---
The hallways of the training center were too bright.
Too clean. Too polished. Too perfect—like the judges' expressions. Like the cameras. Like the smiles everyone wore after evaluations, regardless of the results. Han Mirae walked among them, head down, still tasting the aftershock of her sentence.
Solo.
Against Yoo Sera.
It didn't feel real. And yet it was written on the schedule, handed to her by the coordinator: Solo Evaluation – Han Mirae vs. Yoo Sera – 72 hours prep.
Her name was bold.
Her opponent's name, underlined in red.
A challenge.
A warning.
A death sentence.
Mirae made it back to her dorm in a daze. Team C had tried to act normal when she returned late last night—Minchae offered snacks, Do-yoon asked about her day, Sumin even tried to help with her foot. But their words felt like layers of gauze over a wound that refused to close.
And Jiwon… He hadn't said much.
Just that look in his eyes.
Something torn between guilt and belief.
Now, as she closed the dorm bathroom door behind her, Mirae stared at her reflection in the mirror. Pale. Hollow-eyed. A faint bruise under her left eye from lack of sleep. Her lips were chapped, her hair sticking out beneath her cap.
Fake a smile, she told herself.
You're still here.
She bared her teeth in the mirror.
It didn't reach her eyes.
---
Later – Practice Room 3C
She arrived early, but Sera was already there—leaning against the mirrored wall, her makeup flawless, her outfit expensive-looking and undeniably bold: tight crimson crop top, black cargo pants, eyeliner sharp enough to cut glass.
"Morning, loser," Sera said sweetly, sipping an iced coffee.
Mirae ignored her, limping to the opposite side of the room and plugging in her earbuds. The beat she'd chosen for her solo echoed in her ears—a dark, urgent rhythm, nothing soft or pretty. This wasn't a song to impress. This was survival music.
"You sure you can pull that off?" Sera's voice broke through, taunting. "With that limp? And those barely-there vocals?"
Mirae didn't look at her. "Don't you have your own song to butcher?"
Sera let out a mocking laugh. "Touchy today."
The dance instructor walked in before Mirae could reply. He didn't greet them. He simply clapped twice.
"Three days. One chance. No re-dos. Show me your solo concepts—now."
Sera stepped forward first, all smiles and attitude. Her routine was sharp, sexy, and calculated. Every movement screamed idol material. She ended with a hair flip and winked at the mirror.
Mirae clapped politely, teeth clenched.
Then it was her turn.
Her body was still sore, ankle aching, but she took her position and breathed in deep.
When the music dropped, Mirae moved like someone on the edge—every motion precise but raw, the emotion in her eyes heavy enough to crush glass. Her choreography wasn't flashy. It wasn't sexy. It was survival. Rage. Desperation.
When she finished, the instructor said nothing for a long time.
Then: "This won't be enough to beat her. Work harder."
She nodded, swallowing the sting.
Sera gave her a slow clap as she passed. "Cute. I almost felt bad for you."
---
That Night – Team C Dorm
Team C had gathered around their small tablet, watching replays from other teams. Most had strong showings. Group B's main vocal was trending on social media. Team A had been featured in the program trailer.
Meanwhile, Mirae's name had one comment thread:
> "Why is she still here?" "Probation girl is just filler until she's cut." "She's trying too hard. It's embarrassing."
Do-yoon shut the screen. "They're wrong."
"They're not wrong," Mirae said quietly from the doorway.
Everyone turned.
Mirae's cheeks were red from the cold outside, sweat still clinging to her forehead. "But I'm still going to prove them wrong."
She walked to her bed, flopped down without ceremony, and pulled out a folder of notes she'd handwritten—lyrics, timing marks, notes from instructors.
Sumin sat down next to her. "You're not alone."
"I am, in this round."
"Not in this dorm."
For a moment, Mirae just stared at her lap. Then she smiled.
Not fake.
Not full.
But real.
---
Day 2 – Studio B
Sera's laugh echoed down the hallway as Mirae entered. "You're still doing that angsty song?"
Mirae didn't answer.
Today, she was recording vocals.
