The practice room at ADOF Entertainment felt larger than Hanni had imagined. Bright white lights illuminated the glossy wooden floor, which looked as if it had just been polished. The constant clatter of sneakers hitting the floor created an intimidating backdrop. Hanni stood in the corner of the room, clutching her nearly empty water bottle. Sweat dripped from her temples, but it wasn’t the exertion that made her heart race. She was the only foreigner in the room, and every small step she took felt like an unwanted spotlight on her.
"Ten-minute break!" shouted a coach in a firm tone. The other trainees began to gather in groups, speaking in Korean at a pace Hanni struggled to follow. She tried hard to catch snippets of their conversations, but the accents and vocabulary they used felt like a puzzle missing half its pieces.
"Should I try to speak?" she murmured softly, more to herself than anyone else. But her tongue felt heavy. Her Korean was still stiff, even though she had practiced before coming to Korea.
At that moment, the practice room door opened, and a girl walked in with graceful yet confident steps. All the trainees immediately turned their heads, and the atmosphere seemed to shift. The girl was wearing an oversized white t-shirt with the agency’s logo, her long hair tied back neatly, accentuating her sharp yet soft features.
Hanni knew who she was. Everyone did.
"Kim Minji," whispered a trainee near Hanni, her tone a mix of awe and respect. "Our future leader."
Minji didn’t say anything as she entered. She simply gave a small nod to the coach and the other trainees before walking to the corner of the room to start stretching. Hanni couldn’t look away. There was something about the way Minji carried herself—calm, confident, and charismatic—that made Hanni feel both impressed and small.
"She doesn’t seem friendly," Hanni thought, biting her lower lip. Yet, at the same time, there was an inexplicable curiosity. How could someone look so perfect?
A few minutes passed, and the next training session began. The coach asked the trainees to pair up for basic choreography practice. Hanni looked around, hoping someone would approach her first. But everyone already had a partner—everyone except Minji.
"Hanni, you’ll pair up with Minji," said the coach, not giving her a chance to refuse.
Hanni froze. Minji simply gave a small nod and walked over to her. "Shall we begin?" she said in a low but firm voice.
Hanni nodded awkwardly. She wanted to impress Minji, but her clumsy movements kept causing her to misstep. Their feet collided, and Hanni nearly fell.
"Sorry!" Hanni said quickly, her face turning red.
Minji stopped, looking at Hanni with a neutral expression. But instead of scolding her, Minji simply said, "Relax. Don’t be so tense. Focus on the rhythm."
Minji’s voice made Hanni feel a little more at ease. But there was still a distance between them that couldn’t be bridged. Does she regret being paired with me? Hanni wondered.
However, at the end of the session, as everyone was preparing to leave, Minji approached Hanni, who was packing her bag.
"Today’s practice was pretty tough, huh?" Minji said, her tone warmer than Hanni had expected.
Hanni nodded quickly. "Yeah... Sorry for slowing us down earlier."
Minji gave a small smile—the first one Hanni had seen from her. "It’s okay. You’re just starting out, right? You’ll get used to it. If you need help, just let me know."
Hanni was stunned. In an instant, Minji’s cold demeanor had transformed into something more comforting. "Thank you," Hanni replied softly, her voice almost trembling. In that moment, she felt that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t alone in this foreign place.
---
When Minji walked into the practice room, she could already feel the tense atmosphere that often surrounded new trainees. Some of them looked at her with respect, others with fear. Minji was used to it.
But this time, something felt different.
A small girl stood in the corner of the room, looking like a lost deer in the middle of a forest. Her golden-brown hair was damp with sweat, and her face showed a mix of nervousness and almost excessive enthusiasm.
"That’s her," Minji thought. "The new trainee from Australia."
Minji observed the girl from afar during the practice session. Her movements weren’t perfect—sometimes too fast, sometimes too slow. But there was something about the way she kept trying, even when she made mistakes, that impressed Minji. The girl didn’t give up, even though she was clearly struggling.
When the coach paired her with Hanni, Minji felt a little surprised. She wasn’t the type to easily interact with new people, especially those who hadn’t yet adjusted. But a sense of responsibility stirred within her. As a senior trainee, she knew that being a leader meant supporting others, even if it sometimes felt like a hassle.
