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"Sing."

Her respirations increased, and the familiar dull burn of anxiety flourished in her chest. She looked out at several smiling faces, only one of which looked similar to hers, their gazes intimidating despite their prolific friendliness. One of them nodded in encouragement for her to fulfill their simple yet difficult request.

Just sing. It's what you flew thousands of miles to do.

Caramel colored hands picked up a pair of expensive headphones and placed them on her ears over her long hair so as to not mess up the style she had paid an obscene amount for and spent several hours in a stylist's chair to achieve. A pink tongue darted out over red stained lips, and an exhaled prayer that the plane's cabin air hadn't dried out her vocal cords passed through them.

To her understanding, she had already gotten the job. She had already sent in digital recordings of her work in the studio, footage from live performances, and even sang over video conference, proving she was the right candidate to fill the recently vacated position. However, one of the executives of Iconic Entertainment was just on his way out as she was on her way in and wanted to see what he was investing his hard earned money in.

Quinn had briefed her that things here were pali pali , or fast paced, so if an executive was taking precious time out of his schedule to hear her sing, it would be in her best interest to do so, and with neither fear nor delay.

She looked down at the pop filter in front of the microphone, expanded her diaphragm, and sang.

Notes and lyrics from a song sung by an American singer filled the sound booth. The song was safe for her vocal range and cold instrument, and the original singer well known enough that she was sure her asian employers would instantly recognize the melody. She was a literal worldwide pop icon who's face she had seen on a billboard in Seoul earlier that very day.

Line by line she felt her instrument begin to warm, becoming more pliant, more true, more trustworthy. She shifted her body forward slightly, her heels coming a mere breath from the floor and her chest lifting as she melted into the song and into the eyes of her audience one by one. They were gradually pulled into the lyrics without them realizing, and if not, they were pulled into the spell of the melody that surpassed the language barrier as if it were nonexistent.

Deep in her belly, she began to feel it, just as she did every time she sang. A quiet happiness, the wing flutter of a single butterfly, and the delicate whisper of pleasant memories. Music reverberated in her chest, spreading throughout her being and leaving no part of it untouched, just as the sun's rays covers open fields.

The notes, unseen but felt, swirled around her the way October leaves dance in the autumn wind. Her hand joined them, floating on its own accord, gesticulating, gracefully weaving its way through the invisible sharps and flats in the air before finally resting on her middle.

Elation is what she felt when the executive lifted his head and a corner of his mouth simultaneously, the two assistants sitting on either side of him responding in a similar fashion. They weren't the standard audience members that would become enthralled at the simple ability for someone to sing on key, so their subtle approval spoke louder than the sound of her own voice in her ears.

Because a slow nod of the head and the eyes narrowed in fascination from someone with a trained ear gave her more positive reinforcement than a crowd of people cheering.

She closed the song with a breathy voice, a small smile lifting her cheeks, and it was only then that she realized her eyes had closed at some point.

They floated open to find the executive and his assistants standing. One of them, a male that looked to be a little older than she, leaned down to speak into the microphone on the other side of the booth's spotless glass.

His speech was moderately paced, and his words enunciated in a way that showed that English was not his first language, but was one that he grasped very well. "Thank you very much. Your voice is beautiful. Can you please tell us your name again?"

She exhaled a full smile of relief and bowed deeply at the waist, just as Quinn taught her.

"Thank you! My name is Winter. Winter Flores."

"Welcome to Iconic Entertainment, Winter. We are very happy to have you."

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Winter opened the last of her few boxes of belongings she had shipped to Seoul, emptying the contents one by one and finding new places for them in her new apartment. It was small, but it was all she needed, and it near Quinn, her only friend in the country.

For now, anyway.

It was Quinn, her best friend in fact, who was responsible for getting her her new job as a background vocalist. Quinn had been singing with Iconic for three years now, and had thrust videos of Winter singing into the executive's faces as soon as the previous vocalist retired to start a family with her husband.

Quinn, being the type of person that always got what she wanted and usually how she wanted it, had the company fly Winter to Seoul, had her living quarters and transportation arranged, as well as a stipend provided so that she could furnish her space and buy groceries.

Or as Quinn put it: she made sure her bestie wasn't treated like a basic bitch. She was valuable acquisition and would be treated as such.

After getting settled in and a much needed nap, Winter woke up to the feel of hard slaps against her butt.

"Wake your fluffy ass up. It's time to get ready to go," Quinn called.

Winter scrunched up her face and squinted at the light that was flicked on in her eyes. "I think I changed my mind. Go ahead without me," she grumbled.

Quinn rolled her eyes at Winter's feeble attempt to pull the sheets back up over her, only for them to be snatched off again. "You're not flaking on me tonight! It's JK's comeback and we're going!"

"I don't want to go!" Winter whined, still feeling jet lagged. "I was just on a plane for like three days!"

"Wake ya ass up!" Quinn chanted over and over while clapping and jumping on the bed until Winter finally relented. She sat up and slapped Quinn on the back of her thigh, making her squeal and flop down next to her.

"Tonight is a big deal," she smiled. "Even though we aren't singing tonight, we have to go show support."

"Ok," Winter droned as she dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

"Don't you want to see who you'll be singing for?" Quinn added, following her and leaning against the door frame.

"I know who he is," Winter snapped. How could she have not heard of JK? She had heard his music plenty of times since Quinn worked with him.

"But you've never seen him perform live," Quinn smiled knowingly. "It's amazing. And I'm not just saying that because I work with him either."

"You sound like you have a crush on him."

"Please! I work with him," Quinn scoffed, looking her up and down. "I can appreciate talent without being thirsty."

Winter just laughed at her defensiveness. Knowing Quinn, she probably did have a crush on her sort-of coworker.

"I'll be back in an hour to pick you up. Wear something sexy."

"Sexy?" Winter frowned. "Bitch, I don't even feel like going!"

"Ok, but don't get mad when you look ugly standing next to me. I'm going to say I don't know you." Quinn stuck out her tongue and left.

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The cheers of the crowd were deafening, but it was nothing that Winter wasn't used to. She had performed behind quite a few notable names back home in the States and was accustomed to audiences of many sizes, including the one she and Quinn were now a part of in a vip section. The energy in the air was infectious, and she found her energy levels being amplified by those around her.

The venue darkened and multiple screens began to play a video showing a young boy who couldn't have been much older than fifteen, a random number tag pinned on his shirt, singing his heart out in front of a plain blue backdrop. Countless women and girls with bunny ears atop their heads screamed in response to the youth, who even at such a tender age had a beautiful voice.

Winter watched the montage of his career thus far with interest: him singing in a sound booth; sweat dripping from his face and body as he practiced dancing; him making mistakes and laying on the floor looking exhausted only to get back up and keep moving. She found herself smiling when a clip of him winning an award for Rookie of the Year played, showing how all of his dedication was finally paying off.

The video had built up her curiosity to the point of bubbling over, and when the building went dark again she felt almost as excited for the coming show as the crowd around her.

The stage finally illuminated, and from a platform below the stage rose the man whose story she had just watched, the man that she would be singing with, the man that would soon alter the course of her life:

Kpop idol JK.

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