The First Mission (1)
She started to greet me on reflex, then stopped short — and in the next instant her whole face lit up.
"Wait, what? We're in the same room? That's insane!"
Whether she was genuinely thrilled or playing to the cameras, I couldn't tell, but she bounced in place like her feet had springs. A flutter of orange hair. Han Yu-ri.
A bright personality. A cute face. And now, at least to me, a presence I could no longer overlook.
So Han Yu-ri was the same rank as me.
I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been hoping to room with Yu Na-bin. But Han Yu-ri wasn't a bad draw either. Her type was one of the best roommates you could land on an audition show — sunny, great at lifting a room, and more than anything, the kind of person cameras loved.
To survive here, skill mattered. Screen time mattered more. And someone like Han Yu-ri had a way of pulling the people around her into the spotlight too.
Just please don't go so overboard they cut you out of the edit entirely.
As long as she didn't come off fake enough to get scrapped, I was guaranteed to benefit. She was the type to chatter endlessly about whoever she lived with, and those glowing reviews would make it to air. And that wouldn't be all. Every time my stage or evaluation wrapped, her interview would follow right after.
That works out for Han Yu-ri, too.
A trainee who likes the trainee you're already rooting for? Instant goodwill. Fans always want those two put together. For all I knew, Han Yu-ri already understood that and was using me.
If that's actually the case, she's a little scary.
Was she the type who kept a fox hidden under that cute, bubbly exterior? Then again, she couldn't have been that shrewd — in my last life, she hadn't even registered on my radar. Either way, it wasn't a bad deal for me.
And with five to a room, three roommate spots were still open.
Please let it be Yu Na-bin.
I was scanning the room, silently praying, when Han Yu-ri suddenly flung the closet doors wide.
"Did you see this?"
My eyes went to the inside of the closet. T-shirts hung in neat rows, each one a different color, a huge letter stamped across the back. I knew exactly what they meant.
Rank-coded practice wear. A system that let you tell someone's rank at a glance by color — for television, the perfect device. A structure that laid bare who stood where. And A-Class, especially, came in a color that made you impossible to miss.
So this is what we'll be wearing to practice from now on...
It hit me then. I was really inside this system. The real competition started now.
That was when another trainee stepped into the dorm. I turned toward the sound on instinct — and my heart got there first.
"Hi! Hello!"
Even her voice was bright.
...Yu Na-bin? I'm actually rooming with Yu Na-bin?
I'd hoped for it. I'd even thought the odds were decent. But now that it was real, it somehow felt less real. Long, clean lines of arms and legs. A small face. Not a scrap of makeup on her, and her features were still razor-sharp. Just a white T-shirt and sweatpants, and she already looked like the protagonist.
I'm losing it...
That celebrity aura. I'd felt it during the level test, but up close it was even more undeniable.
Am I even allowed to be this happy?
Han Yu-ri beat me to speaking.
"Whoa! Another pretty one! Minus me, this is basically a princess room. Am I even allowed to be in here?"
Yu Na-bin heard that and beamed, her whole face sparkling.
I'm losing it. That smile is actually sunshine.
I wanted to make her smile more. Just watching her laugh made me feel better. The smile was contagious.
Ah. I'm going to dry my gums out.
Then Han Yu-ri held out a hand to Yu Na-bin.
"I'm Han Yu-ri."
"I'm Yu Na-bin! Nice to meet you!"
Her tone was incredibly lively — the type that made people feel good just by existing. The idea that this Na-bin could be a bullying ringleader was absurd. The Na-bin of this time was far more vibrant and socially gifted than I'd expected. This was not a personality manufactured for the cameras. At least, not as far as I could tell. Nothing about her felt fake.
"Oh, I haven't said my age yet, have I? I'm sixteen!"
"Whoa, you're a year younger than me! I'm seventeen!"
Han Yu-ri naturally turned her head toward me.
"Seo-yeon's seventeen too, right?"
"...Yeah."
"I heard it during the self-introductions. Your hobby is watching YouTube, right? What channels do you watch?"
Yu Na-bin looked my way, eyes shining. She was hanging on my answer like that.
The channel I watch is Lumiere!
Not that I could say I watched Lumiere. The group didn't even exist yet. And I couldn't name-drop a channel Na-bin liked to score points, either — that channel didn't exist at this point in time either.
"Just... this and that."
"Wow! I watch this and that too!"
Han Yu-ri's reaction left me speechless. What even was that. Don't manufacture weird common ground.