"Relax. Don’t be so tense. Focus on the rhythm," she said, trying to give simple guidance. Hanni just nodded, her face looking very serious. Minji almost laughed at how hard the girl was trying.
But what truly touched Minji was when they finished practice. Even though she looked exhausted, Hanni was still smiling and trying to greet the other trainees, even if no one really responded. She’s trying so hard to be accepted, Minji thought.
When she saw Hanni packing her bag alone, Minji decided to approach her. Not out of pity, but because she saw something in Hanni that reminded her of herself when she first became a trainee: fear hidden behind a smile.
"If you need help, just let me know," she said sincerely. And for the first time in a long while, Minji felt like she was doing something right.
---
Danielle watched Hanni and Minji from a distance, sitting on the floor with a water bottle in hand. She had just finished vocal practice and had come to the dance room to retrieve her forgotten notebook. From her perspective, the interaction between Hanni and Minji looked like a scene from a drama.
"Unnie always looks so cold," Danielle murmured with a small smile. "But she’s actually really caring."
Danielle knew Minji well enough to understand that the small smile she gave Hanni was rare. Minji wasn’t the type to easily open up to others. But when she decided to care, it meant that person was truly special.
"Hanni has a different kind of energy," Danielle thought. "She could make Minji unnie more relaxed, even if she doesn’t realize it."
Danielle stood up, putting her water bottle in her bag. She smiled as she thought, Maybe they’ll make an interesting pair.
---
Haerin was reviewing choreography on the monitor in the adjacent practice room. She hadn’t paid much attention when Hanni and Minji were paired up, but the sound of Hanni’s missteps kept distracting her.
However, when she caught a glimpse of their interaction, Haerin noticed something others might have missed.
"Minji unnie rarely smiles like that," Haerin murmured softly, her eyes fixed on the screen in front of her with a blank expression. "The new trainee must have something special."
She didn’t say anything to the others, but deep down, Haerin felt there was something intriguing between Hanni and Minji—something only she could understand because of her observant nature rather than active participation.
---
In the high-pressure world of trainees, where every misstep could mean the end of a dream, Hanni and Minji began to form a small but meaningful connection. Hanni, with her unyielding spirit, slowly drew Minji’s attention, someone who had long shielded herself from others.
---
The practice rooms at ADOF Entertainment, usually bustling with activity, grew quiet as night fell. The trainees left one by one after finishing their schedules. However, in one of the practice rooms on the second floor, the lights were still on. The sound of bass music reverberating through the walls was the only sign of life on that floor.
Inside the room, five trainees were gathered, working hard on a choreography they kept repeating. Despite the late hour, there was no sign of fatigue on their faces.
"Again," said a long-haired girl in a flat but firm tone. It was Minji.
Hanni, standing in the front row, let out a deep sigh as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. "Minji unnie, I think I’ve forgotten how to stand straight," she joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Haerin, standing behind Hanni, looked at her with no expression. "That’s because you keep missing the steps," she said quietly, causing everyone to chuckle. Haerin, though rarely speaking, always had a knack for delivering perfectly timed comments.
"Haerin, you’re so mean!" Hanni protested with a smile. She knew Haerin didn’t mean any harm—it was just her way of talking.
"Haerin’s secretly a genius," added Danielle, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor tying her hair. "But seriously, Hanni, you need to focus more. If you don’t, we’ll all get scolded by the coach tomorrow morning."
Hanni dramatically covered her face. "I’m trying, really! But my brain and my feet just aren’t syncing!"
Hyein, sitting in the corner massaging her ankles, looked at Hanni with a mischievous gaze. "I get it, Hanni unnie. My feet sometimes forget they’re supposed to follow the rhythm too." Her tone was full of sarcasm, making Hanni stick her tongue out at her.
Minji just shook her head slightly as she watched them. As the senior trainee, she felt responsible for keeping the atmosphere productive. But there was another side of her that quietly enjoyed their energy. These trainees were stubborn, but they had an incredible drive.
"Alright," Minji finally said. "Let’s do it one more time. After that, we can take a break."
Hanni raised her hand high. "Promise? I don’t want you suddenly changing your mind and saying, ‘Two more times!’"
