By the time our session is over, my quads are sore and sweat drips down my back profusely. Mr Lee made us do our dance routine twelve times. The first five times he paused the track every few seconds, making us perform the each step to near perfection.

I say near because the last verse will honestly be the death of me. Thankfully, the last time did the trick and I executed the move at the precise moment, earning a smile from Mr. Lee. 

Once we are done, everyone sits down in a large circle. The fifteen of us girls, the seven Viva members and Mr. Lee. 

Chan, being the lead dancer of Viva starts the discussion. I listen intently to his words of wisdom as he points out small minute postures and movements we could incorporate into the routine to make it stand out. 

He's smaller than Jiho but he stands out the most with his bright pink hair and light brown eyes. I concentrate on his words but ever so often I feel Jiho staring at me and it is enough to make my cheeks flush. 

I've never felt this conscious around a boy before. Granted, we've never actually interacted with Viva till now and I've only ever seen them on tv. But still why does he have to keep looking? It's making it so hard for me to concentrate. 

An invisible string pulls my gaze towards him for only a second and I see him turn to Chan, making me wonder if I am imagining things. 

Once Chan finishes, all of us smile gratefully and chant out the words thank you in unison. Our voices bounce off the walls, filling the room like an encore. It makes some of the boys smile and now it's my turn to stare at Jiho as he flashes that million dollar smile of his that made one of Viva's performances trend on YouTube. 

Dammit. I really need to stop. The last thing I need right now is a very handsome, six foot tall distraction. 

The boys offer some words of encouragement and all of us stand up once the session is over. I can already see a few younger trainees waiting outside, eager to get on with their dance practices for the day. 

They stare at Viva and then us and it's hard not to see the admiration on their faces even when they look at us girls. It reminds me of how I used to look at Dalia when she came to visit during her trainee years. 

She hadn't debuted yet then but she was already a hero to me. 

The boys of Viva leave first, followed by JinJin and her merry troop of followers. They march past the juniors with their heads held high, ignoring them completely. The remaining trainees stop to chat with some of their junior friends and Binna waits for me by the door as I pick up my satchel bag.

"Jina, I'd like a minute," Mr. Lee's voice freezes me in place and she stares at me in alarm. 

"I'll meet you at the lobby," I mouth to her and then head to the corner where a large black speaker sits. Mr. Lee stands next to it, a clipboard in hand and fingers tapping the top of the amplifier. 

"You were off your game today," Mr. Lee notes without looking up from the papers in his hands. 

"I promise to do better," I reply immediately and stand straight ready to receive more criticism. It certainly seems to be that kind of day for me. 

He looks up at me through thick red rimmed glasses and his eyes narrow. "Why were you crying?"

"I wasn't," I quickly say as panic burrows its way into the back of my neck. It feels like something digging into my skin, I have the strongest urge to scratch it. The last thing I want is for a teacher to report that I have caved under stress. 

Management wants idols who are immune to staggering amounts of criticism, insane working hours and the ability to smile pretty through it all. Trainees who can't take the heat get kicked out. Period. 

"I think it was an allergy," I justify even though Mr. Lee doesn't look like he buys my act in the slightest. 

"Good. Wouldn't want you going soft just because you've become quite popular. I expect A game from you twenty four seven. Got it?" 

I nod vigorously, earning a satisfied smirk from him. 

"Usually I would mark anyone tardy as absent but I'll let it slide only for today. See you in practice tomorrow," He dismisses me with a wave of a hand. "And don't be late." 

"Thank you so much, sir. I really appreciate it." Relief floods my body and my muscles simultaneously relax. I am so grateful I could hug him right now. 

I mutter more 'thank yous' as I leave the room even though he isn't looking at me anymore. The younger trainees rush past me and I greet them before running to the lifts. 

Another day of training is over and exhaustion sets in like it is routine to feel this tired once I'm done for the day. 

It is already 8pm and the floor is relatively empty, save for the few hardworking trainees still going at it in the practice studios. I walk along the empty hallway and press the button to the lifts. 

Sweat drips down the side of my face and I pull out a small hand towel from my bag and begin to wipe down. I continue blotting all the sweat behind my neck and under my armpits when the lift stops at the fifth floor. 

I didn't expect anyone to get in during this time of day and freeze mid air with half the towel stuck in my shirt. I then swallow down a bunch of curse words when none other than Jiho and a few of his members stand by the threshold on the other side of the lift doors. 

Why? Why do I keep bumping into him ever since that day at the market? 

I bow in greeting, take a step back, making room for them and then glance up at the white strobe light lining the ceiling. 

Oh great timing Gods, why couldn't you have made us meet when I don't look and smell like one of those flashers who harass people in the underground subway stations.  

I pull the towel out from my armpit and try to make myself look somewhat presentable by adjusting my hair. The worst part is I can see the boy's expressions through the reflective lift doors and it's obvious they are trying to suppress their smiles. 

If I could die from embarrassment, my time and place of death would be here in this very lift. 

I don't realise that Jiho has taken a step back until his shoulder brushes against mine. A rush of warmth resonates from the contact and I'm almost afraid to meet his eyes. 

Thankfully he doesn't look at me but I hear concern in his voice as he whispers. 

