A Personality Problem
"Great work, everyone. Both teams, please move off the stage."
With the MC's cue, the stage lights went dark.
As Yoo Sia stepped down, she stared silently at Han Jiyoung's retreating back ahead of her.
The studio settled into another ten-minute reset. While the staff bustled about rearranging the set for the next performance, the judges took a moment to catch their breath in their seats, gulping water and falling into conversation.
"Aigoo, deathmatches really are brutal. Watching kids drop one after another right in front of you leaves a bad taste in your mouth."
Kang Soyoung moistened her throat and spoke with a bitter edge. Her gaze lingered on Yoo Sia's back as the girl walked away, gently consoling her tearful teammates.
"That was Contestant Yoo Sia, right? Such a shame about that one. Solid vocal balance, polished stage manners—she was already complete. Her opponent was just a monster."
Park Jinwoo tapped a stack of papers into order as he chimed in. Normally free with his cutting remarks, he still seemed to feel a flicker of regret when genuine talent fell victim to the system.
"Exactly. Group G brought such a destructive stage that it overshadowed everything, but Group B's level would've made them automatic favorites in any other audition. All you can really say is they had rotten luck."
Terry Oh slipped off his orange-tinted sunglasses and set them on the table with a tongue click of disappointment. He glanced sideways at Kim Taesung, who was quietly scanning documents beside him.
"What about you, CEO? A rival agency's trainee just got eliminated—feeling a little smug on the inside?"
At Terry Oh's half-joking prod, Kim Taesung lifted his head with mild indifference.
"I'm not the type to let every single audition result yank my mood up and down. It's just business as usual."
"Funny you say that, because your mouth corners have been twitching for a while now. You look like you're in an excellent mood."
When Terry Oh pressed sharply, Kim Taesung paused with his pen, then let out a short, dry snort of laughter.
"It feels good to be acknowledged as a musician."
"Huh? What do you mean all of a sudden…?"
Terry Oh tilted his head and asked again. But Kim Taesung smoothly changed the subject.
"Still, the production team is planning a wild-card round, so the eliminated contestants will get another shot, won't they? MNA isn't going to just throw away a high-profile talent like Yoo Sia."
"Ah, true enough. She's definitely worth saving. They have to bring her back through the wild-card, at least."
Kang Soyoung nodded in relief and took another swig of water.
"All right, time to get ready. Next teams are coming in."
At the staff's signal, the judges' microphones clicked back on.
I dropped onto the waiting-room sofa like a sack of bricks. The second the tension left my body, every muscle that had been wound tight started screaming—especially my legs.
...Ugh. I'm dying.
Dancing on stage had been a first for this life—heck, even counting my previous one. I could barely remember how I'd finished the song or whether I'd made any mistakes.
In contrast, Naeun bouncing beside me looked ready to punch a hole in the sky with her energy.
"Unnie! That was insane! You absolutely crushed it! Our stage was fire, right? Oppa Doyun's rap earlier had crazy vibes too! Amazing!"
Naeun thrust a thumbs-up right in my face, pumping the atmosphere higher. Beside her, Han Doyun wiped sweat from his brow and sank heavily into a seat.
"Me? I just rode the bus, basically. You two built the entire stage. I feel like I barely spooned myself onto the plate—already nervous about the next round."
"Come on, Oppa! Without that heavy voice of yours, this song never would've been complete."
Naeun answered with easy cheek, then lowered her voice and leaned in.
"But honestly? My heart was racing the whole time. Group B was really good too. Especially Yoo Sia! Her personality's a bit much, but you have to respect her skill. When she hit those high notes earlier, I got chills."
I nodded silently at Naeun's words.
"Yeah. She was definitely good. Personality's the only real downside."
I remembered the look she'd shot me the moment her loss was sealed—so piercing it sent a chill down my spine. She probably thought I'd stolen her meal ticket. But this was a survival competition. Background, sob stories—none of it mattered. Fail to prove yourself on stage and you get weeded out. That was the nature of this industry.
Still, tucked in a corner of that confidence, a thorn of conscience kept pricking me.
Tch. Though I did put my hands on it a little...
I hadn't used Kim Taesung's arrangement sources as-is. I'd adjusted the pitch to fit my voice, reworked the instrumentation, and refined the overall concept myself. More than anything, I'd accepted it because it aligned with my musical philosophy.
And Kim Taesung's comments during the critiques—the way he'd subtly covered for me—kept nagging at me too. The man had dropped me once; why the sudden change of attitude now? His true intentions were impossible to read.
Just then—
Knock-knock.
A measured knock cut through the waiting-room noise like a knife.
"Mind if I come in?"
A voice I was far from glad to hear. Yoo Sia.
The lively waiting room plunged into instant silence. Naeun swallowed dryly and glanced at me; Han Doyun awkwardly averted his eyes. Instead of answering, I rose and walked to the door.
I opened it. Yoo Sia stood there.
"What?"
I leaned against the doorframe as I spoke. My gaze naturally dropped. Yoo Sia was around 170 cm—quite tall for a woman—but with my stage heels on, she still had to tip her chin up slightly to meet my eyes.
