Chapter Text
“Trainees, gather around!”
I looked around the room as nearly twenty girls slowly made their way toward the center of the practice room. Some looked tired, others curious, and a few barely looked up from their tablets.
It was my first day as a trainee at SM Entertainment.
Honestly, I was still shocked I had even passed the audition. I hadn’t prepared anything properly and ended up singing the national anthem because I panicked. Somehow they still accepted me.
Maybe they just liked my face.
“This is our new trainee, Roh Yuna,” the instructor announced. “It’s her first day, so please welcome her and continue setting a good example as SM trainees.”
“Yes, instructor.”
Twenty pairs of eyes landed on me at once.
Intimidating.
But before coming here, I promised my mom I wouldn’t get scared. I told her I’d be brave no matter what happened. So instead of shrinking away, I smiled brightly and looked around at everyone one by one.
“Hi, I’m Roh Yuna. I’m fourteen years old, and I’m from Seoul. Please take care of me.”
A few girls clapped politely. Others nodded before immediately losing interest.
But my eyes kept drifting toward one person.
Long dark hair. Sharp eyes. Thick eyebrows that somehow made her look even prettier. Her face was soft, but her expression wasn’t. She looked cold. Untouchable.
Interesting.
Unlike everyone else, she didn’t even glance at me properly. She sat against the mirror stretching, completely focused on herself like none of this mattered.
For some reason, that only made me want to talk to her more.
Without thinking, I started walking in her direction—
Only to get stopped halfway as several trainees suddenly crowded around me.
“How old are you?”
“Were you street casted?”
“You’re really pretty.”
I laughed awkwardly, trying to answer everyone at once, but in the corner of my eye I saw the girl stand up and walk away like she had never noticed me in the first place.
“Hi!”
I turned toward the cheerful voice beside me.
A girl with soft features and a tiny face smiled brightly at me.
“I’m Ian. I’m new too—yesterday was actually my first day.”
“Really?” I blinked. “I thought you’d been here longer.”
Ian grinned proudly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
—
By dinner break, I finally got the courage to ask about the mysterious girl.
“The one with the eyebrows?” Ian asked immediately.
I tried to sound casual. “Maybe.”
Another trainee sitting nearby laughed.
“That’s Yu Haram. Everyone calls her Yuha.”
“The Yuha?” someone else added dramatically.
Apparently, Yuha had already trained at SM for five years.
Five years.
“She’s the best vocalist among all the trainees,” Ian explained quietly. “Like… insanely good.”
“And her dancing is almost on Juun unnie’s level,” another trainee added. “Which is actually crazy.”
I nodded slowly while pretending not to care. But honestly?
I was even more curious now.
—
Yuha had stopped getting attached to new trainees a long time ago. At first, she used to remember every girl that entered the practice rooms.
Girls who cried after evaluations. Girls who swore they would debut together forever. Girls who practiced until sunrise only to disappear a few months later.
One by one, they either got cut or gave up.
After five years, Yuha learned there was no point getting close to people who would probably leave anyway.
Now the only trainees who had been around as long as her were Jiwoo and Juun. Everyone else came and went. So when another new trainee was introduced that morning, Yuha barely paid attention at first.
Pretty girl. Loud smile. Confident energy.
Nothing new.
But then—
“Hi, I’m Roh Yuna.”
Yuha looked up without meaning to.
It wasn’t just her confidence.
It was her voice.
Low and slightly raspy, rough around the edges in a way that didn’t match her bright expression at all. It sounded warm. Distinctive. The kind of voice that lingered in your head longer than it should.
Most new trainees avoided eye contact because they were nervous.
Yuna didn’t.
Instead, she looked directly at everyone in the room one by one, smiling like she genuinely wanted to know them.
And when her eyes met Yuha’s, she didn’t look away immediately.
That was unusual.
Yuha broke eye contact first.
Still, she could feel Yuna glancing at her every few seconds afterward.
Annoying.
And strangely hard to ignore.
—
Over the next few weeks, Roh Yuna became impossible to avoid.
She was loud in practice rooms, always laughing with Ian. Somehow she still had energy at midnight after hours of dancing and vocal lessons.
She talked to everyone.
The trainers. The stylists. Even the terrifying vocal instructor that made half the trainees cry.
Meanwhile, Yuha preferred silence.
The two of them should’ve clashed immediately.
Instead, Yuna kept appearing beside her constantly like she had made it her personal mission.
“Yuha unnie, your wallpaper is cute.”
“Yuha unnie, are you only eating strawberries again?”
“Yuha unnie, can you help me with this harmony?”
Yuha always answered with the shortest replies possible.
“…Thanks.”
“…Maybe.”
“You’re flat on the second note.”
But somehow Yuna never looked discouraged.
If anything, it only made her smile more.
—
One night, close to midnight, Yuna quietly entered an almost empty practice room holding two vending machine drinks.
Then she froze.
Yuha was alone in front of the mirror replaying the same vocal line over and over again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
For the first time since meeting her, Yuna saw frustration on Yuha’s face.
Not perfection.
Not coldness.
Just exhaustion.
Carefully, Yuna walked over and held out one of the drinks.
Yuha looked up, surprised.
“I didn’t ask for that.”
“I know,” Yuna said, sitting beside her anyway. “But you looked like you were about to fight the speaker.”
For a second, Yuha simply stared at her.
Then suddenly—
A quiet laugh escaped her lips.
Small. Brief. But real.
Yuna’s eyes widened dramatically.
“Oh my god.”
Yuha blinked. “…What?”
“You can laugh.”
Yuha immediately rolled her eyes and stood up, turning away to hide the small smile threatening to appear.
“Go practice your harmonies, Yuna.”
But that night, for the first time in years, Yuha walked back to the dorm thinking about someone else.
And for Yuna—
That tiny laugh felt like winning first place.