A week after their Music Bank debut stage,
the excitement hadn't disappeared.
It had simply become routine.
The dorm lights came on at 5:30 a.m.
Not because anyone wanted them to.
Because schedules didn't wait for sleep.
"Wake up."
Joanne knocked gently on each bedroom door before walking toward the kitchen.
"No snoozing today."
Bella buried her face deeper into her pillow.
"...Five more minutes."
"You said that yesterday."
"And?"
"You got two."
From the other room, Mili laughed quietly while folding her blanket.
Leah had already been awake for nearly twenty minutes, stretching beside the window.
Outside, Seoul was still dark.
She always liked mornings before the city became loud.
They reminded her of Germany.
Quiet.
Cold.
Peaceful.
Her phone buzzed.
A message from her grandmother.
Did you sleep well? Don't skip breakfast.
Leah smiled unconsciously before replying.
I won't. I miss you.
A reply came almost instantly.
I miss you more. I'll watch every stage.
Leah looked at the message for a long moment before locking her phone.
Breakfast
The company nutritionist had started preparing breakfast whenever their schedules were packed.
Fresh fruit.
Rice.
Eggs.
Soup.
Enough to keep their energy up.
Bella poked at the vegetables.
"One day I'll eat pancakes again."
The nutritionist smiled.
"After promotions."
Bella sighed dramatically.
"So... never."
Susu laughed.
"I'll make you pancakes when promotions end."
Bella looked genuinely touched.
"...Really?"
"If you help wash the dishes."
"...Never mind."
The room filled with laughter.
Even Leah laughed quietly.
Not because the joke was particularly funny—
but because moments like this had become normal.
Interview Training
That afternoon, the company gathered them in a conference room.
A camera stood on a tripod facing five chairs.
"Today's lesson isn't dancing," their media coach explained.
"It's interviews."
Bella whispered,
"That sounds harder."
Leah nodded slightly.
"...I agree."
The coach smiled.
"People already know your faces."
"Now they'll want to know your personalities."
The members looked at each other.
"Let's start with an easy question."
He pointed toward Mili.
"What is your biggest strength?"
Mili hesitated.
"...Listening."
The coach smiled.
"Good. Speak with confidence."
Next was Susu.
"What inspires your singing?"
"My emotions," she answered softly.
"And the people around me."
Joanne answered questions calmly and clearly, speaking like someone already used to responsibility.
Bella's answers made the entire room laugh more than once, not because she tried to be funny, but because her honesty slipped out before she could think.
Finally—
Leah.
"What is something people misunderstand about you?"
The room became quieter.
Leah thought carefully.
"They think I'm difficult to approach."
A pause.
"They mistake quietness for arrogance."
The coach nodded.
"And are they right?"
Leah smiled faintly.
"No."
"I just... need a little longer to become comfortable."
The other members exchanged glances.
That answer described her perfectly.
A Small Surprise
After practice, their manager walked into the studio carrying several small paper bags.
"For you."
Bella looked suspicious."...Why?"
"Fan gifts."
The members blinked.
Already?
The company had checked every package carefully before bringing them in.
Letters.
Drawings.
Small handmade bracelets.
Crocheted roses.
Mili picked up a tiny keychain shaped like a camera.
Her eyes softened immediately.
Susu unfolded a handwritten letter.
It simply read:
Your voice gave me comfort during a difficult week.
She quietly folded it again, holding it close to her chest.
Joanne received a notebook with "Our Leader" written neatly across the front.
She smiled in a way only the members noticed.
Bella found a tiny pink crochet rabbit.
"...This is adorable."
Leah opened her envelope last.
Inside was a simple pencil sketch.
It was of the five of them standing together after their debut stage.
Drawn from memory.
On the back, someone had written:
You smiled at the end.
I hope you smile even more.
Leah looked at the drawing silently.
Then slipped it carefully back into the envelope.
Practice Never Stops
That evening, they returned to the dance studio.
Again.
The mirrors reflected five tired faces.
Five determined expressions.
"One more time," the choreographer called.
Nobody complained.
The music started.
This time—
they didn't dance because they were trying to debut.
They danced because they had.
And they wanted to prove they deserved to stay.
End
Late that night, as the city lights shimmered outside their dorm windows, the members sat together in comfortable silence.
No cameras.
No interviews.
No fans.
Just five girls sharing late-night fruit and talking about nothing in particular.
For the first time in weeks, success didn't feel like numbers on a screen.
It felt like this—
shared laughter,
small conversations,
letters from strangers,
and the quiet certainty that they were no longer chasing a dream.
They were living it.
🌹