The air in the third-floor dance studio was cold. It was a sterile, white room lined with mirrors on one wall and a large window overlooking the city on the other. It was a room where dreams were born or brutally murdered.
Director Park was already there, arms crossed, his face a mask of impatience. The company's lead dance instructor stood beside him, clipboard in hand. Along the wall, a dozen other trainees stood in a neat line, their faces pale with anxiety. They tried not to stare at the girl in the center of the room.
As Yoo-jin walked in, his new vision was on fire. He glanced down the line of trainees, and the blue screens followed his gaze.
A B-Rank potential here, a future main dancer for a mid-tier group. A solid C-Rank there, destined for backup roles. Good, but not great. They were the kind of idols Starforce Entertainment specialized in producing: profitable, but forgettable.
Then his eyes landed on the girl in the center of the room. The one they were about to cut.
His breath caught in his throat.
The stat screen that floated above her head was different. It wasn't the calm, clinical blue of the others. It was a brilliant, pulsating gold, so bright it almost hurt to look at.
[Name: Choi Mina]
[Potential: SSS-Rank (Legendary Icon)]
[Talent: Vocal (S+), Dance (S), Visuals (A+)]
[Charm: B (Suppressed)]
[Current Status: Crippling self-doubt. Anxiety at 98%. On the verge of being cut.]
Yoo-jin felt a jolt, like he'd touched a live wire. SSS-Rank. A 'Legendary Icon'. He'd never even imagined such a rating could exist. This girl, Choi Mina, had the potential to be a once-in-a-generation star, the kind of artist who defines an era.
And she was standing there trembling, her head bowed, a single perfect tear tracing a path down her cheek under the unforgiving glare of the studio lights. A legend in the making. And they were treating her like garbage.
"You froze! Again!" the dance instructor's voice was sharp enough to cut glass. "The monthly evaluation is your most basic test, and you just stood there! Do you know how much you embarrassed the company?"
Choi Mina flinched, curling in on herself as if trying to disappear. She couldn't even lift her head to face them.
Director Park stepped forward, his expression cold. He didn't even bother to raise his voice. "That's enough. I've seen all I need to see. We're cutting our losses."
He turned his dismissive gaze on Mina. "Choi Mina, you're done here. Pack your bags."
The words landed like a death sentence. Mina's face went completely white. Her shoulders started to shake, and a small, choked sob escaped her lips.
The old Yoo-jin would have just pulled out the termination contract from his bag. He would have stood silently by, another faceless executioner in a long line of them.
But the old Yoo-jin was gone. The new Yoo-jin, the one who saw that radiant, golden SSS-Rank, couldn't stay silent. A white-hot, protective anger surged through him. He was watching them throw away a priceless treasure because they were too blind to see its worth.
A voice cut through the tense silence.
"Please wait, Director."
It was his own voice. Everyone in the room turned to stare at him. The other trainees' eyes widened in shock. The invisible assistant manager, the guy who fetched coffee and filed papers, was speaking up.
Director Park slowly turned, an ugly scowl twisting his features. He looked at Yoo-jin like he was a piece of gum on his shoe.
"What did you say?"
Yoo-jin took a deep breath, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. His mind was racing. He couldn't tell them about the screen. He had to speak their language. The language of assets and investments.
"Her fundamentals are perfect, sir," Yoo-jin said, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. "I've seen her practice files. Her technique is flawless. This isn't a lack of talent, it's stage fright. It can be coached."
Director Park let out a short, derisive laugh. "Coached? We've wasted a year trying to 'coach' her. Who's going to fix her? You?"
The contempt in his voice was thick. But it was also an opening.
Yoo-jin met his gaze directly. "Yes. Me."
The audacity of it silenced the room.
"Give me one month," Yoo-jin pressed on, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "Let me take full responsibility for her. If she fails the next monthly evaluation, I'll handle her dismissal personally. You won't have to lift a finger."
Director Park stared at him, his initial anger replaced by a cruel, calculating amusement. He saw an opportunity. Not to save a trainee, but to finally get rid of the quiet, observant assistant manager he'd always disliked.
"Fine," Park said, a smirk spreading across his face. "One month. But let's make this interesting. If she fails…"
He paused for dramatic effect.
"You resign. And you'll pay the penalty fee for her broken trainee contract out of your own pocket."
A wave of ice-cold terror washed over Yoo-jin. The penalty fee was millions of Won. It was a debt that would bury him, a black mark that would follow him for the rest of his life in this industry. It was financial suicide.
He risked a glance at Mina. She was staring at him now, her wide, tear-filled eyes a mix of shock and utter confusion. Behind her terrified face, he could still see it. The shimmering, golden letters. SSS-Rank.
This wasn't just a gamble. It was the only bet worth making.
The terror in his chest was replaced by a strange, exhilarating calm. This was it. The moment his life truly began.
"I accept," Yoo-jin said.
Director Park sneered, gave a curt nod, and swept out of the room. The instructor and the other trainees followed, shooting Yoo-jin looks of pity and disgust. The door clicked shut.
The vast practice room felt like a stage after the play had ended. The silence was deafening.
It was just him and Mina now. She was still standing in the middle of the floor, looking impossibly small and lost. The mirror reflected the two of them—the discarded trainee and the nobody manager who had just signed his own death warrant for her.
She finally looked up, her voice a fragile whisper that barely carried across the room.
"Why…?"
Her eyes searched his, desperate for an answer. "I'm a failure. Everyone knows it. Why would you do that for me?"
Yoo-jin looked past her tear-stained face, past the fear and the self-doubt. He looked at the impossible, brilliant potential that only he could see. He gave her the first real, confident smile of his entire life.
"Because I'm going to make you a star."