I walked into the practice with something different settling in my chest—not confidence exactly, but a quieter resolve.
The mirrors reflected the same face, the same doubts, but the frantic energy from yesterday had dulled to a steady hum.
Haejun signaled for the music to start, his usual sharp clap cutting through the air.
I took my position, feeling the familiar weight of eight pairs of eyes tracking my movements.
But instead of the paralyzing self-consciousness that usually followed, I simply... began.
The opening sequence flowed through me, muscle memory guiding my limbs.
When my left foot landed slightly behind the beat, I adjusted mid-step without stopping.
When my arm extension fell short during the chorus section, I corrected the angle on the next repetition.
No apologies. No panicked glances toward Haejun. Just quiet adjustments that kept the flow intact.
During the vocal climax, I felt my breath support waver on the highest note.
