I sat in the vanity chair, motionless, while the hairstylist tugged at my hair. My makeup was already finished, and I forced myself to sit still until she was done. I'd only slept three hours before heading to the company.
Today was evaluation day.
Even though we were the official debut team, nothing was guaranteed. If the producers weren't satisfied with our performance, they could replace us without hesitation. That thought had all of us tied up in nerves—at least, whenever I was awake enough to feel them. Right now, sleep deprivation left me hollow. All I wanted was a bed and a hot meal. But I couldn't afford to slack off. I was already the weakest member. To stand beside the others, I needed to give twice as much.
When my hair was finally done, I slumped onto the couch and pulled out my phone, scrolling to calm my nerves. That's when I saw it—an Instagram DM.
@starlite.ent_official
My chest tightened. Starlite Entertainment
Dear Kai Song,
We hope this message finds you well. My name is Yoon Hye-jin, representative from Starlite Entertainment, a company dedicated to discovering and nurturing the next generation of global K-pop artists.
After observing your talent and potential, we are highly impressed by your performance skills, presence, and passion. We believe you have the qualities to become a standout artist in the K-pop industry.
We are currently in the process of preparing for an exciting new group debut, and we are actively seeking exceptional individuals to join this project. We would be honored to discuss the possibility of you training and debuting under our company.
If you're interested in exploring this opportunity further, we would love to set up a meeting with you (either online or in person) to share more details about our upcoming plans, training system, and vision for your career.
Please reply to this message or contact us at xxx-xxx-xxxx at your earliest convenience.
We look forward to the possibility of working with you and shaping a brilliant future together.
Warm regards,
Kai Song
Director Yoon Hye-jin
Starlite Entertainment
It was the fouth time they'd contacted me. I shut my phone off and closed my eyes, sinking into the couch. But the words wouldn't leave me.
I remembered the first time they reached out.
--
Normally, trainees weren't even allowed to have Instagram. Too dangerous. Other companies might swoop in and lure us away. But since I had already signed HY-PE's contract, there was no way out—unless I was eliminated.
I'd been on break with the others, mindlessly scrolling, when the first message appeared:
DM from @starlite.ent_official
Sent 11:02 AM
Hi Kai,
I hope you're doing well. I know you're currently training under HY-PE, and congratulations on making it into their pre-debut lineup—that's no small feat. You've definitely caught the attention of a lot of people in the industry, including us.
I'm reaching out from Starlite Entertainment, a smaller agency, but one that's passionate about developing real talent from the ground up.
We understand things can be uncertain even at the biggest companies—plans shift, groups change, and sometimes incredible trainees don't get the opportunities they deserve. We just wanted to say: If things don't go as expected, or if you ever feel overlooked, please know our doors are open.
We're building something new. And someone like you could help define it.
No pressure at all—we just wanted to start a conversation. Either way, we'll be cheering you on.
Best regards,
Director Yoon Hye-jin
Starlite Entertainment
I shouldn't have felt anything. But I did. As someone invisible most of the time, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't flattered. The message made me want to push harder, prove myself.
As I stared at the DM, my heart swelled with pride.
"Oh, they're trying to recruit you too?"
I flinched. Seojun stood behind me.
"Yea, did you and the others get one?" I asked. Slightly disappointed but I didn't let it show, I was hoping they only reached out to me because they thought I was special.
He shook his head. "No. Just me—and you."
My mood instantly got better.
"Of course I'm not joining," he said quickly. "HY-PE's a way better company. Plus, the contract's ironclad. We don't really have a choice."
I nodded. "Yeah." Shoving my phone in my pocket, I stood up. "Let's go practice."
Seojun blinked. "Already?"
"If you don't, I'll surpass you. Probably in your best interest to keep up."
Seojun raised a brow, without saying anything further he followed me.
--
I felt the coach shift next to me.
If things don't go as expected…
What if they were right?
I opened my eyes.
It was Sihun Lee. His freshly trimmed bowl cut framed his face neatly—bangs feathered across his forehead, tapering thicker at the sides. His big doe eyes were softened with a touch of brown shadow.
"Hi, hyung," Sihun said timidly.
I gave him a small nod. "Sup. You're looking great."
"Thanks!" He beamed, clearly pleased. "Actually, I was just about to say—you looked like a Greek statue when you were sleeping just now."
"Thanks," I muttered. "You nervous?"
"Nope." He shook his head, confident. "I prepared enough. I know I won't mess up. I'll just keep giving it my all. That's what got me here in the first place. What about you?"
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't."
