Eva is an abused schoolgirl who lost her will to live. But her repeated attempts of suicide were unsuccessful and after each attempt her abuse kept multiplying. During one such attempt, she gets an message from an unknown id in her dm - "Pixieuwu":...
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Day 1 of Practise
I stood in the corner of the practice room, the mirror reflecting a face that looked almost foreign to me. My brow furrowed in exhaustion, my shoulders slumped under the weight of something far heavier than the dance moves I had to perfect. My body was drenched in sweat, but it wasn't just from the physical strain. It was the weight of my responsibility—being the leader of this group, the one who had to push the others forward, to guide them, to keep everything together. But right now, I didn't feel like I was holding anything together. I felt like I was breaking.
The room was loud with the sound of music blaring from the speakers, the others in my group dancing with a focus that I couldn't muster. But I couldn't let myself lose concentration. My eyes flickered to the side, where Jisung stood, arms crossed, his expression cold, sharp. He was watching me. Watching every single movement I made. And in that look, I saw something that I couldn't escape—disappointment.
He was being harder on me than anyone else, but I knew why. I was the leader. The one responsible.
"Eva," he called, his voice cutting through the music like a blade. "Again. And this time, don't drag your feet. It's not just about hitting the right steps; it's about commanding the stage, about showing them you belong up there."
His words felt like a slap. It wasn't the first time he'd been this harsh with me, but each time it stung like I was being torn apart from the inside. The others didn't have to deal with this. They were all going through the same choreography, the same practice session, but only I was singled out. I could feel the eyes of the other trainees on me as I fumbled through the routine, my legs aching, my arms burning. The moves weren't even that complicated, but it didn't matter. It was never about how hard the moves were; it was about how much I could endure. How much pain I could take without breaking.
My breath came in shallow gasps as I tried to get the timing right. I wasn't sure if I was too slow or too fast anymore. My mind was clouded, overwhelmed by the weight of expectations—mine and his. I could feel Jisung's eyes boring into my back, waiting for me to make a mistake, waiting for me to slip. And when I did, I could see the flash of disappointment flicker across his face.
"Eva," he said again, this time softer, but there was an edge to his voice that made my heart pound. "You need to step it up. You're the leader. If you can't keep up, how can you expect the others to?"
I wanted to say something, anything. But I couldn't find my voice. I couldn't tell him that I was already giving everything I had, that every breath was a struggle, that I was doing my best, but it never felt like enough. The silence in my chest was louder than any words I could have spoken. I looked down at my feet, ashamed, too afraid to look at him. Too afraid to let him see how badly I was crumbling inside.
The other trainees kept dancing, oblivious to my suffering. Maybe they thought I was just another leader, born with natural grace, an unshakeable presence. But what they didn't know was how fragile I was. How every compliment, every glance from Jisung, felt like it could shatter me if I wasn't careful. I wasn't strong like they thought I was. I was just... broken.
I tried again, my limbs moving through the choreography, but this time my legs didn't want to cooperate. My right ankle twisted slightly, sending a sharp pain up my calf. I stumbled, and the music came to an abrupt halt.
"Again."
The single word fell from Jisung's lips, as cold as ice, and I had to force myself to steady my breath. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I was the leader. I had to be strong. I had to be perfect. So I wiped the sting away, clenched my fists, and forced my feet to move again.
But the ache in my body was nothing compared to the ache in my heart. It wasn't just the physical exhaustion. It was the fear that no matter how hard I worked, it wouldn't be enough. I could already feel the weight of the other members starting to shift, the unspoken doubts creeping in. If I couldn't even handle this, how could I ever lead them? How could I ever be the one to guide them to the top?
Jisung's eyes never left me, and I knew that every time I faltered, his expectations were slipping further away. My movements weren't perfect enough for him, never quick enough, never sharp enough. My body screamed for rest, but the rest of me—the part of me that wanted to prove I was worthy of being a leader—ignored it. I kept pushing, kept fighting against my own limits.
I glanced briefly at the other trainees, hoping they hadn't noticed how badly I was struggling, but it was useless. I could see it in their eyes—how they were starting to question me, starting to wonder if I was really cut out for this. And it hurt more than anything Jisung had said.
The music started again, and I forced my body into position. My heart thundered in my chest, and I swore I could feel the pressure in my head rising to the point where I thought I might collapse. But I couldn't. Not yet. Not in front of them. Not in front of Jisung.
So I danced.
But every step felt like I was walking on broken glass.
And with every move, I prayed that maybe, just maybe, it would be enough.
After enduring 50 minutes of that torment, Jisung finally left the room to take a break. Olivia rushed over to me, grabbing my hand. "Are you okay?"
I sighed, frustration bubbling up inside me. "One day in, and I already see it—I'm not cut out to be the leader. You guys are all so clueless." My voice raised, loud enough for the other six to hear. "Why did you pick me? There were better choices—Jun-Pyo, for example. But here I am... stuck in this role, unable to prove myself. It's not too late, though. You can still change the leader."
"Listen, Noona," Hyun said as he walked toward me. "You're the one who should lead. You're amazing. The steps that sunbaenim gave you were tough. I couldn't have done them even after weeks of practice, but you nailed it on your first day. I can see you're giving it your all, putting in 100%. As someone who looks up to you like a little brother, I just want to say—you're the best among all of us."
"And sunbaenim found the steps easy because he's been in the industry for seven years," Soojin said as she walked up to me. I tried my best to hold it together. My body felt like it was running on empty, and just as if he could sense it, Jun-pyo approached me, offering to treat me to some food. He said he'd pay, but I declined. There was no way I was eating anything.
After my dad's warning message about not turning into a pig, I had already given up on eating—well, I'd given up on eating more. I only ate the bare minimum. And after having breakfast that day, I just couldn't bring myself to eat again.
Before i knew it, Jisung was back. And i was pushed back into the torture. For 4 hours. The practise time ended and Jisung left. Just as i thought i could go to the dorm to sleep another skz sunbaenim entered. Hyunjin Hwang.
And his eyes were focused on me. Well, i am doomed.