My lowered gaze and her lifted one collided sharply in midair.
"You. That whole 'I took five years off' story is a lie, right?"
Her opening salvo made one of my eyebrows twitch upward.
"I did take time off."
"Off my ass! That look in your eyes! The way you popped your hips...! That kind of seasoning doesn't come from a day or two of practice! You were buried somewhere grinding like a maniac for years at least, weren't you? How else does a person change that much on stage?"
I stared blankly down at Yoo Sia. What on earth was this girl talking about? The murderous glare she'd leveled at me from the waiting seats earlier had vanished; in its place was something closer to obsession.
"I really did take time off. Dropped music for five years and just played games. Oh, for the record—I'm Master tier in LeoRi."
"Le-LeoRi? What's that supposed to be? Some new training method? Or the name of some overseas professor?"
The dead-serious way she asked almost made me laugh.
"It's just a thing. More importantly—what do you want, Yoo Sia? Mad you lost? Here to file a formal protest?"
At my question she hesitated, then bit down hard on her lip.
"Mad? Of course I am. There's no way my practice volume was less than yours. But..."
She paused, as if choosing her words carefully.
"Watching you on stage earlier, I had no choice but to admit it. You're just... on a different level. You're good."
A giant question mark floated up in my head.
What? Is she on something?
The venomous girl I'd written off as having a completely shattered personality suddenly tossing out praise left me dizzy. I'd been ready to trade barbs if she unloaded insults; this approach just made me awkward instead.
After a brief moment of uncertainty about how to respond, I settled on the eye-for-an-eye, praise-for-praise strategy.
"Well... you were good too. But about you—"
I pushed off the doorframe and locked eyes with her straight on. My producer's instincts stirred.
"During the chorus earlier—you were closing off your nasal cavity too much when you produced the sound. You get power in the high notes, but the tone stays too linear and the emotion gets buried. Try shifting the resonance point just a little farther back. You'll get a much more three-dimensional sound than what you're doing now."
"...What?"
Yoo Sia looked utterly blank, as if her words had short-circuited. I'd just pinpointed, in a single listen, the microscopic habits her trainers had been nagging her about for five straight years.
"You—what even are you? How did you know that? Did you really just take time off? How does analysis like that come out the second you hear someone?"
Yoo Sia stammered in flustered disbelief. Instead of answering, I raised my index finger and pointed at her chest.
"And the decisive thing."
"...?"
"You have a personality problem. You know that?"
"...Wh-what, out of nowhere?!"
Leaving the flustered Yoo Sia exactly as she was, I smiled faintly and started to close the waiting-room door.
"Anyway, good work. Take care on your way out."
Her squawking voice filtered through from the other side, but I ignored it lightly and shut the door.
Click.
Inside the waiting room, Naeun and Doyun were staring at me with completely vacant expressions.
"...Unnie, did you seriously just tell Yoo Sia unnie she has a personality problem?"
Naeun asked with a face that could have been terror or admiration—I couldn't tell which.
"Yeah. She does."
I flopped back onto the sofa and stretched.
The moment Yoo Sia returned to the Aura Entertainment building, she was summoned straight to the CEO's office. CEO Park of the agency fiddled with a stack of papers and let out a long sigh.
"Sia, this result was really unfortunate. Of all teams, it had to be Han Jiyoung's—let's just call it bad luck."
Yoo Sia said nothing, staring holes into the floor.
"Still, I heard the production side is preparing a wild-card round. This isn't the end, so pull yourself together and get ready again."
Even with CEO Park's encouraging words, Yoo Sia's mind was completely occupied by Han Jiyoung's pointed finger.
You have a personality problem. You know that?
The same "tone down that attitude" lecture she'd heard countless times during five years as a trainee.
"CEO."
Still lost in thought, Yoo Sia spoke quietly.
"Hm? What is it? Need something?"
Yoo Sia lifted her head and looked CEO Park dead in the eye.
"Do I... have a personality problem?"
"...Huh?"
CEO Park rolled his eyes in panic and cleared his throat.
"Uh... a little? No—honestly speaking, a lot? Wait, don't tell me you caused another scene on set just now? Did you mouth off to a PD again?"
At the CEO's frank—no, far too immediate—affirmation, Yoo Sia's expression twisted oddly. She sank back into thought for a moment, then answered flatly.
"Yes. I think I caused a scene. With Han Jiyoung... I think I told her not to pretend."
"What?! Yoo Sia!"
CEO Park shot up from his chair in horror. The image of the fallout from spitting venom at Han Jiyoung—currently an untouchable sacred cow in South Korea—flashed vividly before his eyes.
But Yoo Sia paid the CEO's flailing no mind and muttered to herself.
"I really did have a personality problem. I need to fix it."
She wasn't bluffing.
...She was cool.
She had been thoroughly crushed by Han Jiyoung, yet somehow it didn't feel bad. She wanted to be acknowledged by her.
No—mere acknowledgment wasn't enough.
She would fix the flaws that girl had pointed out, stand at her side, and hear the words she now wanted to hear.
You have a good personality.
Yoo Sia's lips curved upward.