JIAHAO  
YG ENTERTAINMENT
MAY 18TH 2019
Nothing quite hurts like the blunt knife of betrayal. The bitter, cold, plunging slide right through your ribs, twisting ever so deeper towards your heart.

When you’re a trainee, this is a familiar feeling. When it happens the first time, that’s when the cut is fresh and minor, just a dull swish of the blade. ‘I can overcome this. It’s just the beginning. My whole career is still to come.’ It keeps you from bailing out, keeps you from jumping away from the puncturing. But the more times it happens, the deeper the flat, blunt blade wedges until it becomes stifling - life-threatening. Breath sharpens, each gasp a piercing pain, harder to breathe, harder to move until it’s too much.

It’s all too much, a giant wave of feeling, emotions crashing dangerously against the cliff, slowly crumbling the edges to plunge deep into the dark depths.

This is how it feels to be an idol trainee.

Like you’re frantically swimming against the current towards the light on the shore, and yet, you just can’t quite make it. The life raft is right there, and you see others hop on, ripping themselves from the waters and into the safety of debut, and yet… the raft merely brushes by your fingertips, just enough out of reach...floating far, far away.

This feeling only gets worse the longer your training endures - the more times you’re picked over, watching fellow friends picked for the next debuting unit while you’re left in the dust.

It’s not nearly as sad when you’re still fresh in the company, a baby chick, just settling into training, still new to the world, still finding its footing. But once you pass the first year, into two, steadily treading towards year three…. Then it’s another story.

The news had been announced to the company earlier in the day. “A new debut unit was chosen: BLACKOUT.” Thus, an eight-member group, consisting of some of the most seasoned trainees, finally had the stamp of approval by corporate. And this news left the remaining trainees, both boys, and girls alike, in a bitter frost, cold to the bone with reality.

For this meant, the worst news possible: no one else would be debuting for a while, not while a unit was in the process of formation for promotions.

But, just like every other day, practice went on, the clock ticked, and the sun still rose in the sky...normality, a normal day. The building lit up with life, and they were expected to push on. The meaningless promise of “next time” on their trainers lips… it was always the same, and yet, this time seemed to cut deeper. At least, that’s what Mao Jiahao, a new trainee from Wenzhou, China observed from his hyungs.

He didn't even dare dream of being picked as-is for a debuting unit, so he can’t say he felt the same deflation of disappointment. There was just no way in hell he was ready and he wasn’t blind to the facts. For one, he was only fourteen, foreign, and had only trained for a grand total of just over a month ANYWHERE. Second, he had terrible pitch, bare minimum coordination, and literally no rapping ability whatsoever. it was a miracle he was here in the famous YG entertainment trainee program in the first place.

So really, Jiahao was just observing, going about his business as usual without the same weight upon his shoulders.

He was still a newbie in the program at YG, having only transferred in a little over a month ago, so he didn’t have enough time to really share the feelings written all over his fellow trainees' faces. But he had a pretty good idea about it all because well, he wasn’t an idiot.

Jiahao was an introverted observer, and the other boys like Xiaoyu made it easy by wearing their emotions in plain sight. So he figured you had to be blind not to catch a hint of an idea of how the rest of the trainees were feeling about BLACKOUT’s debut news.

Thankfully, though, it was almost time for his solo dance lessons so he had an excuse to avoid the downcast looks for a little while, at least. The small fourteen-year-old made his way down a wide hallway, rows upon rows of doors flanking either side of him and he mentally counted down each door he passed. ‘A10, b1, b2….there it is, b3,’ he thought as he approached an inconspicuous silver door with a small, metal plaque in the center reading, ‘b3.’

‘This is the one Kyubong-ssi said to meet at.’ Jiahao distractedly thought while shuffling over, hand slowly rising towards the long, metal handle until the sound of sudden voices caused the boy to pause, mid-air, frozen on the spot.

Oh? His ears seemed to perk up at the light buzzing of muffled sounds that seemed to only escalate and… is that a heated conversation? Maybe some of the other Korean trainees got into a fight after practice?

That’s weird, it seems like the practice room was not-as-empty as he expected. ‘Maybe Kyubong-ssi is early? Or someone stayed behind to catch up?’ The boy in a short breath as nervousness swirled lowly in his gut at the thought of interrupting something. And really, now that he really observed, he noticed a small crack where the door had fallen ajar.

