Chapter 1: Ante Up...Everything Off

As the small crowd disperses, I leaned in towards Rosé.

"What do you think all this is about?" I asked, as the soldiers lead us into the limo, taking us to god knows where.

"Look." Rosé waved her phone in my face, arching an eyebrow. On her device, there's an article explaining a contest. I skimmed through it while she spoke.

"The tests were required to be equally spread out in the case that there was a wider chance to find the most likely candidate for this project. Since we were in the rural part, they must've assumed that we were never going to win, so they didn't even bother to tell us the entire gist. The winners get a four-year contract with a Korean music company and to be involved in some sort of UN development."

I exhaled heavily. So that was what the a YG was. But no, the chances of supposedly peasant girls winning a nationwide distributed political test was dubious, so it was plausible a peacekeeper did underestimate our abilities.

"Why do you think they offered an artist contract though? To appeal to the masses more?" I proposed, handing her phone back.

"That, and to improve Korean-Thailand diplomatic relations," Rosé theorized, now speaking faster. "Think about it-- fragile Thailand offers its best up and SK offers to make use of them after such a crisis as the coup d'état. It looks good on part of the company moreover, as they are basically doing charity." Rosé opened to say more, but the car jerked, swinging her into the other seat.

Who the hell was driving this car? They were all over the place, and basically speeding. Where did we have to go so bad?

I knocked on the partition, and the guy in the passenger seat turned, and rolled it down.

"What?" He asked rudely, taking me aback. Was this winner's treatment? Wow, I'd like a refund.

"Where are we going?" Rosé whined.

"Press conference. Just follow the flow and you'll be fine, you passed the rest for a reason," he added after our looks of shock. He rolled the partition back up.

"What an ," Rosé said sourly.

"What a half assed contest," I replied. "Why would they host a press conference right after the test? No training or nothing."

Rosé nodded in agreement, then looked in the cup holders and around. Probably for snacks. It had been half the day since we had last eaten.

I offered a chocolate that was in a bag right next to me, and Rosé groaned in protest, but took it nonetheless. "There goes my 22-inch waist!" She complained.

"I don't think that's how weigh gain works," I said with a roll of my eyes, casting a look out the window. It was pointless, considering that all the windows were tinted black. Whoever in the junta must've not wanted us to be seen. But why? No doubt it'd be ed though.

Yelling and cheering was getting more and more audible, surrounding us even. We must've been close to where ever this press conference was.

I was correct, the limo pulled into a stop. We were escorted out and immediately to a podium on a large platform. There waiting for was a tall, skinny, and stunning woman. She had black eyes, black hair, and a cunning smile. She oozed authority and poise, her dress suit and red bottoms probably racking up to triple my entire shack of a home and inheritance.

"...It's a wonderful chance to improve relations within the East. I'm so glad to be at the forefront of a new democratic revolution, with this fledgling generation." She bowed, and the crowd roared. The speaker leads her away from the mic, and I didn't miss the look the woman gave him.

"Thank you! That was Miss Kim Jisoo, South Korean UN ambassador and YG trainee, and