My stomach is in knots as we walk down the soft carpeted steps, heading toward the stage at the bottom of the auditorium. Not only does today mark the end of the week before we go into full blown sound checks and recordings before the performance next Friday, today also marks Jiho's return to practices, which he's missed ever since his dating scandal blew up all over social media.
Since then I haven't seen a trace of the guy who makes my heart beat like it's running a marathon, my phone uncharacteristically devoid of new messages from "Jeju", messages that used to make me smile myself to sleep.
I'd be lying to myself if I said I didn't miss him. Messaging Jiho had become a habit, a crutch that I had begun to lean on. It's only been a few days but the void created by his absence feels like a growing hole in my chest.
The only way I've been able to distract myself was by pouring every ounce of attention and energy into Dalia and her mysterious circumstances surrounding her death. I've been listening to her solo songs on repeat, as well as those she wrote for her group's comebacks last year.
There are so many hints, it's amazing how I missed every single one of them before Hyeon's discovery.
The solo song about the rich engaged boy falling for a poor damsel in distress who is loved by many. The group song about loving someone who belongs to someone else. The unreleased lyrics I read in her study room that day at the wake about her falling involve with the devil.
If the devil had the face of a movie star and the bank account of a billionaire, the public image of a hero but the scandals of a villain then Park Do Yun was the devil personified. Hyeon had been digging up information about the chaebol heir and flooding my phone with them over the past few days.
The more I read about Park Do Yun, the longer his rap sheet grows. Embezzlement, corruption, extra marital affairs, the list goes on but nothing was ever proven or brought to court. The guy is invisible to the law and remains well loved by most of Seoul.
He married his wife Jung Seo, heiress to an electronics conglomerate at the ripe age of only twenty three. Since then Park Do Yun has been steadily climbing the social ladder and despite being accused of having affairs on multiple occasions, his wife has constantly kept by his side, ever the doting mother and wife.
I wonder what she would have done if she knew her husband was having an affair with Dalia the superstar. Does that make her another suspect?
Binna and I step on to the harshly lit stage, the heat from the lights above like the sun burning down on our heads. It's still early in the morning and most of the stage crew are hurrying about, making final adjustments to the backdrop and cameras.
Someones shouting for the glare above to be adjusted, a person on the microphone goes over sound check and I nearly knock into a young woman pushing a set of cameras on wheels to the other side of the stage.
Binna and I duck and swerve expertly before the dimness of backstage envelopes us like a shadow's hug, the small space strikingly less frantic. The quiet here is a reprieve to my nerves but then I notice that Viva's room is shut, meaning the boys are already inside.
Binna shoots me a look as we head to the other end of the corridor, the sound of girls fussing over each other becoming louder and louder.
Our dressing room is in a mess today. Outfits are taped along the walls, according to our line up but that's the most organised thing in the entire space. The girls are scattered through out, most bent over in odd angles as their stylists force them into their outfits.
Kim's inching towards the refreshment table but her hair is entangled in a comb, held by an annoyed looking stylist.
Hair clips, sashes, shawls and bits of material occupy every inch of the sofa in the middle of the room, some strewn over the floor and dressing tables. I walk up to my spot by the far left, expertly avoiding the heels and shoes that have been chucked haphazardly over the floor like fallen dominoes.
I notice JinJin, Rachel and Grace are the only ones not here yet. Everyone else is almost ready despite us being two hours early on this chilly Friday morning.
My eyes immediately stray to the kettle of steaming hot coffee on the refreshment table but I am quickly dragged to a dressing table and made to sit down by a very eager stylist. I help her with my first outfit, then hair and make up, the time flowing by swiftly like the currents of a river.
Soon it is time for our first performance and the group of us head to the stage. JinJin is standing next to me, her perfume today stronger and sweeter than it usually is. The scent makes me nauseous.
The Viva boy's door remains shut throughout, I don't see any of them during our performance but Mr Yang is front and centre today, his eyes watching my every move like a hawk. It makes me nervous, self conscious and the disappointment on his face is so apparent, I can't be imagining it.
JinJin's duet is right after and the sound of her voice along with Chan's is the only indication that the boys have been here all morning. My performance is up next and my lips are dry by the time I leave our dressing room.
I pause when I see Jiho step out of his, just a few steps ahead of me. Half of his face is engulfed in shadows but the sight of him hits me like a punch in the gut. I feel the longing, the regret, the pain all at once, my throat so tight it feels like I'm about to choke.
I don't want him to turn, to spot me standing behind him but he does, his body stiffening when he sees me. I wait for him to leave but he remains rooted in place. My boots shift from side to side, apprehensive and impatient.
Please walk away. Please.
Announcements are being made and soon we're supposed to be stepping onto the small platform that will rise up onto the stage from below. I force myself to walk first, since Jiho seems to have frozen still.
