The silence was worse than the hate.
No trending hashtags.
No viral clips.
No articles arguing over whether OG had "lost it" or not.
Just nothing.
Their schedules thinned until entire days passed without a single call from the company. The practice room, once alive with music and laughter, echoed with the sound of their own footsteps.
Yuki slammed her phone onto the floor one afternoon. "We didn't even chart."
Hana flinched. "Yuki—"
"Three comebacks," Yuki continued, her voice shaking, "three chances, and the world just… moved on."
Kairi stared at her reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing herself. "Maybe we're the problem."
The words hung in the air, heavy and unforgiving.
Sakura finally spoke. "Don't say that."
But even she didn't sound convinced.
The company meeting came a week later. The room was cold, the smiles forced.
"We need to reconsider OG's direction," one executive said carefully. "The market is changing."
Aiko's fingers curled into her sleeves. "So… what does that mean?"
"It means," the man replied, "we'll be reducing promotions for now."
Reducing.
Not stopping—but close enough.
That night, back at the dorm, Hana cried quietly in the bathroom. Yuki practiced until her legs gave out. Kairi lay on her bed, scrolling through old comments from fans who no longer existed.
Sakura sat at the table, staring at nothing.
Aiko watched them all and felt something twist painfully in her chest.
If this keeps going, she thought, we'll disappear.
The next months tested them in ways fame never had.
They performed at small events now—half-filled halls, polite applause. Some people didn't even recognize them at first.
"Aren't they… that group from before?" someone whispered once.
Sakura heard it.
She smiled anyway.
After one performance, the five of them sat on the stage floor, legs dangling over the edge.
"Do you remember our first win?" Hana asked softly.
Yuki laughed bitterly. "I thought it would never end."
Kairi hugged her knees. "I just don't want us to end."
Aiko looked at Sakura, searching her face. "What do we do if they give up on us?"
Sakura was quiet for a long moment.
"Then we don't give up on each other," she said finally.
They joined hands—not for the cameras, not for fans—but for themselves.
Outside, the industry kept moving. New faces replaced old ones. OG's name faded from headlines, from playlists, from conversations.
But inside that small circle, something stubborn remained.
Exhaustion.
Fear.
And a fragile hope they refused to let die.
Because even as the world turned its back, OG was still standing.
Barely.
And somewhere far away, unseen eyes were watching—waiting for the moment when desperation would make the impossible… possible.