This story is a work of fiction made purely for entertainment purposes. It is based on fictional scenarios involving public figures, but it does not reflect real-life personalities, actions, or events. Please do not hate or judge any real individuals based on this fan-made content
Chapter One: Who Is She?
The dormitory buzzed with quiet chaos. Chopsticks clinked against ramen cups, music leaked from earbuds, and laughter echoed through the hallways of the K-pop survival show headquarters.
And then— silence.
The door creaked open. She stepped inside.
Black and white sneakers hit the floor with purpose. Black cargo pants hung perfectly on her hips, paired with a fitted turtleneck that whispered danger. Her hair was styled into a flawless royal bun—tight, elegant, regal. The glossy glow of her lips shimmered under the overhead lights. She didn't smile. She didn't look around. She didn't need to.
She was the moment.
The cameraman forgot to press record for a full three seconds. He blinked, then muttered under his breath, "Who is she?"
Yeonjun looked up from his phone. His brows lifted. "Damn."
Felix choked on his drink.
Jungkook turned slowly, a rare softness blinking into his expression.
Karina leaned against the wall and scowled. "She's not even famous yet," she said to no one in particular. "Why does she walk like she's already center stage?"
"Because she is," whispered someone in the background.
(Y/N) dropped her bag on the floor with a solid thud. "Annyeonghaseyo," she said smoothly. "Je ireumeun (Y/N)-imnida. I'm here for the main position."
Someone laughed. The air got ten degrees colder.
"No, really," she added, her eyes locking with the nearest idol. "Main everything."
In the days that followed, they would try to put her in a box: Too bold. Too quiet. Too late. Too soon.
But (Y/N) wasn't built for boxes.
She was built for stages.
And soon—she'd own them all.