My lips quiver as the space between us closes till we are side by side. My hands itch, the urge to reach out for him so strong it feels like a magnet is pulling me towards him.
Jiho turns towards me, the pain in his eyes like two inky pools filled with longing. He blinks like he is looking at me for the first time in years and it honestly feels like we have been apart for that long.
I walk away before my tears threaten to slip free and swallow down all the sadness seeing him has caused. I take a deep breath and focus on the stage ahead, the jagged shards of light flitting through heavy curtains separating the stage from the dressing rooms behind.
"I'm sorry." Jiho's voice is a soft caress but it feels like a someone has punctured my heart with a needle.
The wound is small but deep and lingering.
I nod solemnly. I'm sorry too, most probably for the same things as he is. Sorry for how badly things went. Sorry for what could have been.
JinJin and Chan step past the curtains, momentarily flooding the corridor with light and I quickly walk away. Rachel joins me on the dais and then Silver and Jiho before our platform is lifted slowly onto the stage.
For the first time that day, none of the executives pay attention to me during our quartet performance. Even Mr Yang mostly stares at Jiho, his glances over the rest of us fleeting and disinterested.
Jiho's voice fills the auditorium beautifully, not a note or harmony out of sync. His professionalism is almost envious, he outperforms all of us despite missing rehearsals for the past few days.
Once we are done, Mr Yang nods subtly, the only indication that we did not completely suck. I rush to the back, eager to get changed but Rachel elbows me painfully in the ribs, knocking me into the wall as she rushes by.
I wince and curse under my breath. She's glaring at me when I walk into our dressing room and I head straight for her.
"What was that for?" I ask, even though it's a pretty pointless question since she's hated me from the beginning.
She puts her hand on her hips and her eyebrows narrow. "What are you talking about?"
I roll my eyes and walk away. I should have known she was going to deny it.
"You missed two harmonies during the last chorus. We're going to butcher our performance all because of you," She says loudly from behind me and the room falls silent, everyone waiting for my response.
I turn around slowly, meeting her heated gaze. "I sang every line accordingly."
Rachel's face only turns red, like she's about to explode in anger. "I'm not talking about the verse. I'm talking about your lack of harmonising. You're not a solo singer here, we're singing in a group!"
Her voice raises a pitch and she looks so angry, I half expect her to pick up her shoe and hurl it at my head.
I consider her words, as far as I was concerned I did everything by the book.
Rachel only rolls her eyes when she notes the blank look on my face. "It's like everyones been saying. You will never be a star and you have never been a good singer. Singing is not only about memorising notes and copying someone. When a segment is empty, you fill it with a harmony. It's not something that can be taught. All you've ever known is copy paste, you're only popular because of Dalia. If it weren't for her would you even be here?"
Her words sting and the room is so silent, it's like everyone is holding their breath.
"I did my best." Is all I say before turning around and heading straight for the pot of coffee. My body is trembling and I bunch my hands by my sides, trying to keep it together.
She really made it seem like I screwed up on stage. I think back to my lines, I don't remember making any mistakes but then I wonder what she meant by 'everyones been saying'? Who has been saying what?
I catch Binna eyeing me worriedly but she's busy getting ready and I have to change into my next outfit as well. But once we are done for the day I find myself rushing to stop Mr Oh while he's leaving the hall.
"Mr Oh, I need to speak with you privately."
My manager does a double take when he sees me standing behind him. "Jina, umm yes sure."
He scratches his head in confusion but leads me to the set of lifts. We walk into his office and I speak before he can ask me to explain.
"Mr Oh, what did you mean about me not needing to worry when us girls were shortlisted for this showcase?"
He frowns and I see the wheels turning behind his eyes. "Ahh, it's nothing. I expected you to be selected, that's all."
"Is it because of Dalia. Was I shortlisted because of our association?"
Mr Oh leans against the window sill, carefully avoiding his potted row of cactuses. "Does it even matter?"
My heart sinks, that wasn't the answer I was hoping for. "How did you find my performance? Do you believe I deserve to be here?"
He laughs nervously. "I don't know why you're asking me. I'm just the manager."
I run a hand through my hair in frustration wondering what I'm trying to prove here. "I'm sorry for asking. I'll head out now."
I turn around and take hold of the door knob but then Mr Oh clears his throat, making me pause.
"If it helps, I heard Mr Yang and the executives discuss your lack of stage presence. I don't want to sound presumptuous but I really think you need to buck up, Jina. The other girls may claim your popularity gives you an advantage but I think it only means you need to work harder than the rest to prove your worth. I know Mr Yang, if you don't stand out you'll be kicked out. It doesn't matter who you are, he'll use you for the exposure then discard you like it's nothing."
My fingers tighten around the smooth metal knob, so cold against my skin. So Rachel was right, I have been under performing and I might not make the line up.
I swallow hard and nod to Mr Oh in thanks before leaving his office.