"You worry too much, Kai."
The deep voice belonged to Byuongho Joon Lee, striding across the room like a runway model. He sank into the couch opposite us, his smoldering makeup making his sharp features even more striking. His cropped hair, styled with a side part, gave him that effortless "it boy" aura. No wonder women went crazy over him.
"You'll do great," he added.
I exhaled hard. "My worries are perfectly valid, Giant B." I made sure to emphasize the nickname.
Sihun snorted.
"Did someone just say Giant B? Are we making fun of Byuongho? Count me in!"
Junho Kim entered, his sleek middle part freshly cut, making him look sharper than ever. Eyeliner accentuated his long eyes, his lips looked plumper, and his skin glowed with that unfair youthful sheen.
"You shouldn't be talking, Kai," Byuongho fired back. "Not like there's much of a height difference between us."
I smirked at Junho. "We were just discussing Byuongho's giant butt. I mean—look at that cake. Yummy, yummy."
Sihun and Junho burst out laughing.
Byuongho's glare could have killed a man. I only grinned wider and winked. "My luscious, cakey Byuongho."
"You're a pervert."
"I don't deny it. Since I admit it, shouldn't you reward me? Let's see them cheeks,"
Junho doubled over, wheezing, while Sihun clutched his stomach from laughter.
Byuongho's glare deepened.
Teasing him is so fun, I suppose I'll stop for now.
"It's been five months already. I wonder how much longer until we debut." I asked, changing the conversation.
"We'll debut when we debut," Byuongho said with a shrug.
Everyone nodded.
I stared at him, dead-eyed. Then clapped, obnoxiously loud.
"Wow! Inspirational. Life-changing. Truly, words to live by."
I slapped a big thumbs-up in his face.
That only made Sihun and Junho laugh harder.
But I didn't let the conversation slip away. I was genuinely frustrated. "I'm serious. I'm tired of all these evaluations. I just want to debut already."
"I'm not getting any younger either," Junho admitted, his smile fading. "We've prepared enough—more than enough. The only way to get better now is by performing in front of an actual audience."
"Right!" I pouted. "I'm getting fed up."
"Me too… me too," Sihun murmured.
Footsteps. Heavy and deliberate.
We froze.
Producer Kim Seok-In entered, followed by Manager Kim Seo-In and the legendary artist Vince.
We shot up and bowed deeply.
"Good morning," Producer Kim said.
"Good morning," we echoed in unison, our voices trembling.
Their stoic faces made my chest tighten. Something was wrong.
Something bad happened. Did I do something? No, I have done nothing to make them react this way. Maybe, the members? No they're too good—Am I being cut?
My stomach dropped. Panic gnawed at me.
Producer Kim clasped his hands. "We have an important announcement."
Silence swallowed the room.
"Rowan Park and the company have agreed to terminate his contract. He will no longer be debuting with you."
My jaw hit the floor. My heart thrashed in my chest. I whipped my head toward the others— shock written on their faces.
Gone. Just like that. Our leader, our ace, the one who carried us—erased overnight.
"Rowan… is gone?" Sihun's voice cracked. His eyes wet.
"Yes," Manager Kim said curtly.
"The evaluation is canceled. For the inconvenience, you'll be given a week off." Vince bowed politely.
And just like that, they turned and left quickly as if they were avoiding the plague.
The room caved in on itself.
Sihun broke first. His sobs ripped through the silence, his big eyes red and glistening. "We were supposed to debut together…"
Junho pulled him close, but he was shaking too.
My throat burned. Rowan was the only one who ever stood by me. The one who looked out for me when everyone else kept their distance. Now he was gone. Just gone.
"Did he tell you anything, Junho?" Byuongho's voice cut sharp, almost accusing.
"No!" Junho snapped. "I swear, I just found out now!"
"Then he kept it from us." Byuongho's tone was like steel. "He must have had thoughts about quitting for a while now."
"So….He quit." I said flatly.
Silence.
"There is no way HY-PE would let go of their superstar trainee."
"I agree" Byuongho's face was fierce. "Our company would have to be real idiots to let go of Rowan. Which means Rowan, was the one who asked to be cut."
I couldn't take it. My chest felt like it would implode.
"I'm gonna nap. All this talk's giving me a headache," I muttered, waving it off as I walked away.
The truth was, I couldn't stand to fall apart in front of them. Anger churned hotter than grief. Rowan. Of all people. After everything—we weren't worth telling?
He's not worthy of being a leader.
…
The room fell colder the moment Kai left.
