I remember asking Dalia all those years ago about what it felt like being a trainee. I was ten and she was fourteen, a trainee in her early years at PT. She'd come back to visit for a few days and I had gone to visit her as soon as my parents allowed it. 

She told me about the lessons, the constant evaluations and the chances she had to perform in front of small crowds on stage. Dalia never painted the stressful atmosphere every other trainee - including me - experienced. One would think she actually enjoyed it. 

"How does it feel performing on stage? How do you do it?" I had stared at her in awe as I sat huddled on her bed, arms circled around my knees. 

She was going through her things on her small make shift dresser, counting the lip stick shades she had before stuffing them into the knapsack she carried everywhere. She was completely oblivious to my gawking but then again I had been her shadow for years. 

Maybe she was used to it. 

Maybe she was used to everyone staring at her, being a trainee at one of the biggest entertainment companies in Korea. 

"It's nice. I enjoy it. I enjoy the way I can manipulate the way the audience feels and reacts." 

"How?" I couldn't understand what she meant by that. Didn't performers just try their best and hope the audience loved them for it?

Dalia finally turned her attention to me and I suddenly felt self conscious, like I was the one on stage. She sauntered up to me and then jumped on her bed making me lose my balance. We giggled and then lay side by side, staring up at the plain plaster ceiling above our heads. 

"It's easy. Pretend you have a secret, a secret everyone else is dying to know. You tease them, lead them on but in the end the secret is still yours and they will never know. Trust me it will drive the audience crazy." 

"Wow, Unni. I've never thought about it like that." I replied in awe even though I never really understood what she meant by that. 

***

Up until today, I've always tried and tested that method of hers but the result has always been the same. No one can tell that I have a secret and no one looks like they want to know more. 

I really don't know how she did it. But I try my best to exude that aura of mystery on stage as I perform. The nerves are a constant threat that buzz at the tips of my fingers and toes but I try my best to keep them at bay by focusing on my next line or step. 

By the time the dance number is over I feel like a huge brick has been lifted off my chest. I did it. I performed without a single mistake. Once all the performances are over the fifteen of us take the stage again and wait for Mr. Yang's critiques. 

His eyebrows are bunched together as he focuses on the papers in his hands, most likely notes and scores of our performances. Now those are secrets I would kill to see. 

When he turns his attention to us, his gaze is pensive. Maybe a bit disappointed? 

Then without warning he fires out his opinions like bullets. There's no where to take cover, one by one he shoots us down and I see Grace wipe her eyes subtly from the corner of my eye. 

"Grace, you made such an obvious mistake. Your pitch was off in the second half, keep this up and you will never be able to perform again." 

"Rachel, you were off beat during the dance. I expected better." 

"JinJin, you were good but you are too comfortable it's boring. I want more." 

"Binna, dance is great as usual but your singing is sub par. I don't know if you are ready." 

I want to squeeze my friends hand for that painful assessment but then it's my turn as the shooting target and I nearly recoil on impact. 

"Jina," Mr. Yang sighs and a small part of me curls up and dies inside. "Jina, you executed every note, every move so precisely. Everything was according to beat but when I look at you I feel nothing. No emotion, no character. I can literally see you thinking about your next step." 

I bite my lip and nod, taking his criticism in stride even though inside I am crying and howling like a little girl. Every time someone says I can't emote I draw a blank because I don't know what I am doing wrong. 

I stare at Mr. Yang as he beats down all the other girls like bowling pins, no one escapes his assessment. 

If I could I would strangle all the answers out of his head. Show me how to emote, show me character and I will replicate it. 

"Nevertheless I saw some potential and promise today," Mr. Yang ends his speech with a sugar coated message that feels like someone attempting to place a plaster over fractured bone. "We will announce the line up for our upcoming performance by next week. Good day girls. Get some rest." 

The exec's leave the room with Viva in tow but I catch Jiho staring at me in concern before he leaves. The rest of us walk down the stage, all beat down and crest fallen but anxious about the results. 

At least if we have a chance to perform again, we'd have a chance to redeem ourselves. No one is in the mood to talk and some girls are wiping the tears off their faces now that no one can judge them for crying. 

"I don't think I can sleep till I know who's been chosen," Binna says solemnly from my side. 

"Yeah, especially after over sleeping today," I give her a look and she smiles reluctantly. We exit the lifts and walk into the lobby which is crowded at this time of day. Other younger trainees rush around and a few people in suits gather by the waiting area. I don't recognise any of them.

"Jina!" Our manager calls from the reception desk and I do a once over, wondering if it is really him. He is wearing a loose Balenciaga shirt over light blue ripped baggy jeans and I notice a chain hanging over one hip. 

Is he going for a concert or something? 

He leans over the counter and I see it's smooth edge dig into his stomach which must be painful but Mr. Oh doesn't notice. He's too busy chatting up the girl behind reception while he holds a stack of mail in one hand.

"I took the liberty of picking up your mail. There are some real die hard fans out there, huh? All you did was make an appearance and they're still writing to you." He barely looks at me as he holds out the letters in my direction. 

For a few minutes, all my previous worries evaporate into the air conditioned air around us and my eyes focus like lasers on his hand. 

I take it from him and begin to look through them like a child sorting out Christmas presents.  Binna stands next to me patiently and Mr. Oh goes back to chatting up the pretty receptionist. 

"Wow, that's nice," She points out the one I am looking for and my fingers grip its edges possessively. 

Sure enough, my anonymous friend has out done themselves once again. Pink and dark purple crystal stickers have been cut out into jagged pieces and pasted around the entire envelope. 

Anyone else would think the design is unique and that this person had way too much time on their hands. 

