The headlines burned into my retinas even when I closed my eyes.
"OMEGA TRAINEE EXPOSED—IMMEDIATE CONTRACT TERMINATION"
"Why Omegas Don't Belong on Stage: Industry Expert Weighs In"
"Fragile Flowers Can't Handle Idol Life—Science Proves It"
I scrolled through the comment section beneath the latest article, each word a fresh cut.
OmegasAreWeak2024: Thank god they caught him before debut. Imagine the embarrassment during his first heat on stage lmaooo
AlphaPride88: Omegas should stick to what they're good at—making babies and staying home.
BetaBestFriend: I feel bad for him, but rules exist for a reason. He would've collapsed under pressure anyway.
The phone screen reflected my pale face in the dim lighting of the training room.
After four years of secret training, along with four years of blockers and lies, this was the fate that awaited any omega foolish enough to dream.
I tucked the phone away and faced the mirror.
The boy staring back looked delicate and ethereal, everything society expected an omega to be.
Everything they claimed couldn't survive the brutal world of idol training.
"Prove them wrong," I whispered to my reflection.
Three days later, audition day arrived.
I locked myself in the cramped bathroom stall at AlphaNet Studios.
The fluorescent light flickered overhead as I fumbled with the pill bottle. My hands trembled, making the white capsules rattle like dice in a cup.
Two blockers. Double the recommended dose, but audition day demanded extra insurance.
The pills scraped down my throat, bitter and chalky.
Fire bloomed in my chest as the suppressants hit my system, my body rejecting what it needed to survive this charade.
I peeled the adhesive backing off the masking strip; today I'm using the expensive kind that cost three weeks of part-time wages.
The synthetic beta pheromones made my nose wrinkle as I pressed it against my scent glands.
Guilt twisted in my stomach alongside the medication.
Mom always said lying corroded the soul, that truth was the only foundation worth building on.
But she'd never seen what I'd seen in those headlines, never watched dreams crumble because of chromosomes and biology.
I pushed through the heavy doors and stepped into chaos.
The audition hall stretched before me like a colosseum, filled with bodies radiating confidence and aggression.
A hundred trainees clustered in groups, their voices creating a wall of sound that pressed against my eardrums.
The air itself felt thick, saturated with competing pheromones that made my chest constrict.
The Alpha scents dominated the air, sharp cedar, burning spice, and metallic dominance that triggered every omega instinct I'd spent years suppressing.
My body screamed run.
But I forced my shoulders back and lifted my chin.
Near the registration table, two alphas circled each other like wolves establishing pack order.
Their scents flared as they sized up the competition, neither willing to back down first.
A handful of betas, scattered among the alphas, instinctively stuck close together, their nervous energy crackling through their subdued pheromones.
I wove between the clusters, keeping my breathing shallow.
A broad-shouldered alpha with platinum hair pushed past me, while his friends flanked him like bodyguards.
"Another beta? He won't last a week."
His smirk cut deeper than his words.
The others laughed, their attention already moving to easier prey.
My fingers curled into fists, nails biting crescents into my palms.
The adhesive strip burned against my throat, the synthetic beta scent feeling more like a target than camouflage in this predator's den.
Every instinct begged me to find the nearest corner, to make myself small and invisible.
But I'd come too far to hide now.
I navigated deeper into the hall, my pulse hammering against the masking strip.
Near the center stage, a figure commanded attention without saying a word.
Tall and impossibly composed, he moved through practice choreography with mechanical precision.
Every line of his body spoke fluency in movement, each gesture calculated and flawless.
Seo Haejun.
Even I knew that name. The golden trainee, groomed since childhood, already half-debuted before stepping foot in this room.
His coal-black eyes swept the crowd with detached assessment, cataloguing threats and dismissing weaknesses in single glances.
When his gaze passed over me, something cold settled in my chest.
I kept walking.
Raucous laughter erupted from my left, drawing stares and scowls.
A silver-haired alpha sprawled across three chairs, boots propped on the table like he owned the place.
His friends clustered around him, feeding off his chaotic energy.
"You call that dancing?" He gestured at a nervous beta practicing nearby. "My grandmother moves better, and she's been dead a decade."
Kang Minjae. The troublemaker who'd nearly been expelled from three agencies.
His grin held wild edges that made my stomach flip, dangerous and magnetic in equal measure.
A commotion near the water station caught my attention.
"Pathetic." The voice dripped disdain. "Why do they even let trash like you audition?"
A muscular alpha with crimson hair loomed over a smaller trainee, his predatory smile promising violence.
Lee Hyunki. Failed trainee turned serial bully.
The smaller boy cowered, tears threatening to spill.
My jaw clenched.
"Jiwon?"
The voice hit me like lightning.
I turned, heart stopping.
Warm brown eyes widened in recognition, a familiar face older but unchanged where it mattered.
Park Yuhyun stood frozen ten feet away, his expression cycling through shock, joy, and concern.
My childhood friend. My biggest secret. My worst nightmare walking into this room.
He stepped forward, lips parting to speak my name again.
Suddenly, the sharp screech of feedback from the speakers cut through the hall like a blade, and every conversation died instantly.
"All trainees, please take your assigned seats immediately."
PD Kwon's voice boomed through the sound system, crisp and commanding.
Yuhyun's mouth snapped shut, his outstretched hand freezing mid-reach.
Relief flooded through me as bodies surged toward the plastic chairs arranged in neat rows.
I slipped into the crowd, putting distance between us before he could follow.
My assigned seat was in the third row, sandwiched between a nervous beta who kept checking his phone and an alpha whose cologne made my eyes water.
The overhead lights dimmed as PD Kwon emerged on stage, tablet clutched in his manicured hands.
"Welcome, trainees, to Rise of the Idols."
His voice carried false warmth that didn't reach his calculating eyes.
"One hundred and one dreams enter this building today. Only seven will walk out as the next global sensation."
The entire hall held its breath.
"The evaluation stage begins in thirty minutes. Show us what separates the stars from the failures."
His smile turned razor-sharp.
"Let the games begin."
The lights dimmed.
One hundred predators bared their teeth.
My chest ached with suppressant fire, but I lifted my chin anyway.
I would debut.
No matter what.