Morning Shadows
The sun had barely risen when Jiho's alarm blared through the small dorm room. His body ached from yesterday's training, muscles screaming from the relentless drills. Yet, there was no time to rest—not here, not in this world where seconds could make or break dreams.
He sat up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and stared at the peeling paint on the ceiling. The dorm felt smaller by the day, a cage tightening its grip. Outside, other trainees began to stir, footsteps echoing through the hallway like a drumbeat to an unforgiving rhythm.
Jiho forced himself up, dressed in his worn training clothes, and headed to the cafeteria.
Fractured Bonds
The cafeteria buzzed with low chatter, but Jiho felt isolated amid the crowd.
Seungmin waved from across the room, but Jiho noticed the flicker of unease in his eyes—a question unspoken about the rumors.
Hyunwoo sat at a nearby table, flanked by his clique, smirking as their eyes met.
Jiho swallowed the lump in his throat and picked a spot near the window, away from the brewing storm.
Training's Crushing Weight
Later that morning, in the dance studio, the air was thick with tension.
The choreographer, a sharp-eyed woman named Hyejin, paced as they practiced a complicated routine.
"Faster! Sharper! You are not robots, but this industry demands perfection!" Her voice cut through the room.
Jiho stumbled on a complicated step, his body betraying his mind's focus.
Hyunwoo's gaze flicked to him with something cold, calculating.
"Focus, Jiho," Seungmin whispered, but Jiho could feel the weight of eyes judging, waiting for him to fail.
The First Meeting
That evening, drained and alone, Jiho wandered the darkened corridors of the company.
A soft light glowed beneath a door marked Restricted Access.
Curiosity prickled at him.
Before he could pull away, the door creaked open.
Inside, a man sat surrounded by screens displaying trainee data and security feeds.
Sharp eyes met his.
"You're Jiho," the man said, voice calm but firm.
Jiho nodded, heart pounding.
"I've been watching you," the man continued. "Name's K."
Jiho's throat tightened. "Why?"
K smiled faintly.
"Because you're not what they think you are. And because you'll need someone in the shadows when the lights get too bright."
Secrets Shared
K beckoned Jiho closer and showed him files — recordings of his practices, edited clips, whispers of sabotage.
"This industry eats people alive," K said. "But it also makes legends. I want to help you become one."
Jiho felt a mix of fear and hope.
"Why me?"
"Because you have a voice that can cut through the noise. But it's fragile."
Jiho swallowed hard, feeling the weight of that fragile truth.
The Betrayal Deepens
Back in the dorm, the atmosphere shifted palpably.
Whispers morphed into cold stares, and friends became distant.
One night, Jiho overheard Hyunwoo plotting with others, their words sharp.
"Jiho's soft. He'll never survive the real world."
"We'll make sure he doesn't."
The words hit Jiho like a physical blow.
A Flicker of Resolve
That night, Jiho sat alone on the rooftop, the city lights flickering like distant stars.
His phone buzzed again.
K: "You're stronger than you know. Let them come. I'll be here."
Jiho stared out into the night, heart pounding with a new determination.
He wasn't just fighting for a debut anymore.
He was fighting to keep himself alive.