She should consider herself lucky, Wendy supposed. There were people who went through life without ever knowing who their soulmate was, or if they even had one. At the age of 18, she had already found the answer to both questions.

Yet, as her eyes trailed over the trainee currently walking away, one arm linked with the girl who had just introduced herself as Seulgi, she was convinced that the universe had decided to play a joke on her.

Barely a few days ago, she had arrived in Seoul after passing an audition with one of the biggest names in the entertainment industry. Freshly graduated from a Canadian high school and reeling from the abrupt change in possible career path, she had boarded a plane and flown to her homeland.

Being an SM trainee was difficult at best and torturous at worst, as her parents cautioned. Yet, she assured them that she was sure of her choice, even as they pulled into an alleyway facing the building that seemed to exude an intimidating shadow as she stepped out the car.

“You know you can always come home if it ever gets too difficult, Seungwan.” They reminded her, even as they hugged her goodbye. Wendy watched until the familiar license plate disappeared around the corner before she dragged her luggage into the entranceway.

Almost instantly, she felt the atmosphere shift as the doors opened to reveal a front desk. The receptionist seemed to silently appraise her as she pushed a clipboard with a list of names towards her. Wendy finally found hers on the third page, barely grasping how many hopeful applicants were actually called back for the final round of interviews.

After she signed against her name, a temporary pass was handed to her, along with instructions to head up to the conference room on the third floor.

Her grip tightened on her luggage, ignoring the stares and pointed glances from girls chatting by the watercoolers, their bodies already resembling that of models. She tried not to feel guilty about the cookie she had on the plane, and instead focused on picking up the rapid Korean flowing back and forth between the trainees.

However, all of those thoughts flew out the window when she stepped into the conference room and found herself facing a team of 6 people in suits.

It took all of 3 minutes for the interviewers to pick up on three things. The first, was her Korean. Despite being a Korean, the spoken form of the language came with a flurry of unfamiliar terms and abbreviations that she had never encountered. Her parents spoke Korean to her at home, but the years in Canada had rendered the language hazy and dull on her tongue. She regretted not taking Korean classes in school, for it could have made her look less like an idiot in front of the people she was supposed to impress. She had to bite her tongue at the comments doubting her nationality and instead, apologise for the inconvenience.

The second, was her lack of training in dance. In Canada, she had an affinity for drama and music, but dance was never something she had taken up. With her ability to play multiple instruments and sing, she had already been considered multi-talented. However, under the scrutiny of the wall of her prospective teachers, she had never felt more average and unworthy.

Her saving grace came in the form of the third thing they noticed. Her voice. If there was anything she recognized, it was consideration and appraisal. She had seen in when she belted out difficult numbers for auditions, gaining solo performances nearly every year. Back then, it gave her confidence. Yet, in Korea, it was the thin shred of hope she clung to, that she might have a chance to make it in this industry. That she could be worth something more than the plane ticket and email notifying her that she had passed the audition and had been invited for an in-person interview at SM Entertainment.

Needless to say, finding her soulmate wasn’t at the forefront of her mind when the man in the centre introduced himself as the CEO and welcomed her to the program.

It didn’t mean she was entirely immune to stray thoughts whenever she saw magazines and paintings and imagined what they would look like in colour. Children were taught about the colour spectrum and the origins of the soulmate theory from kindergarten. The concept was served to them like a plate of desserts, sweet and more akin to a fairytale than reality. However, experience often proved otherwise.

She had often heard accounts of soulmates breaking up after realising they weren’t compatible. There were even soulmates with platonic connections and soulmates who were born at the wrong times or places, and simply never met. Statistically, the idea of finding one person out of billions of people existing on the same planet at the same time, was minuscule.

It didn’t make sense, she once told her teacher, that the universe would destine someone for a person, yet put them in a situation where they would never encounter one another.

What her teacher told her next stuck with her even as she glanced at couples who shared cakes in cafes and had picnics in the park.

