It was only a matter of time before news of the incident at the voice class spread around the music department. Hana was becoming used to the stares and the whispers, but this time she couldn’t shrug off the feeling of embarrassment that accompanied her wherever she went. Taehyun was nice enough to tell her that she did a good job, suggesting that Miss Kim’s behavior probably had nothing to do with her performance at all. But unless Hana actually hears that from Miss Kim, then it was only reasonable to believe that her iness had caused a teacher to walk out on a class.

To make matters worse, she had one day left before President Yang’s deadline. And while she repeatedly told herself that she wasn’t going to accept the offer to become a trainee, she couldn’t deny that nagging voice at the back of her head that told her she was turning her back on an opportunity of a lifetime. And that voice strangely resembled that of her father’s.

She looked down at the empty page on her notebook and sighed. “Where’s the rewind button when you need one?”

“What did you say?”

Kyungmi’s voice echoed in the empty library, snapping Hana out of her thoughts. “Huh? Nothing.”

Kyungmi looked unconvinced. “Are you still thinking about what happened yesterday? Stop beating yourself up over it. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.”

Yeah. I , Hana was tempted to add but instead, she smiled faintly and focused on the task at hand. Their composition instructor had asked them to write a brand new song, due the next time they meet. Hana had to admit that the thought of writing again made her a little excited, although doing it for something other than for the fun of it was slightly daunting.

Chewing on the tip of her pen, she pushed useless thoughts aside and began thinking of her subject. Is there anything you wish to write about? Mr. Byun’s words replayed in her mind. Anything… whether it’s something that happened to you lately, something you’re going through, or even someone. If it moves you to write, then go with that.

Yellow fluorescent lights. Soft, chilly breeze. The feel of the guitar in her arms. The familiar melody that filled the open space. The shyness, the thrill, aware of someone’s eyes on her and her alone.

His smile after I sang the last note.

Hana clenched the pen tighter in her hand, unable to purge the image from her mind. She knew this feeling – the exact one that Mr. Byun was pertaining to. For writers, it’s something that you can’t shake off; an itch you have to scratch or it will drive you insane. The lyrics were practically begging to be written, and Hana knew all she had to do was give in.

And yet.

“Excuse me.”

A tap on Hana’s shoulder and she nearly jumped from her seat. A boy she recognized from her dance class stood behind her, looking startled, but Kyungmi was quick to react.

“Minsoo,” she spoke. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry for bothering you, sunbae, but Miss Kim wants to see Baek Hana.”

“Eh?” Hana’s eyes grew wide. “Miss Kim wants to see me?”

The boy nodded. “Yes. She’s waiting in her office.”

Hana shot Kyungmi a look of panic. “I really don’t like it when this happens. The last time someone summoned me, I ended up transferring to the music department.”

“I don’t know about you, but to me, that was a good thing,” Kyungmi smiled. “Go. You can’t keep Miss Kim waiting.”

Hana was already resigned to the prospect of the worst possible critique when she arrived at Miss Kim’s office. Her door was left open, as though inviting Hana in to her worst nightmare. The whiteness of her office was stark and cold, much like the character the music majors have created for her, and rightfully so. Ice Queen.

After a peek, she realized that Miss Kim wasn’t in her seat, adding to the emptiness of the space. Eerie. Taking one hesitant step inside, Hana tried to calm down her nerves. If she was going to get cold, bitter truth served, then she should be able to take it. At least she wasn’t in front of the music majors, so that was a definite plus.

She waited by the doorway, fiddling with her hands in anxiety. She had twenty minutes until the end of free period and she’s due at the diner.

Not a minute later, did Miss Kim emerge from what looked like her personal pantry and Hana immediately stiffened as soon as their eyes met. She detected the hint of surprise on Miss Kim’s eyes before it dissipated, and she was once again the beautiful, blank canvas that she was yesterday.

“Miss Baek. Thanks for coming,” she began to say, taking a seat behind her desk. She gestured for Hana to do the same, and quietly, she complied.

Wearing a sleek black dress, and pearls that lined her delicate neck, Miss Kim was a sight to behold against the backdrop of her office. It was unnerving to be in her presence, like Hana being there somehow dirtied the pretty picture. She bowed and kept her head low once she sat down.

Let’s get this over with, she chanted in her head and tried to relax a little.

Hana waited for Miss Kim to speak, but there was only silence. After what seemed like a long time, Hana finally raised her head for a glance and was taken aback to see Miss Kim looking straight at her with an expression she didn’t quite expect. It was as though the woman was trying to figure her out somehow, her brows knitted and her eyes too piercing for comfort. There was something else there, too, but Hana couldn’t be sure what it was.

“You… you wanted to talk to me?” Hana squeaked, the sound of her own voice unsettling in the room.

“Yes,” Miss Kim replied curtly and shifted in her seat so she was even more regal-looking than a second ago. “I heard that President Yang wants you in YG and you have yet to respond.”

