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Sorry late update. I'm feeling a little generous, so I'm dropping 2 chapters 🤣
Hope you enjoy them đź’™
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The sharp sound echoed through the practice room, snapping everyone's attention back to Llana.
She stood at the front, clapping steadily—once, twice—setting the tempo they were meant to follow.
Clap
"Momo-unnie."
Momo turned on the count, sharp and controlled.
Clap.
"Tzuyu."
Tzuyu turned with her, landing clean.
Clap.
"Chae."
Chaeyoung followed, stopping exactly on beat.
Llana nodded once.
"Momo-unnie, swag. Point your finger with confidence. Don't stare daggers."
Momo adjusted immediately.
"Three. Two. One."
"Walk."
They stepped forward together, slow and deliberate, each step heavy with intent.
"Yes," Llana said. "Like that. Move like you own the stage."
"Form a single line. Tzuyu, center."
The formation shifted smoothly. Llana moved in, stopping in the middle.
They began to circle her.
Each step rolled through the foot, weight pressing down, toes brushing the floor twice before lifting again. The taps blended into the rhythm, precise and effortless, never breaking the flow as they rotated around her.
Llana stayed still at the center, eyes tracking the timing, the spacing, the control.
"Point."
Arms snapped toward her in unison.
"Window."
They split open cleanly, lines sharp as the beat deepened.
Llana lowered her hand.
"Control," she said quietly.
Their movements slowed, tension pulled inward, energy contained rather than released.
Llana watched them for a moment longer.
"…Good."
They had already finished their
choreography. All that was left was polishing the details.
Llana sat down in the corner, taking a sip from her tumbler as her thoughts drifted to the approaching competition.
their team's matchup had been announced. They would be going against the first major team—Nayeon's team.
Nayeon's team was strong. But to Llana, every opponent was. She never let her abilities or her cheat system cloud her judgment or make her arrogant. She never looked down on others.
Knock, knock.
The door opened, and three people walked in—two men and a woman. They were JYP trainers.
"Annyeong~ Are you done practicing?" one of the men asked, addressing Llana and the others.
"Annyeonghaseyo. Ne."
They stood up and answered in unison.
"Hmm." The woman took a seat as two staff members brought chairs forward. "Show us what you've got."
The music ended.
For a moment, no one spoke.
The man seated on the left leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"Alright," he said flatly.
His eyes went straight to Momo.
"Your dancing is clean, but you look like a backup dancer, not someone meant to stand out."
Momo's shoulders stiffened. But said nothing.
His gaze slid to Chaeyoung. "You're technically fine, but I want more bite. More edge." His lips curved slightly. "Are you really a rapper?"
Chaeyoung's jaw tightened. Her eyes
reddened, but she didn't look away.
The man didn't wait for a response. His attention shifted again.
"And you," he said, turning to Tzuyu without hesitation, "your vocals sound untrained. Did you even go through proper lessons? Or are debut standards really this low now, letting someone debut without knowing the basics?"
Tzuyu froze. Her hands clenched at her sides, her confidence cracking under the weight of his words.
Silence spread through the room.
The woman beside him glanced at the other trainer. Neither of them spoke.
Llana felt adrenaline surge through her
veins. Her ears burned, her vision narrowing as she forced herself to stay still.
She wasn't narrow-minded. She could take criticism. She welcomed it when it was sound and fair.
But this?
This wasn't that.
She could hear tone clearly. She knew Tzuyu never went out of pitch. Momo didn't lack presence. Chaeyoung's rapping was controlled and confident. Llana knew exactly where her team stood. She hadn't spent Five days building their confidence just to watch it chipped away by words meant to belittle rather than guide.
This guy was just yapping.
A hand suddenly closed around her wrist.
Another tugged lightly at the hem of her shirt. It was Tzuyu and Chaeyoung. Momo stepped closer too, as if ready to back her up.
Tzuyu tried to steady her breathing as she looked at Llana. Llana's face was calm and unreadable, but after all their time practicing together, Tzuyu knew.
Llana was angry.
Chaeyoung tightened her grip on Llana's shirt, a silent plea. She didn't want Llana doing something reckless, not while cameras were rolling. She didn't want her reputation stained over a man who didn't deserve it.
Finally, the man looked at Llana.
"And you're the leader?" he said. "You don't have a commanding presence."
Llana exhaled slowly and deliberately before easing her wrist free.
She stepped forward.
"If you're going to criticize," she said, "then at least do it correctly. You're not evaluating us. You're intentionally finding faults."
The room stilled.
Her voice wasn't loud. It was soft, almost a whisper.
But instinctively, they felt intimidated.
She met his gaze without blinking.
"My team doesn't need your opinions. What we need is a fair assessment of what was actually performed."
"What about the other two trainers?" Llana asked calmly. "Do you agree with his evaluation?"
No one answered.
Not out of agreement, but out of self-preservation.
The two trainers exchanged a brief, uneasy glance. The woman shifted in her seat, fingers tightening around her pen. She looked like she wanted to speak, but her eyes flicked toward the man beside her.
The cameras were still rolling.
The PD-nim finally exhaled, sharp and controlled, as if he'd been holding it in for too long. He straightened and turned fully toward the judges.
"That's enough."
"This is an evaluation," the PD-nim said firmly. "Not a display of authority, direct or implied."
"If you're going to critique," he continued, "then give feedback that's accurate and constructive. Identify specific technical issues. Don't erode confidence with remarks that don't align with what was performed."
He turned briefly to the trainers.
"You were brought here for your expertise. Use it."
"And I will be documenting how this evaluation was conducted," he added calmly.
His gaze lingered on the man, cold and unmistakably displeased. Power, flaunted carelessly, as if this room were his playground. As if he were untouchable.
"The higher authority will be informed."
After that, the two trainers finally spoke up. They didn't want to be implicated alongside the man, so they gave their honest evaluation of the performance.
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