"You, okay? Seems like you had a rough day." 

Are we allowed to talk freely in front of his members? I've never spoken to any sunbaes before, aside from two members from Green Eyed Girls after my audition. I remember reading the no dating clause, stamped in large, bold font on the second page of my contract. 

Trainees are not allowed to date and neither are idols until after three years of debuting. 

Viva passed their three year mark three years ago. So I suppose they are allowed to date now even though no dating scandals have broken out exposing any of them. 

I finally look up to see the sharp outline of Jiho's side profile. Who the hell looks this good under such bad lighting? 

I suppose replying to a question doesn't equal dating. We're just having a conversation. Idols interact with each other all the time. This shouldn't be any different and with the way his members ignore us, I figure interacting with the opposite sex must be normal for them. 

Even if it isn't for me. 

"I'm fine. All's good." My answer is cautious and full of mistrust. I barely know this boy who makes my heart beat like it's running for a marathon. For all I know he could be a spy for Mr. Yang, ever ready to report should I slip up. 

Although I've never heard of a Kpop idol spy before but these days you just never know. 

Jiho frowns at the lift doors and it's obvious he doesn't buy a word I've said. The heat from his body is almost palpable as his shoulder brushes against mine again. We are so close, for a moment I forget that his members are in the lift with us. 

I know I should move a way but my feet stay glued to the floor. He's the one who came to me, why should I be the one to move away. Especially since I don't really want to. 

The lift doors open, breaking the moment between us and his members walk out first. 

"You know if you need to talk to someone, I'm here. I've been through this. I know how stressful it is." 

There are people in the lobby, Binna being one of them standing by the front desk. I don't want anyone to see us so I nod brusquely his way, my answer neither a yes or no. Our eyes meet for the briefest of seconds before I rush out of the lifts, away from him. 

Thankfully, none of the other trainees are here and no one notices our interaction. I don't look back even though I can hear his steady foot steps behind me. Jiho joins his members by the large sliding doors and I watch him leave the building and get into long black SUV. 

"What did Mr. Lee want?" Binna asks, breaking me from my reverie, all thoughts of the handsome and friendly idol evaporate as his car disappears from sight. 

"He warned me not to be late again," I summarise as we walk out into the cold night air. My damp shirt causes me to shiver and I wrap a scarf around myself, trying to keep warm.

On the ride back, I lean against the window thinking about how tough today has been and if tomorrow will only get tougher.

"You want to talk about it?" Binna bats her thick eyelashes at me, looking worried. After four years of friendship, the both of us know whenever one is down in the dumps but we never pressure each other for answers. 

It is our mutual understanding to give each other space to talk when ready and right now Binna stays silent, her company providing me more comfort than any words could.

"Do you sometimes wonder if you made a mistake?" I finally ask after a long stretch of silence, making her turn my way. "What if all of this isn't worth it? Isn't enough?" 

My thoughts travel down that familiar rabbit hole known as Dalia but no one knows the inner turmoil I've been experiencing ever since news of her death broke out. 

Except maybe the person who remains equally in denial. The person who sent the letter. 

Binna's fingers interlace with mine and she squeezes in reassurance. "I've had those doubts before but there's nothing else I can see myself doing. This is all I want. And we've worked so hard. We deserve a little happiness, right?" 

I blink at her, not knowing the answer to that anymore. Debuting used to equate to success and happiness beyond comprehension. Now I'm not so sure anymore. 

Which is why I can't stop thinking about the note in that stupid letter. And when we get home and JinJin throws the bundle of letters at my feet I almost leap at the sight. 

I grab the pile, ignoring the blatant jealousy on her face and rush to my room while Binna makes small talk with the other trainees. Some of the letters are opened making me wonder if JinJin and the rest went through them already.

I flip through each one, my heart racing a mile a minute but I don't find any black laced letters. Disappointment sinks in like a punch to the gut and now I really feel like the biggest fool on the planet for buying into someones idea of a cruel prank. 

I spread out the letters across my mattress, feeling demotivated and angry but then I see it. There is a single letter that stands out from the rest because of the pink netting that is glued to it's back in criss-cross patterns. 

Dalia wore an outfit with this exact material attached to her skirt in Sweet Poison's second song that became a chart topper. 

I grab the letter and notice it is already opened. The girls must have definitely read it and I pull the letter open, paralysed by the fear that they have read a message meant only for me. 

"Good luck for your training, Jina! Praying that you debut!" 

I release a sharp exhale after reading those placid words and my fingers traverse the length of the card. Sure enough there is something lodged between the layers of paper. 

The sound of paper rips and a small note falls to my lap, flattened and folded. 

I unfurl it, casting a cautious glance at the door ever so often and then I look at the small cursive words that form the second note from my mysterious 'fan'. 

Didn't hear about my note in the news. Does that mean I can trust you? My information is sensitive but I can assure you it is the truth.

My back hits the wall next to my bed and I stare blankly at the note in my hand. I don't know who this person is but one thing is for sure, I can't wait for the next letter. 

Hey another letter. Another mystery. Hope you guys are enjoying the story so far. Please vote/comment/share if you are and have a great day wherever you are :) :)