Hana kept a straight face. This wasn’t the topic she thought Miss Kim would begin with. “Y-yes. I have until tomorrow.”

“And have you decided?”

Hana in her lower lip as she averted her gaze. “I haven’t.”

“What… do, hmm, what do your parents think?”

“Uhh. I’m an orphan,” Hana mumbled under her breath it was almost a whisper. It was the first time she was admitting it to anyone in Seoul and it was still strange to say it. It caused a sting in her chest, too. The room became so silent that she heard Miss Kim’s soft sigh. Hana was glad she didn’t say sorry though. She hated it when people do that, as if it were their fault that her father died.

“You have a beautiful voice.”

Hana blinked twice before raising her head to level at the Ice Queen. Did she hear that right? Was that softness that she heard in her voice? Did she just say…

“It’s beautiful, but it needs work,” the woman continued, more firmly. “You have the kind of raw voice that makes people want to sing along. It makes people want to hear more, to listen to the words you’re singing. I understand why President Yang wants you here. I can hear it, too.”

Hana’s jaw slacked, unable to hide her surprise at Miss Kim’s words.

“You have the instinct, but you lack technique. You don’t know how to make full use of the power of your voice, and that’s something you can’t achieve alone. If you don’t tap into the right tools, you’ll be no better than everyone else who can carry a tune. But under my tutelage, you can be great.”

“I—I don’t—“

“What I’m saying, Miss Baek, is this place is for those who dream of standing on stage to share their voices with the rest of the world. I take music seriously; the honing of future talents, more so. And to be honest, you’re more special than most of the trainees YG has right now. But if you don’t have the desire and the drive that they do, I don’t understand why you’re in my class, intent on wasting my efforts and my time.”

Hana felt dry up, tears pooling at the pit of her stomach and making their way up slowly. She couldn’t even pinpoint if it was shame or anger she felt. She didn’t ask to be in her class, she didn’t even want to be in the music department in the first place. And yet, she ended up here, Miss Kim’s every word adding to her guilt. She didn’t know what to do or say, and she was afraid that if she stayed longer in her seat, she’d actually break down and cry like a little girl.

“Take the offer,” Miss Kim spoke, her words coming off more as a command than a suggestion. “Not many are blessed with a voice like yours and an innate talent for music like you do, even fewer get a chance like you’re being offered on a silver platter. Kids work ten times as hard just to have a quarter of what you already have, and for you, all it took was a performance at a café,” she paused, rolling her shoulders back. “This just might be what you’re meant to do, Miss Baek.”

Hana had the worst work day ever. She spent most of it dazed, spacing out while talking to customers, mixing up orders, mishandling drinks a couple of times. It took a woman nearly screaming at Hana’s face before Ha Neul pulled her aside and instructed her to man the kitchen instead, or just go home if she wasn’t feeling too well. It was the first time she saw her boss look genuinely disappointed in her so she complied without another word.

Her mind was a tangle of conversations played and replayed: with President Yang, with Secretary Cha, with Miss Kim. Then there were thoughts about her father who raised her in his world of music, her grandmother who only wanted the best for her. All the voices in her head were saying one thing, so clear and ear-splitting that she could barely hear her own tiny, indecisive voice.

What do I want?

A few minutes before clocking out, Hana had avoided any major accident in the kitchen and decided to pay Ha Neul a visit in his office for an overdue apology. He didn’t seem angry, but he did hold her up to the promise (that he cornered her into making) that she was going to sing for Music Night tomorrow. After her horrible work performance today, she didn’t feel the need to protest anymore and just took it with a resigned nod. It was another thing to worry about on top of the chaos, but hey, when was her life ever simple since she stepped into Seoul?

Things took a turn for the interesting as soon as she exited the café through the backdoor and saw a tall guy with his back turned to her, standing near the pavement, hands shoved inside his pockets, looking like he’d been waiting for a while. Hana paused, pondering the possibility of Kang Seungyoon waiting for her yet again. Maybe he wants to hear another song? But the absence of the usual guitar case slung over his shoulder made her conclude that it probably wasn’t the case.

For a moment, she considered just slipping out – it’s possible he wasn’t there for her anyway – but decided that a little greeting wouldn’t hurt. So she quietly approached him and tapped on his shoulder.

Hana wasn’t prepared for the smile Seungyoon offered when he whipped around. She felt something twist in her stomach and looked away almost instantly.

“What are you doing here? Came to see the boss?” She asked, looking everywhere except Seungyoon’s way.

“No, I came to see you, actually.”

Stomach, behave. “You... want me to sing again?”

Seungyoon shook his head. “I heard about Miss Kim talking to you and I wanted to, uhh, ask if… if you’re okay,” he explained, and Hana heard the hint of concern in his voice. When she lifted her face to look at him, Seungyoon still had traces of the smile from earlier. “But I’m open to singing, too.”

Despite herself, Hana broke into an almost-smile.  “No singing. I’ve developed a trauma after singing in class,” she joked, but Seungyoon’s expression change