The next morning, I was at the dance studio at 6:00 AM. My manager, Kim, walked in with a famous choreographer, Mr. Han, who had worked with everyone from EXO to ZB1.
"Carin, Mr. Han has a 'challenge' piece for your next comeback. It's a mix of hip-hop and contemporary. It's... well, it's supposed to take two weeks to learn."
Mr. Han looked at me, skeptical. "I heard you're a quick learner, but this piece has 48 counts of non-stop movement. No breaks."
"Play the music," I said, leaning against the wall.
He played the track and performed the routine. It was a whirlwind of floor work, spins, and sharp isolations. It was beautiful and incredibly difficult.
When the music stopped, Mr. Han was slightly out of breath. "We can start with the first eight counts—"
"I got it," I interrupted.
I walked to the center of the room. I closed my eyes for three seconds, visualizing the way his weight shifted and how his feet hit the floor.
I nodded to the sound technician. The music blasted.
I moved. I didn't just mimic him; I executed it with more power. Every sharp stop, every fluid roll—I did it all perfectly. When the 48th count hit, I ended in a low crouch, looking directly at Mr. Han's reflection in the mirror.
The room was silent. Mr. Han dropped his clipboard.
"You... you didn't even ask for a breakdown," he whispered. "I've never seen anyone do that. Not in twenty years."
I stood up, wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead. "I'm half-American, half-Korean, and 100% not here to waste time. Is the bridge ready? I want to see the rest."
Just then, my phone buzzed on the floor. It was a group chat notification.
[New Group Chat: "The Real Ones" - Wooyoung, Sunoo, Kyungmin, Hao, Carin]
Wooyoung: Yo, Carin. We're grabbing late-night hotpot after practice. You in? Or are you too busy winning every award in the world?
I smirked and typed back: Order the spicy broth. I'm coming.