The producer leaned over the soundboard. "You've improved. Still breathy on the bridge, but the emotion's hitting."
Mirae nodded. "Can I go again?"
He blinked. "You don't need to."
"Please."
She sang again.
And again.
And again—until her throat cracked and she had to step out and vomit in the bathroom sink.
Sera walked in behind her, frowning. "Are you seriously killing yourself over this?"
Mirae wiped her mouth. "Yes."
Sera stared at her in the mirror. "I thought you'd break after the first cut. But you're like a cockroach."
"Thanks."
Sera laughed despite herself. "Still gonna lose."
"Maybe. But you'll remember me."
That shut her up.
---
Night – Rooftop
Mirae couldn't sleep. The ache in her legs pulsed like a heartbeat. She climbed up to the rooftop, breath fogging in the night air.
To her surprise, Jiwon was already there, sitting on the edge, watching the lights of the city.
He looked up. "Can't sleep?"
She shook her head and sat beside him.
"I saw the rehearsal clip," he said.
"Oh no," she groaned.
"It was good."
"Liar."
He smiled a little. "Not perfect. But you weren't trying to be perfect. You were trying to be real. That's why it stuck."
Mirae's throat tightened.
"You know…" he hesitated, "I was scared you'd disappear after that ranking. I kept thinking: if she's gone, what's the point?"
She blinked. "You…?"
"We're a team, Mirae. No matter what the judges say. You fighting like this—reminds me why I'm still here."
For a moment, silence hung between them.
Then she whispered, "I'm afraid."
"You should be." He looked at her. "But do it anyway."
---
Final Day – Rehearsal Room
The final run-through was brutal.
The producer had brought a camera crew for preview footage.
Sera nailed her routine in one go, dazzling and smooth.
Mirae tripped on her landing, and the cameraman winced.
"Cut," the PD said. "We'll use Sera's footage for the preview."
Mirae didn't argue.
But that night, alone, she replayed the footage again and again, adjusting each step in her mind until her body burned with muscle memory.
---
Performance Day – Stage B, 4:55 p.m.
The solo evaluation room was quieter than the others. Just the judges. One camera. No audience.
Sera went first. She sparkled—flirted with the camera, hit every note. It was textbook perfect.
Applause.
Then Mirae.
She stepped into the center of the room, wearing simple black, her hair tied back. No glamour. Just her.
The beat began.
She danced.
She sang.
She stumbled slightly—but caught herself and turned it into a raw spin that hit the emotion harder than if it had gone smoothly.
Her voice cracked on the high note—but her eyes shimmered with fire.
By the final chorus, even the coldest judge leaned forward.
She ended not with a pose, but simply standing tall, chest heaving.
No smile.
No performance.
Just Mirae.
Real.
---
After
She sat alone again, waiting.
Sera was called back in first.
They spoke briefly. She came out smirking.
"You gave them tears. I gave them fire," she whispered.
Then the coordinator called:
"Han Mirae."
She stood, heart in her throat.
Inside the judging room, the lead judge folded his hands.
"You surprised us again."
She didn't respond.
Another judge said, "There were technical issues. But your storytelling was undeniable."
The lead judge finally said: "This was not a victory by skill. But it was a victory of spirit. Against our recommendation… you will be reinstated."
Mirae's breath caught.
"You are no longer on probation. You are back in Team C. As the Wild Card."
Mirae nodded once, hard, barely trusting her voice.
"Thank you."
She turned to leave—
"Wait," the judge added. "But understand this. You are on borrowed time. If you fail again, there will be no comeback. No pity. Only elimination."
The weight returned—but this time, she carried it with both hands.
---
Back in the Dorm
As she stepped inside, the room exploded.
Minchae screamed. Do-yoon tackled her with a hug. Sumin wiped her eyes. Even Sunwoo clapped, grinning.
And Jiwon?
He simply looked at her like she'd come home.
"Welcome back," he said softly.
Mirae smiled, eyes glistening.
But before the joy could settle, a notification pinged.
All trainees' devices buzzed.
The screen read:
> "Next Evaluation: THE FINAL CUT."
"Only the TOP 10 will remain."
"The rest will be ELIMINATED."