JYP Apartment - 10:30 PM
The front door clicked shut behind her.
Y/n didn't bother turning on the lights. She didn't even take off her hoodie. Just kicked her shoes off halfway down the hallway and let her bag hit the floor with a soft thud.
Straight to her room. Straight to her bed.
Face-first. No energy. No hope.
Another day, another rejection. This one from YG. Again.
She wasn't even surprised anymore. Just... numb. At this point, she could probably recite their rejection emails word for word. "We appreciate your effort, but..." "Unfortunately, at this time..."
Whatever.
Her body felt like lead. Her chest felt worse.
She wanted to scream. Or disappear. Or sleep for a year.
Instead, there was a knock.
Soft. Hesitant.
Y/n (muffled): "What?"
The door creaked open. The warm light from the hallway spilled in-and so did her father.
Of course he was still in a blazer. Of course his shirt was still perfectly tucked in. J.Y. Park-industry giant, founder of JYP Entertainment, K-pop legend, and her personal nightmare-dad when she was in a bad mood.
But right now, he didn't look like a CCO. Just a man watching his kid come undone.
JYP (gentle): "Hey. You're home early."
Y/n didn't look at him. Just laid there, face buried in her pillow like it might protect her from everything she didn't want to hear.
Y/n: "Didn't make it past round two."
He stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind him.
JYP: "I'm sorry."
Y/n (dry): "Don't be. I'm used to it."
JYP: "You don't have to keep putting yourself through this, you know."
Y/n: "I want it. Even if it's killing me, I still want it."
Her voice cracked at the end. She hated that.
Y/n: "But maybe... I'm just not good enough. I mean, if HYBE, YG, SM-if everyone says no, maybe they're not the problem. Maybe I am."
He frowned.
JYP: "Or maybe you're just not meant to fit into the mold they want."
Y/n (bitter laugh): "I don't want to fit into a mold. I just want a chance. A real one."
Silence.
She rolled over slowly, finally letting her eyes meet his.
Y/n: "What's the point of chasing something that doesn't want me back?"
He sighed. Not the exasperated kind. The helpless kind.
JYP: "You're talented."
Y/n: "So are a hundred other girls. I guess I'm just not the right type."
Silence.
He sat at the edge of the bed, hands folded, eyes watching her like she might shatter if he blinked too fast.
For a while, he didn't say anything.
Just sat there.
Typical.
The man could give a whole lecture with one sigh and a perfectly arched brow.
She could feel it coming. That thing he always did-circling his point like a shark instead of just saying it.
JYP: "You know... there's something poetic about stubbornness. Especially when it runs in the family."
Y/n: "Here we go."
JYP: "Other kids your age would've taken the easy route. Cashed in the last name, coasted on connections. But you? No. You'd rather get rejected by every major label in Seoul than use the door that's already open."
She groaned, dragging a pillow over her face.
Y/n (muffled): "Can you not? I'm tired and emotionally bankrupt."
JYP (mock sympathy): "Aw. So tragic. And here I thought you were invincible."
Y/n: "What do you want, Appa?"
He shrugged like it was casual, but she saw that glint in his eye. The one that meant trap ahead.
JYP: "Just saying. At this point, you've auditioned for everyone but me. Almost impressive, if it weren't so ridiculous."
Y/n sat up slowly, glaring.
Y/n: "We talked about this."
He held up both hands, like whoa there, drama queen, but his smirk was betraying him.
JYP: "No, you talked. I listened. I respected it. I didn't offer you a spot. I didn't pull strings. I didn't even say 'hey, wanna maybe not light yourself on fire for validation?' Not once."
Y/n: "Because I asked you not to."
He nodded, real quiet.
JYP: "And I kept my end. You said you wanted to make it on your own. So I stepped back. I didn't tell anyone who you were. Didn't let the staff talk. Hell, half the company doesn't even know you exist."
She blinked. Okay, maybe that part stung a little.
JYP (soft): "I'm not your dad when it comes to this industry. That's what you wanted, right?"
Y/n didn't answer.
Because yeah, it was what she wanted.
No shortcuts. No pity. No nepotism headlines.
She just wanted to be good enough.
But right now, she felt like nothing was enough.
And of course, her dad picked this moment to circle back.
JYP (lightly): "You know... if you're done getting rejected by strangers, I hear there's an opening at my company."
Y/n (flat): "Wow. Subtle."
JYP (grinning): "Right? I'm really evolving."
She narrowed her eyes.
Y/n: "No."
JYP: "No?"
Y/n: "Absolutely not. I'd rather get eliminated from Starship than hear people say I got in because of you."
JYP: "Even if they don't know?"
That shut her up.
Y/n: "...What?"
