[EMY]
I thought nothing could ever compare to the heartbreak of losing Eric. That was my rock bottom, my worst nightmare, my soul being ripped apart.
But, oh boy, was I wrong.
Because not winning the contest? That was heartbreak number two.
Seriously—how could I not win with that banger of a song?
The lyrics, the composition—chef's kiss!
It was flawless!
A masterpiece!
A divine creation that could've made even rocks weep!
But apparently, without the right voice to sing it, nobody cared. Or maybe it was because of what I overheard earlier—that the whole contest was just a formality and the winner had already been chosen.
Rigged. Completely rigged.
I sat there in my chair, frozen, as I watched the staff of Star Entertainment practically fall over themselves congratulating the winner. She was beautiful, of course—because why not rub extra salt in my wound?
Around her twenties, cascading purple curls, violet eyes that sparkled like gemstones, and a smile so radiant it could probably power a whole city.
And, naturally, she had "angelic charm." Ugh.
"I hear she's the daughter of one of the higher-ups."
My head snapped sideways. Two contestants beside me were whispering bitterly.
"Yeah, this contest is rigged."
"I should've known. Even Star Entertainment isn't fair."
"They already had connections. What chance did we ordinary folks have?"
"Unless, of course, you manage to seduce one of the producers . . ."
Excuse me?!
Before I could roll my eyes into another dimension, I found myself walking out of the building in a daze.
I hadn't even entertained the idea of failing. I was so sure of my win, so absolutely certain I'd walk out with a contract in hand, that now—standing outside with nothing—I felt like my entire existence had been dropkicked into a trash can.
Now what?
"NOW WHAT?!"
I clutched my hair dramatically and screamed at the heavens like a rejected extra in a K-drama. I didn't care if passersby thought I was crazy. Let them! Misery loved an audience.
How would I get close to Eric now?
I wandered aimlessly through the city, head completely blank, stomach hollow, dreams shattered into confetti. By the time I blinked back into reality, it was already dark.
My steps stopped in front of a bar, neon lights flickering like they were mocking me.
"Maybe those girls were right," I muttered, glaring at the sign. "The fastest way into the entertainment industry is to . . . sell myself?"
I slapped my own cheek so hard my ancestors probably felt it.
"Heh. Emy, are you alright in the head? Have you even looked in a mirror? Not even a lonely old geezer would accept you."
I laughed bitterly. Pathetic. Desperate. But when dreams were slipping through your fingers like sand, your brain whispered the dumbest solutions.
That's when it happened.
A voice soared across the street from a massive billboard. I froze. My heart skipped a beat. The noise of the city dulled until it was just her.
The diva. The legend. The goddess herself.
V.V.
Her voice rang out—clear, powerful, and filled with emotion that could slice through your chest and squeeze your heart.
She was in her mid-twenties, already at the top of the music industry. A soloist who could sell out entire stadiums with just one announcement.
Beside AUREA, she was my second favorite artist. And seeing her face plastered on that billboard felt like fate slapping me and saying, "Stand up, idiot."
"V.V really is beautiful and perfect," I whispered, eyes turning into hearts.
She was singing my favorite song—one that had carried me through sleepless nights, through acne and breakdowns, through the days when I didn't even want to face the mirror.
And just as I stood there, half-crying, half-laughing at my misery, her voice belted the line that cut straight into my soul:
"Even when the world says no, you write your own yes."
I swear, I almost choked.
Was . . . was the universe using V.V's voice to talk directly to me? Because wow, rude. I wasn't ready for this emotional jump-scare.
I clutched my chest dramatically. "V.V, you beautiful golden-haired goddess! You're right! I won't give up!" I pointed at the billboard like a maniac. "The world may stomp me, crush me, break me—but I'll crawl, roll, and drag myself until I reach the top!"
People stared. Someone pulled out their phone to record me. A dog barked in agreement. But I didn't care.
For the first time since losing, I felt my fire light back up.
If Star Entertainment didn't want me, fine. If the contest was rigged, fine. But I wasn't giving up. Because one heartbreak already nearly destroyed me, and I refused to let another one keep me down.
I wiped my tears with the back of my hand, grinned like a lunatic, and declared to the night sky:
"Just you wait, Eric. Just you wait, world. I'll rise again—fiercer, brighter, and moisturized to perfection! Ahahahaha!"