"Want to drop the formalities? We're sharing a room anyway, and now we know each other's ages. Might as well be comfortable, right?"
I hesitated. Would dropping speech levels this fast work in my favor? Then again, drawing a line and insisting we take it slow could make me look like a stuck-up snob.
"I don't mind."
"Ajjabyo!"
Han Yu-ri flashed a brilliant smile around that bizarre little cheer. Yu Na-bin watched her, then tentatively raised a hand.
"Can I drop them too?"
"Of course!"
That wasn't Han Yu-ri's voice. My sudden outburst dropped a brief silence over the dorm.
Ah. I got too excited because my bias wanted to speak casually with me...
"Of course!"
"Don't."
"Hehe. Your face was so cute I want to copy it. You looked like a little fangirl who just ran into her bias."
That was when the scoreboard flickered and the screen came on. The MC appeared and opened his mouth.
From now on, you will receive training tailored to your rank.
But first — we will announce your first assignment, to be judged by the public.
A title appeared on the screen, and music spilled out. I knew this song very, very well.
...This one's going to be huge.
A future mega-hit. It wasn't an exaggeration to say the song had carried the show on its back. From a certain point on it had been everywhere — streets, broadcasts, social media — the kind of track every idol trainee covered just for practice.
This assignment is your introduction to the public — before The Super Rookies even airs.
One week from now, you will perform this stage on a music show.
"A music show...?"
Some of the trainees stared at each other, stunned. Trainees who weren't even a Rookie Group yet, on a music show stage before debut? But that wasn't the end of it.
The position you stand in will depend on your rank.
Center belongs to A-Class.
Camera time and parts will also be distributed differently by rank.
That much was absolutely true. A-Class even got solo shots, while F-Class barely got their faces on camera — just full shots, or a quick pan that skimmed right past them.
I glanced sideways on instinct. And the reactions unfolding were exactly what I'd expected. Faces that looked like the air had been punched out of them. F-Class trainees' shoulders sagged; some already had their heads down, tears showing. Even D-Class looked openly uneasy.
Trainees who had only just started appearing on broadcast. To them, a first chance in front of the public was the stage that would decide the first impression people remembered. An enormous opportunity for A-Class — and for F-Class, nothing but isolation and the taste of losing. This system was a cruel, cold-blooded reality.
And then—
However — three days before the music show, a rank re-evaluation will take place.
Your final rank for the stage will be decided by that re-evaluation.
How you make use of the opportunity in your hands... is up to you.
"...Huh?"
"Then...?!"
The atmosphere flipped in an instant. The air went hot. F-Class faces changed — despair giving way to resolve. D-Class shifted too. Lips that had been sighing pressed into a thin line. And A-Class... A-Class tensed as well.
Re-evaluation. Meaning you could sit back, get complacent, and get pushed out. Meaning nobody was safe.
This is where it really starts.
I curled my fingertips into a loose fist. A week from now, who would be the one smiling on that stage. From here on, it was every person for themselves.
I will seize this chance for Lumiere. I have to.
After training wrapped, we rode the elevator back to the dorm in silence. The faces in the mirror all looked exhausted — even A-Class had lost their composure. Practice volume had spiked with the first stage looming. All day running around the practice rooms, vocal training, camera rehearsals. There wasn't just one or two things to keep track of.
And the day after tomorrow was rank re-evaluation. A moment that was opportunity and crisis for everyone. An F-Class could climb to A-Class. An A-Class could fall. Nobody was slacking.
Honestly, I hadn't expected it to be this brutal. I looked at my face in the mirror and smiled at myself, a little bitterly. My stamina was fine, but the full-body ache felt painfully, viscerally real.
...I have a new respect for idols.
A moment later, the second we stepped off the elevator, Han Yu-ri smiled sweetly and held something out.
"Want some?"
A raw lemon sat in her hand.
"Eating that raw is a punishment, isn't it?"
"It's so refreshing it brings you back to life. Look at me! I'm perfectly fine."
She was so fine she didn't look fine.
"And did you know? A single lemon contains a whole lemon's worth of vitamin C?"
Han Yu-ri was a weird one. I was thinking that when—
"...Hey, did you see?"
"Is that for real?"
"Okay, but this is actually too much."
A strange murmur drifted down from the far end of the hallway.
Han Yu-ri tilted her head first.
"What's that about?"
And right then, a trainee came sprinting up, gasping for breath.
"Get over there, quick — they posted a notice."
I knew it in my gut. Something had just blown up.