Jiahao’s brows scrunched up in confusion at the murmurs reverberating from the practice room. It wouldn’t hurt to check it out, he supposed. ‘To be fair, I am supposed to be here…’ was the Chinese boy’s reasoning and it sounded solid to him. Just a little peek would be fine, then he could tell if he needed to wait outside a bit longer, or if Kyubong, the company’s scary dance instructor, was waiting inside for him.

The boy didn’t waste a second creeping up just to the small crack and, with nimble fingers slowly widened the gap just a fraction in order to get a good view of the inside. Before he could even move though, the voices intensified and caused the poor boy to startle.

The reality hit him quickly as the fast jumble of words registered, ‘That’s definitely not korean...they’re speaking mandarin.’ Korean was obviously the common language amongst the trainees, considering the obvious. And with Jiahao’s own limited Korean, he had walked in on many an argument or confrontation, without a care because, well, the others didn’t assume he could understand what they were saying. It wasn't like they particularly cared when the younger trainee listened in or practiced in the same room because he wouldn’t tell anyone about a conversation he couldn’t understand.

But Mandarin was his native language so of course this situation was different from the previous times. He knew all of the other Chinese trainees, and considering there were only a limited number, it wouldn’t be difficult to tell just who Jiahao happened to discover.

Jiahao, as quietly as a mouse, peered through the crack from the adjacent door, anxiously holding his breath as to not be noticed by part of the Chinese line of YG’s trainees.

He knows it’s not right - the conversation isn’t any of his business, but that doesn’t stop Jiahao from convincing himself that he’s not the bad guy here, he isn’t doing any harm by observing...for that’s what he was best at, people watching. This wasn’t any different than that, really, just involving a bit more secrecy. He wasn’t being a sneak. He was justified in his actions! But...none of this comforted the loud, roaring of blood in his ears as his pulse quickened and a small thrill ran through his bones.

Through the little gap, he could make out two figures, one pacing the room while the other sat on the floor and Jiahao’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise when he realizes just who they are. What the heck? The young trainee nearly chokes on his spit because this is a very weird pairing to find alone together. ‘What’s Charlie-hyung doing here with...Xiaoyu?’ The dark-haired boy wondered while biting down on his plump bottom lip to keep himself quiet.

“I really think you should calm down, Yu…It’s not healthy to act like this,” Charlie Li, the Korean-Chinese boy and one of the eldest trainees, murmurs softly in mandarin to another boy from his spot on the floor, knees huddled to his chest in an anxious hold.

The reaction is immediate. The other boy pauses in his tracks, forgetting his pacing to snap his head around to the older with a deep scowl set on his handsome face. and at the look Jiahao can’t help the soft shocked gasp that falls right under his breath. ‘What are Xiaoyu and Charlie-hyung talking about here in secret? And why is Xiaoyu-hyung so...mad?’ Jiahao wonders to himself as he quietly continues to observe the scene before him, feeling a weird yet strong itching nag to leave.

Xiaoyu, another face from China, quite the looker amongst the majority of YG trainees too, stands tall above Charlie’s figure, posture a far cry from his usual confident, gaunt poise, but instead something unruly and dangerous... Xiaoyu’s prominent eyebrows furrow, a scowl curling up his full set of lips giving away his emotions, like a brand across his forehead.

He’s so utterly readable, it’s nearly laughable, his feelings a loud billboard broadcasting to anyone who so much as glanced his way. But nothing about it is funny. And Charlie seemed to think so too as Jiahao sees the older visibly flinch back under the intensity of Xiaoyu’s look.

“Calm down ? You think I should calm down about this, ...this bull !? Are you ing stupid, Charlie, or just that plain docile?” Xiaoyu snaps out loud in the small room, causing both Charlie and Jiahao to wince. The statement is harsh...cruel even, a blatant show of disrespect that is even worse with the mean, dark look in Xiaoyu’s eyes as he says. Taunting and cold. Unlike anything Jiahao had seen from his hyungs and the nagging at the back of his mind to flee grows even stronger than before.

But for some reason, the boy’s feet are glued to the floor. Even if he wanted to run away, he’s not sure he could right now because his legs feel like jelly, barely keeping him upright but definitely unusable.

Jiahao throws a sweaty palm over his mouth to silence his verbal hiss. ‘Oh, oh wow…’ He thinks with a blink, that was some harsh choice of words to the eldest… Never had Jiahao seen Xiaoyu so angry, definitely not enough to lash out at the arguably most gentle-hearted and kind trainee of the bunch. No one yelled or talked down to Charlie. For he was too soft to start any kind of fight, and it’s hard arguing with the purest person in the world.

Charlie had been nothing short of inviting and