My chest rose and fell, lungs pulling air in ragged gulps. The last line stared up at me from the wrinkled paper:
"Echoes live when hearts can't bear—
I was here. I was there."
The timer buzzed.
00:00
"Pens down!" The production assistant's voice cut through the studio.
I dropped my pen.
"You have sixty seconds to review your assigned instrumental before performance begins."
Camera drones descended lower, circling like vultures waiting to feed on our terror.
I looked at my crumpled lyrics, written in desperate handwriting that barely resembled my own.
My fingers trembled.
This wasn't some clever Halloween concept.
This was my mother. My childhood. Everything I'd locked away in that empty house when I left for Seoul.
Now I had ninety seconds to perform it.
"Now, who wants to perform first?" The production assistant's question echoed through Recording Studio C.
Doyun's hand shot up.
So did Yuhyun's.
Of course.
