"Sera! Wait for me!"
The voice is too real.
Like,
"I-can-hear-the-breath-in-her-
throat.
I turn, and there's
Hana - Queenz leader. Gorgeous, poised... probably smells like soft florals and generational wealth.
"Sera, let's go together."
...Go together where? The psych ward? The afterlife? A Netflix documentary about "The Girl Who Lost Her Damn Mind"?
We're walking backstage. My boots clack against the floor.
And that's the problem.
Boots don't clack in dreams.
You don't feel the cold air in dreams.
You don't hear the faint buzzing of the stage lights in dreams.
No. This is too real.
And that's terrifying.
Dreams aren't this detailed. Dreams are fuzzy. And I am not fuzzy right now - I am in 8K Ultra HD IMAX 3D with surround sound.
My brain tries to process.
Okay Serena, calm down. You're in Korea. You went to Ryu's concert. You fangirled so hard you almost dislocated a rib. You ate tteokbokki like it was your last supper. Got tipsy. Then... Boom. Car. Game over. And now... THIS?
I glance at my reflection in a mirror.
That's not me. That's someone who owns four skincare fridges and says "vintage" instead of "second-hand."
Who somehow got the same face as mine but Someone richer, prettier, skinnier. Definitely not me.
And that's when the panic fully hits.
I stop dead in my tracks. Hana blinks at me like I'm about to do something stupid.
(Spoiler: I am.)
I stare at the wall.
The innocent, harmless, perfectly hittable wall.
If I smash my head hard enough, I'll wake up.
Right?
The wall looks like it's a glowing "EXIT" sign.
If I hit my head hard enough, my real body - the one in the hospital bed or wherever - will wake up. That's how it works, right? It has too
BANG.
"Ow." Still here.
BANG.
Hana gasps.
"Sera! What the hell are you doing?!"she shouts.
Trying not to live out someone else's Netflix drama, that's what.
"Sera, stop!" Hana's running toward me now.
I yell, "Let's go back!" even though I have no clue where "back" is.
"Sera! Nooo-"
Too late. One final hit.
BANG.
"Wake the hell up, Serena," I growl through my teeth like a possessed Disney villain.
Something warm trickles down my forehead.
Oh. Blood. That's new.
My knees buckle. The world tilts. My ears start ringing like an alarm clock.
Okay... maybe I overdid it.
Oopsss.....
My last thought before collapsing?
Well... either I wake up now, or I've just died in two different realities. That's talent.
I sway like a tragic lead in a historical K‑drama and whisper my final masterpiece:
"I'm dead again... tell Ryu he's mine."
And then I collapse like a wilted rose.
Darkness.
Complete, suffocating darkness.
Just me, the void, and the distant sound of my dignity screaming.
When my eyes open, I'm in a lavish pink room big enough to eat my old apartment for breakfast. I'm wrapped in silk blankets like some tragic K‑drama heroine.
Where the hell am I?
Suddenly, rapid-fire questions:
"Sera, are you okay?"
"What happened to you?"
"Can you see me?"
"Do you remember me?"
Four perfect faces. Hair flawless. Makeup on point. Literally glowing.
Okay, seriously - who blends eyeshadow like that?
Oh wait. They are a girl group. Queenz.
And apparently... I'm one of them.
My brain:
Nope. Wrong casting. Send me back to the fangirl section where I belong.
They keep talking. My brain? Still spinning the wheel of confusion.
What should I do. What should I say.
Got an idea:
Kdrama lesson 101 let's play a character who just lost her memories cause I have no damn clue how to be a K‑pop idol.
Guess I'm playing the "Amnesia Main Character" card today.
Inside my head?
Yep. Definitely a fever dream. These women look like they were designed in a beauty lab.
I blink at them, then drop the bomb:
"Who... are you?"
The room gasps so hard I think oxygen levels drop.
Hana's eyes widen.
"You... don't know us?"
Mina smirks.
"Don't panic, guys. She's trolling us."
Jezy actually tears up.
"Unnie! How can you forget me?"
Then Dani - dripping in enough diamonds to fund my next ten lives - leans over and says:
"Hey Sera, you owe me $1,000. Pay me first."
I stare at her. I've been alive (again) for three minutes and this girl's already trying to rob me.
"Girl, I don't even have five dollars to my name and just woke up from dying twice."
They all exchange looks. Concern. Suspicion. Drama.
I keep my face blank like a K‑drama lead with a tragic past.
Inside my head?
Okay Serena... you're in too deep. Play the role until you figure out how to escape this fever dream. Don't mess it up.
I just lie there, blinking, wondering if my Ryu is breathing the same Seoul air as me.
And deep inside, one very dangerous thought whispers...
If fate rewrote my story, it forgot one rule - Ryu belongs in every chapter.
That's when the door BURSTS open.
"SERAAAAAAAAAA!"
The Queenz manager storms in like they're about to sue death itself.
Manager bursts in like I just committed tax fraud.
"Girl! Are you okay?! Do you need a doctor? Do you need oxygen? Therapy
Before I can even blink, I'm being dragged to the hospital like the tragic heroine of a very cheap drama.
Apparently, "smashing my head into a wall to wake up from this nightmare" is concerning.
Who knew
Doctor starts her little interrogation.
Name? Beyoncé.
Year? 2016
President? BTS, duh.
Manager is blinking like he just watched his retirement plan go up in flames.
Doctor diagnoses "mild amnesia" and Manager gasps like doctor just told him I'm pregnant.
Manager grips my shoulder all sentimental like he's the father in a tragic drama.
I give him my best mysterious-smirk-meets-Disney-
villain face.
If this were a movie, this is where the camera would zoom in and
I'd whisper: "I'll remember... when the ratings need it."
We leave.
Manager's holding my shoulder like I'm seconds from collapsing.
I smile - slow, dangerous, Oscar‑worthy.
Manager pulls me aside after the hospital like he's revealing state secrets.
The media can't know.
I have to hide the "memory loss."
You have Still work and rehearse.
Still live like I'm not missing half my brain... which, plot twist, I'm not.
I just rent it out to chaos.
I nod like a spy accepting a top‑secret mission.
Inside I'm thinking: Sweetie, I've been faking this for 2 hours now. Where is my Oscar.
Then the next morning
I wake up to Hana throwing the curtains open like she's auditioning for a Disney villain role.
Sunlight floods in, blinding me instantly.
My soul leaves my body.
"Do you mind?! My eyeballs weren't ready for this betrayal."
Her: "Rehearsal. Now."
Me: "Rehearsal for what? The Olympics?"
Her: "Our comeback."
Me: "Cool. Can my memory come back first?"
But she me ignored like a YouTube Ad.
Ten minutes later:
I'm in the van between Mina and Jezy, smelling like anxiety and hairspray.
Jezy: "You're acting weird."
Me: "Weird? Nah. I'm just trying to remember how to exist
Practice starts.
The girls? Flawless.
Me? A Wi‑Fi signal dropping every three seconds.
Kick? Hit Dani.
Spin? Wrong way and slapped Mina.
Arm wave? Nearly smacked Jezy into another dimension.
Dani: "One more accident and I'm suing."
Me: "Do it. I'll forget about it by tomorrow."
Choreographer: "Did you forget the routine?"
Me: "Not forget... just permanently misplaced it in my brain's recycling bin."
But somehow I managed to learn the new dance steps. This body is literally A dance machine.
Manager storms in:
"Performance TOMORROW! Sera, you're opening with a solo. And a surprise celebrity joins you."
Me:
"Perfect. I'll just collapse dramatically mid-stage for ratings."
To be Continued.....