A Dalia fan would know this exact design had been the backdrop in their second hit music video, the one about killing the darker half of yourself to be free. 

"Yeah, honestly some people have no life. That's handmade. Imagine using up time and energy like that just for a card." Mr. Oh stands tall and pushes his shoulders back as he mocks the envelope, clearly trying to impress the girl behind the counter, who is staring at us curiously. 

"Thank you, Mr. Oh!" I hug my mail to my chest happily earning a sarcastic grunt from him and the two of us head outside. 

The day is half over and there are no practices for us because the trainers have gathered to discuss our evaluation results. Usually I would be restless and unable to sit still about that fact but right now all I can think of is hurrying home to read my next message from anonymous. 

I expect everyone to be resting or sleeping when we reach the trainee dorms. Sadly, we are met with a living room filled with angry and exhausted girls. 

There's a bucket of soju lying on the middle of the floor and some ramen noodles that have been divided into small tiny bowls. Some girls have already started drinking and eating.

"Finally you two are back. We're about to have a post mortem of today," JinJin says like we are the best of friends and she can't live another minute without us. "Come and join. Courtesy of my uncle and his close friend Mr. W, you know one of our execs." 

I stare at the drinks and then her sweet smiling face. Clearly this must be a joke. 

"We're not allowed to drink, right? And our diet?" I just have to ask. 

JinJin sighs. "Oh, Jina always the buzzkill. It's not stated anywhere in our contracts that we can't drink. Only date, drive and live an actual life. And the diet can start tomorrow. After all isn't Yiren your bestie? I'm sure she can hide it if you gained a pound."

My insides start churning with the usual dislike I have for this girl but Binna sits down and joins them. 

The girls welcome Binna like they usually do and I suddenly realise that I might be the one JinJin's group truly despises and the sabotage might have been just for me with Binna as collateral. Somehow that makes me feel even worse because she's only friend I have here.

"Sounds good," Binna replies and then she nods at me to do the same, her gaze urgent. I can literally read her mind because she's always told me to try to be nicer to JinJin just so our trainee life could be easier. 

"Okay, let me just put these away and I'll be right back." I hurry to my room, eager to keep my mail away from prying eyes. 

I figure the girls must have forgotten about me by now, you know out of sight out of mind kind of thing so I quickly open the heavily decorated envelope. Sure enough there is a sweet, very generic message in the note and a noticeable bulge at the top left corner. 

I rip through the card and pull out the small folded piece of paper. 

Dalia, didn't kill herself. She was murdered. Trust me I have proof. Don't believe me? I'll show you. 

9.00pm Gangbyeon Pocha Street No 15. 

(Also please burn this note after reading for our peace of mind. Thank you and see you then)

I stare at the small minuscule words for a few seconds, reading and then re-reading for confirmation. After the fifth time I conclude that it isn't blank and what I am reading is real. 

Anonymous wants to meet and they claim to have proof! I can't believe my eyes even though I know I shouldn't be in over my head. For all I know this could be a fluke but still my fingers shake and my curiosity has been peaked. 

I read the bottom of the note again and a nervous prickle slowly crawls up the back of my neck. Anonymous told me to burn the note after reading. Did they know that I kept the others for longer than necessary?

I brush off the thought and head outside to join the girls before anyone gets suspicious, not before flushing it down the toilet. 

Glancing at the clock, I realise I have two hours to meet anonymous and I don't care that this is the craziest thing I have ever done before. 

The truth is I want to do it, not only for Dalia but for me. 

JinJin looks satisfied when I sit down next to Binna and I join in when necessary as they discuss today's events but really my mind is a galaxy away. All I can think of is my supposed meet up at the relatively safe location given to me by anonymous. 

What could I lose by meeting them? I can't think of anything except maybe some disappointment if it turns out to be a prank but not going would be so much worse. 

I take a sip of lychee flavoured soju and try to come up with an excuse so I can leave soon.

By some miracle my prayers are answered and the girls decide to go out to some nearby bar that serves smoked barbecue and beer. 

"Don't worry. My uncle has given us a free pass for today." JinJin announces with a wide smile and pink stained cheeks. I think she might be a bit drunk and I like the way she thinks her uncle owns the company. 

"You girls go ahead. My sister is coming over and I was thinking of taking her to the night market," I say the excuse that I have been practicing in my head for the past half hour. Thankfully, it comes out smoothly.

Binna looks at me in disappointment. "You really can't come?"

"I'm so sorry. I completely forgot about it and she's been planning this for weeks." It feels wrong to use my ten year old sister like this but I'm kind of desperate. 

"Forget her, Binna. She's too good for us non famous folk," Grace chides, her voice more bitter than usual. 

I squeeze Binna's arm but she just looks annoyed. 

"I'm sorry I didn't mention it earlier," I say to her while we are in our room getting ready. 

Binna ignores me and I can tell she is mad. She then turns to me and puts her hands on her hips. "I really wish you would just make more of an effort with them. You know she holds some power here. There's no harm in playing nice just so we don't get burned."

"She altered our clock just so we wouldn't get up this morning. I'm not missing anything by hanging out with her," I answer defensively. 

"Which is why we shouldn't be pissing her off all the time." Binna justifies. "I really think you should get involved more. Maybe then she wouldn't target us all the time." 

There it is. The truth I've been trying to ignore. JinJin doesn't hate Binna, at least not as much as she hates me. 

I run a hand through my hair, feeling frustrated and helpless. "Fine. Fine. I'll start grovelling tomorrow."

The girls call out for her and Binna leaves the room without looking at me. Her outburst surprised me and honestly I feel kind of angry right now. 

I grab my scarf and head out as well, hoping that anonymous turns out to be real because this day could really use some silver lining.