Chapter 1

Aisha Kim

My name is Kim Aisha. I'd rather be called Aisha. My nickname, which was given to me a month ago by many entertainment agencies, is "Silence."

The reason?

Because I can't speak.

I communicate through my dancing and sign language. I imagine that if I could speak, I'd be fluent in Korean as well as English. Those companies didn't seem to mind, though. They loved my performance and my clever use of wearing a mask for an aura of mystery. Naturally they tried to coax me to take it off, but I can't. I'd be excluded in an instant. Immediately branded something I'm not.

I gained my popularity through YouTube. I was the little masked dancer that took simple pieces of music and gave them meaning through my dances. The dance I performed for all those people was my most famous routine on my channel. I love talking to all the people that support me. I write and read Korean and English perfectly and I'm grateful for the Internet for letting me be able to talk to everyone without actually speaking.

It's been about a month since my "audition," and I still haven't really recovered from that incident.

For one, I actually saw my bias up close and personal, which was surreal (and he smelled amazing.) and you just can't get over something like that. The way he looked at me. . . It was like I was someone important and not just some girl that took lessons as a kid and then just messed around on YouTube.

Second, Appa has been talking to a LOT of companies, and has asked my inputs (which he sometimes takes into consideration, but usually not. . . Oh well. . .) about each company. He signed me onto a company that night as a trainee, but the company said they'd send someone to tell me what I was supposed to do.

Third, if this does work out, how am I supposed to make it work when it's time for college again? The only reason I actually went to college was because I was given a fully paid way to college. I could always drop out, but I'd miss my friends I've made.

Lastly, I'm still not over the fact that I was stupid enough to wear my Umma's key on my worn out chain. She called me her Black Pearl, because I was a "rare jewel" amongst my peers. At first I thought she was making fun of me being mute, but then I realized that being silent is a virtue in sticky situations. Black pearls are more rare than actual pearls, and Umma loved them very much. She had that key engraved, it was already an heirloom already, and gave me a small music box like object (another heirloom) that the key opened. It was beautiful, and I knew that one day I'll have the courage to open that box, well before my pabo self lost it anyway.

"Aisha love, come down from your room, your manager is here." my stepmother called to me. I almost turned my ankle in my pointe shoes. I have a manager?

Oh my gosh!

This is what I've been waiting for! I wonder who Appa got for me...

I took off my pointe shoes I was practicing in and made my way down the stairs to the open first floor. I grabbed the notebook and pen that was attached to the wall like a