HS replied flatly, “So from this round the production will intervene deeply.”
His tone brimmed with displeasure. Young-ho faltered, but—
“Yes,” Seong cut in, sliding a list. “Here are the names—please judge flexibly.”
Scanning it, HS murmured, “Yun Jae-i?”
“Yes. She’ll be eliminated. Her buzz is down, she rejects offers, not profitable. We think it’s best.”
He ended on a PD’s high-handed note.
“Fine,” HS said mildly after a beat. “Do as you like—it’s not my place.”
The staff sighed in relief—until he added,
“But if that’s the case, I’ll withdraw as well.”
The room fell into dead silence.
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