Danielle laughed. "Hanni, you’re so bold talking to Minji unnie like that."
Minji just raised an eyebrow, then pressed the button on the speaker. The music started again, and everyone returned to their starting positions.
---
Practice ended about an hour later. Though exhausted, none of them left immediately. They sat in a circle in the middle of the room, sharing snacks Hanni had secretly brought.
"You know, I didn’t think I’d make it this far," Danielle said as she unwrapped her chocolate. "At first, I thought being a trainee was just about dancing and singing. But our mental strength is tested every day."
Hanni nodded quickly. "Totally agree! I used to think I just needed to practice hard, then debut. But we have to learn other things too, like... facing the camera, learning how to smile, even how to speak."
Hyein chuckled softly. "My smile got criticized once. The coach said it looked too fake."
Haerin, who was usually quiet, finally spoke up. "I prefer physical training over interviews. Being asked to talk in front of a camera feels like dying."
They all laughed at Haerin’s comment. Though she always seemed calm and mysterious, Haerin occasionally made surprising confessions that brought laughter.
Minji, sitting among them, looked at each of her teammates. She was quietly impressed by how they endured the immense pressure. As the longest-serving trainee, Minji knew how difficult this journey was. She had seen her peers quit, one by one, unable to handle the trainee lifestyle.
But these girls were different. There was something that kept them moving forward, even when everything felt impossible.
"If you’re feeling overwhelmed, just remember your goal," Minji finally said, breaking the silence. "I know it’s hard, but we’re all here because we have a dream. Don’t forget that."
Hanni looked at Minji with shining eyes. She rarely heard Minji speak at length, so every word felt like valuable advice.
"Unnie, you’re like a motivator," Hanni said with a smile.
Minji just shook her head. "I just don’t want you to give up. I know you can do it."
---
After finishing practice, they all returned to the dorm. The three-story building looked simple from the outside, but inside were several rooms housing the trainees.
Hanni shared a room with Danielle, while Haerin roomed with Hyein. Minji, as the senior trainee, had her own room, though she often felt lonely.
In Hanni and Danielle’s room, the lights were off, but soft laughter could still be heard.
"You know," Hanni said as she lay in bed, "I almost cried today when Minji unnie told me to focus more."
Danielle laughed softly. "Unnie is strict. But I know she cares about you."
Hanni sighed. "She seems like an impenetrable wall. But I think... she’s not that hard, right?"
Danielle smiled. "I agree. If she really didn’t care, she wouldn’t bother giving you advice. You’re lucky."
Hanni stared at the ceiling, thinking about Danielle’s words. She knew Minji had a lot on her plate as a senior trainee. But the fact that Minji took the time to guide her made Hanni feel valued.
---
Meanwhile, in Haerin and Hyein’s room, the atmosphere was much quieter. Haerin was already asleep, but Hyein was still awake, busy writing something in her notebook.
"We need a secret plan," Hyein murmured to herself. She was brainstorming ideas for a "midnight mission," something she often did to lighten the mood among the trainees.
"Tomorrow night, I’ll take them to the rooftop to see the stars," she whispered. She knew it wasn’t a brilliant idea, but she wanted to create a moment they could remember amidst their busy lives.
---
The next day, after practice ended, Hyein took everyone to the rooftop. Using the excuse of "getting some fresh air," she managed to bring Minji, Hanni, Danielle, and Haerin up there.
"What are we doing here?" Minji asked, usually not one to waste time.
"Nothing much," Hyein replied with a big smile. "I just thought we needed a little time to relax."
They all sat on the edge of the rooftop, looking up at the starry night sky. The atmosphere was quiet but warm. In that moment, there was no pressure, no competition. They were just a group of young girls sharing the same dream.
Hanni broke the silence. "Do you think we’ll debut?"
The question made everyone fall silent. They looked at each other, trying to read each other’s thoughts.
"I don’t know," Danielle finally answered. "But I know one thing—if we do debut, I hope we’re all in the same group."
Minji looked at Danielle with meaningful eyes. Though she didn’t say it, deep down she hoped for the same thing.
---
That night, under the starry Seoul sky, the trainees began to feel that their bond was more than just being teammates. Though they didn’t know what the future held, their connection grew stronger, forming the foundation for the journey ahead.