"This is what I hate about Kai," Byuongho spat. "He never takes anything seriously."
Sihun shoved Junho's arm away, still crying. "I just… I just want to be alone." He bolted.
Somewhere in the next room, stylists shuffled out, clearly giving us space.
Junho wiped his eyes, voice breaking. "Why… Why is this happening now?"
Byuongho's fist shook violently. "That bastard betrayed us!"
"Don't say that," Junho protested weakly. "Maybe it was the company—"
"Don't start, Junho!" Byuongho snapped, eyes blazing. "You definitely knew something. Keeping it from us is betrayal at it's highest. The worst kind."
"I didn't know! He didn't tell me anything—"
"Maybe not word for word," Byuongho cut him off, storming away. "But there was no way you were out of loop. You and Rowan are too close to not keep secrets from each other. I swear! I am so pissed!"
…
Practice after practice. Dance after dance. Song after song.
Seven months.
That's how long it's been since Rowan walked out of our lives.
Seven months of sweat, blisters, aching throats—only to be told we're still "not improving enough." Every time we perform, the producers tore us apart. Every time we think we've done perfect, they find something to rip open.
And every time, it feels less like critique and more like punishment.
When the producers, managers, and assistants finally filed out, silence crushed the practice room.
Junho's voice cracked first. "I don't get it. We worked so hard. Honestly, I thought we killed it. But no matter what we do, it's never enough for them."
"It's been that way since Rowan left," Byuongho muttered.
I stared at the floor, my voice flat. "Feels like they're blaming us for losing him. And now that he's skyrocketing in fame, we're just the leftovers."
Because Rowan didn't just disappear—he thrived. Two months after cutting ties with us, he reappeared under a really good company, SW Entertainment, one of our companies rivals, debuting in a seven-member group called ARCANE. Center. Visual. The face of the group.
And guess what? Seojun Kang—my old rival—debuted right alongside him, as the lead vocalist.
In just five months, Rowan became a household name. Hosting shows. Getting invitations we could only dream of. His face was everywhere.
Meanwhile, we were still here.
Sweating. Waiting. Fading.
"He's living the dream while we're stuck in limbo," Byuongho said bitterly.
Sihun's lip trembled. "I just… I just want to debut already. We're not getting younger. If we lose this chance…" His voice cracked. "Are we ever going to debut?"
"Don't say that!" Byuongho snapped, sharp and fierce. "We will debut. Together."
Byuongho had taken over as leader when Rowan left. He never asked for it, but none of us argued. He wasn't flashy like Rowan, but he was steady. Reliable. Honest enough to admit Rowan outshined him in every way, but stubborn enough to say he'd still give us everything he had.
My stomach twisted, a dull ache gnawing deeper each day. At first I blamed bad food, but… it started two weeks before Rowan left.
And it never went away.
Maybe it isn't my stomach. Maybe it's my gut. A warning.
I let out a dry laugh. "At this rate, we'll never debut."
All three turned on me.
"Kai." Byuongho's eyes were sharp. "I get that you like brushing things off, but right now? That's not helping."
I raised my hands. "Sorry." The laughter died on my lips.
We've been together every day for seven months now. The anger, the betrayal, the suspicion that once divided us—slowly, painfully, it faded. In the beginning, Sihun couldn't even look at Junho, convinced Rowan must've confided in him and left us out of the loop. We all wondered. We all accused Junho.
But Rowan never answered our calls. Never texted back. Junho was left in the dark, just like the rest of us. Eventually, we realized we only had each other.
And somewhere between the endless rehearsals and sleepless nights, the four of us became closer than ever.
Even as the world outside forgot we existed, Rowan's face was everywhere.
I tossed a cold can onto the table.
"Guess what I found at the convenience store?"
The guys looked at me curiously.
"What is it?"
I smiled faintly as the silver-haired, green-eyed face on the can caught the fluorescent light.
"Is this… Rowan?" Sihun whispered.
Rowan's perfect smile gleamed from the label, the kind of effortless beauty that made him look untouchable.
"Wow. He's even on drinks now," Junho said with a half-laugh that didn't reach his eyes.
I glanced at Byuongho. He stayed silent, his jaw tight. Our eyes met—just for a second—before he looked away.
"Well, evaluation's over. Time to go," he muttered, clapping his hands once before walking out.
"Looks like Byuongho still holds a grudge," Sihun said softly.
I raised an eyebrow. "Don't you?"
Sihun hesitated, then nodded.
Junho sighed. "How could we not? Let's go--and you can keep that drink Kai-hyung"