Ji-eun barely slept that night. Every time she closed her eyes, the glowing window from the music room hovered in her mind, its numbers and words as clear as day. Was it real? Or just a dream born from her longing to change?
The next morning, Ji-eun moved through her routine in a daze. She glanced at her reflection—dark hair, tired eyes, the same girl as always. But something inside her felt different. She hurried through breakfast, eager to get to school, to the music room, to the place where everything had changed.
Classes dragged on. Ji-eun's mind wandered, replaying the moment the Idol System appeared. She wondered if it would show up again, or if it had vanished as mysteriously as it arrived.
When the final bell rang, Ji-eun slipped away from the crowds and made her way to the music room. She closed the door behind her, heart pounding. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a soft shimmer, the blue window appeared before her eyes.
Name: Ji-eun
Age: 16
Vocal: 1 (37/100)
Dance: 1 (0/100)
Charisma: 1 (0/100)
Stage Presence: 1 (0/100)
Skills
Singing: 1 (12/100)
Dancing: 1 (0/100)
Public Speaking: 1 (0/100)
Ji-eun stared at the numbers. The system had remembered her progress from yesterday. She felt a thrill of excitement—this was real.
She sat at the piano and set her phone's timer. She sang for twenty minutes, her voice growing steadier with each song. The numbers ticked upward with every minute and every song.
When she finished, she checked the window:
Vocal: 1 (57/100)
Singing: 1 (32/100)
Ji-eun smiled. She could see her growth, minute by minute, song by song. The system was simple, but it was fair. If she worked hard, she would improve. There were no shortcuts, no tricks—just effort and time.
Curious, Ji-eun stood and tried a few dance steps she remembered from a school performance. She moved awkwardly at first, but the system counted every minute, every attempt.
Dance: 1 (5/100)
Dancing: 1 (5/100)
She laughed, breathless and a little embarrassed. But the numbers didn't lie. She was getting better, even if it was only by a little.
As the sun set outside, Ji-eun packed her things and glanced at the window one last time. She felt hope blooming in her chest—a quiet, steady hope that she could become someone new.
She left the music room with a promise to herself: she would return tomorrow, and the day after, and every day after that. She would practice, and she would grow—one minute, one step, one note at a time.