I stepped inside the recording booth, clutching my crumpled lyrics.
The door sealed shut behind me with a soft click that felt impossibly loud.
Through the glass, sixteen faces stared back—Yuhyun, Doyun, Jinwook, and the others, all waiting to see if I'd sink or swim.
I felt like a goldfish in a tank.
The booth itself was cramped, the air thick with the lingering scents of everyone who'd performed before me. Alpha musk. Beta neutrality. The faint chemical tang of nerves and adrenaline.
It pressed against my senses, making my suppressants work overtime.
I forced myself to breathe through my mouth, focusing on the microphone stand instead of the watching eyes.
The production assistant's voice crackled through the headphones. "Ready when you are, Han Jiwon."
I nodded, fingers trembling slightly against the paper.
The backing track began.
Slow. Haunting. Solemn.
A single piano chord rang through the speakers, minor key and achingly beautiful. Then another. And another.
