The euphoria of the showcase performance lingered for days, and Yuna found herself smiling more often, her confidence bolstered by the praise they had received. She and Jiwon continued to work well together, their bond stronger than ever.

But as quickly as the high had come, a shadow began to creep in.

It started with whispers in the hallway, the kind Yuna had grown accustomed to ignoring. Trainees loved gossip—it was their way of venting under the immense pressure they all felt. Still, something about the hushed tones and darting glances made Yuna uneasy.

During a break between rehearsals, Yuna lingered near the vending machines, scrolling through her phone when she heard familiar voices just around the corner. She froze when she realized one of them was Jiwon’s.

“She doesn’t even know, does she?” a male voice said, followed by a short laugh.

“Why would I tell her?” Jiwon replied, his tone low and controlled. “It’s not like it matters. As long as I get through this program, nothing else does.”

Yuna’s heart dropped, her fingers gripping her phone tightly.

“You’re cold, man,” the other voice said. “But I guess it works. Just keep her on your side until the final selection.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Jiwon said, his voice clipped.

Yuna’s mind raced as she stepped back, her pulse pounding in her ears. She didn’t wait to hear more, turning and walking away before the tears she was holding back could spill over.

The words replayed in her head all through the afternoon. She doesn’t even know. It’s not like it matters. What had Jiwon meant? Had everything between them been part of some strategy?

When they crossed paths during rehearsal, Yuna avoided his gaze, her usual warmth replaced by a wall of indifference.

“Hey,” Jiwon said during a break, sitting down beside her. “You okay? You’ve been quiet.”

“I’m fine,” Yuna replied shortly, not looking up from her water bottle.

Jiwon tilted his head, studying her. “You sure? You seem—”

“I said I’m fine,” she snapped, her voice sharper than she intended.

Jiwon blinked, caught off guard. “Alright… if you say so.”

He stood and walked away, but not before Yuna caught the flash of confusion in his eyes.

That night, Yuna couldn’t sleep. Her mind was a storm of doubts and questions. She thought back to their duet, to the quiet encouragement he had offered her, to the way he had defended her when others doubted her abilities.

Was it all fake?

The next day, Yuna tried to keep her distance, but Jiwon wasn’t one to let things go unnoticed.

“Yuna,” he called after her as she left the practice room.

She hesitated but stopped, turning to face him.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his expression earnest. “Did I do something wrong?”

Yuna opened her mouth to reply, but the words caught in her throat. She wanted to confront him, to demand answers, but fear held her back. What if she had misunderstood? What if she was wrong?

“It’s nothing,” she said finally, her voice tight. “I’m just tired.”

Jiwon didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. “If you say so. But if something’s bothering you, I hope you’ll tell me.”

As he walked away, Yuna felt the weight of her uncertainty pressing down on her. For the first time, the connection she had felt with Jiwon was eclipsed by doubt, and she didn’t know how to find her way back to the light.