JYP: "You audition. Just like everyone else. No name. No ties. You pass, you stay. You fail, it ends there. No one ever finds out."
She stared at him.
Was he actually being serious? Like... serious serious?
JYP (shrugging): "You want to earn it? Here's your shot. But if you take it-really take it-there's no special treatment. No soft landings. You're just another trainee."
Y/n (quiet): "...And if I fail?"
JYP: "Then that's the end of it."
Silence.
Then-
Y/n: "You really weren't gonna tell me unless I hit rock bottom, huh?"
JYP (shrugging): "You climbed out on your own. I'm just giving you a ladder."
She exhaled, long and slow.
Y/n: "...When's the audition?"
JYP: "Next Sunday. Morning. You'll be with the rest."
Of course he already planned it.
She laid back down with a groan, covering her face with both hands.
This was insane.
But saying no would haunt her worse than any rejection.
Y/n (muttering): "Okay. I'll do it."
This was probably the dumbest thing she'd ever agreed to.
He stood up, but before he could leave, she reached out and grabbed his wrist.
Y/n: "You can't treat me like your daughter in this. Not even once."
JYP: "You're not my daughter," he said without flinching. "You're just another trainee."
And just like that, he walked out.
She sat there in the quiet dark, mind spinning, heart unsure.
She had no idea what she'd just signed up for.
But for the first time in a long time...
She didn't feel lost.
---
Later that night
She couldn't sleep.
Not because she wasn't tired-she was exhausted.
But her brain refused to shut up.
She'd opened her notebook, just to scribble down one lyric idea, and suddenly it was 3 a.m. and she had seven half-verses, four conflicting melodies, and no chorus.
Then came the spiraling.
What even was her sound?
Too many songs felt like someone else's voice. Too clean, too polished, too boring. She wanted something real. Raw. But would that even survive an audition room?
What if she messed up again?
What if she actually made it in and everyone whispered about how she only got through because of her last name?
Or worse-what if she didn't?
The industry was a black hole. She'd seen it up close her whole life. Debuts, disbandments, burnout in eyeliner. Everyone looked shiny on stage and hollow off it.
She'd chosen this. Voluntarily. What was wrong with her?
At some point, she realized her foot had fallen asleep from sitting too long on the floor. Her neck ached. Her notebook was a warzone of scratched-out lines.
She tried closing her eyes.
Didn't work.
Her thoughts just played louder in the dark.
By morning, the rush of it all had worn off, and reality came back with a vengeance. School still existed. So did overdue homework and a test she forgot to study for.
One big decision didn't pause the rest of her life.
At school, she barely registered anything past her name on the attendance sheet. Her brain was still stuck on what she'd agreed to.
By the time the final bell rang, she was running on instinct-just moving, not thinking.
Her bag felt like it weighed ten kilos. Her feet hurt. Her brain hurt worse.
Still, the walk home helped. It always did.
Same route. Same sidewalk. Same traffic noise. Same bakery with the cute dog in the window. Same vending machine that always ate her coins.
Then-
A light shoulder bump. Barely noticeable.
Someone's shoulder clipped hers. Not hard. Just enough to jolt her out of her daze.
Y/n: "Ah-sorry."
She muttered automatically without looking.
But her eyes flicked up anyway. Reflex.
Someone passed her.
No-three someones.
One in front. Two trailing behind.
She wouldn't have looked twice-just more boys in hoodies, faces half-hidden under caps-except...
The first one had a laptop tucked under his arm.
Left hand holding it close, like it was more valuable than gold. The lid was covered in odd little stickers and strange hardware-maybe some kind of DIY audio mod or cooling attachment. Not aesthetic. Functional. It looked... custom. Personal. She could tell. Something about it screamed music. Or maybe tech. Or both.
The two behind him were talking in low voices.
Just passersby.
Just strangers.
Just a passing moment.
Nothing important.
Right?
But for some reason... she turned her head. Watched them for half a second longer than she meant to.
Weird.
She shook it off and kept walking.
There were more important things to think about.
Her audition was in one week. One. Week.
She needed to pick the right song. Something original, something strong. Rearrange the chorus. Tweak the bridge. Work on transitions. She had ideas scribbled in the back of her math notebook, but nothing finalized.
And on top of that-
Ugh. Science project.
She sighed.
Music and molecules. High notes and homework. It was going to be a long week.
But beneath all the chaos- under the tests, the song drafts, the static in her brain- was a pulse.
Something shifting.
Something new.
She didn't know what it was yet.
But she could feel it.
Like a spark in the dark.
Like the air right before the beat drops.
Like she was standing at the edge of something huge.
And for once?
She wasn't scared to jump.
To Be Continued...