“There are many things that science can’t explain. Yet, just like how you can’t choose your parents or who the universe assigns, sometimes you can’t choose who you love either.” Wendy had made a face then, her features scrunching up in a child-like grimace as she reiterated that it didn’t sound very nice to take away people’s choices to love who they wanted.

Yet, for the romantics, finding someone who completed their soulmate bond was the epitome of life. Her parents were colour bonded. So, they were one of the lucky ones. Some never settled down, choosing to mingle around while waiting for their soulmate to arrive and turn their word into colour. Yet, for the practical ones, the soulmate bond was simply a bonus to an already successful relationship.

Wendy considered herself a part of neither faction, simply because she had witnessed both the beauty of falling for someone without the necessity of a soulmate bond as well as the fulfilment of marrying a soulmate. Her parents were lucky enough to find their soulmate bond in one another, but her practical-minded sister had found love with her chosen partner despite seeing in black and white.

Her sister had even joked that if she succeeded in becoming an idol, she might even meet her soulmate at a fansign event or concert when everyone is cheering her name. It would make life easier, aside from the scandal it would cause, Seunghee had teased while Wendy rolled her eyes at the possibility. If she even made it through the training regime and selection process, she wouldn’t have time to think about resting, much less relationships. Plus, she had argued, as a performing artist, there were rules about dating and seeing people within and outside the industry.

Her prediction had been right. The last question for her interview was about her belief in soulmates and what she would do if she met hers during the trainee program or start of her career. The answer she gave had been memorized almost clinically from the contract she had previewed, which was that her commitment to her future group and career would always take priority over her personal relationships.

Almost immediately after the meeting, Wendy been carted to her new accommodation and led to another wing in the building. After a whirlwind of procedures and administrative papers she had to sign, Wendy was officially integrated into the trainee program.

She was to start lessons immediately, she was told.

“Miss Son, you can consider yourself fortunate that the CEO himself watched and approved your audition tape, so you don’t have to go through the waiting list.” The staff member seemed to sense her nervousness, because she halted organizing the bundles of documents that she had just gone over with her. “Don’t worry too much for now. Just focus on getting prepared for your evaluations because that will be the real test.”

As forewarned, there would be monthly evaluations to gauge her progress and her schedule would be adjusted whenever the need arose. Thankfully she didn’t need to retake any English lessons, but she would require vocal training and dance lessons on top of Korean classes with the rest of the foreigners in her batch.

The blatant stares and whispers started the moment she walked in. She made eye contact with the dance instructor, who thankfully, was one of the instructors who spoke to her during auditions and gave her a video of the latest choreography that she needed to learn.

Her lack of dance experience was a weakness she needed to improve if she wanted to move up in rankings, the dance instructor had advised her on the first day. Her overly academic Korean was another. Her mannerisms had to be taken into account as well, considering the volatility of the public’s opinions towards western influences in a local setting. The company already had a few issues raised in the past when a senior idol accidentally did something that the public took offense to. While they were small issues in the grand scheme of their careers, a single mistake as a rookie could destroy the chances of breaking through to the public eye.

Everyone there was fighting for the same opportunity, the same dream that only a shortlisted few would have the fortune of reaching. As the newest trainee with the least experience, if she wanted to succeed, she needed to focus and prove her worth. She may have arrived with the raw vocal talent, but no idol could survive on that alone.

Amongst a group of teenagers, gossip spread like wildfire.

She was sure that some of them would have already started checking up on her the moment a new trainee was announced.

In Canada, she still felt nervous when performing on a stage. However, it was nothing compared to the immediate judgement and apprehension she was subject to as she stepped forward to introduce herself as Wendy Son.

The blood pounding in her ears as she waited for the instructor to address the class was a familiar one. She barely heard the chorus of “yes” in response to the dance instructor’s comment to watch out for her since she was new.

By the end of the first gruelling lesson, Wendy felt like her leg muscles were going to tear at the seams. She couldn’t fathom how the other girls had the energy to book rooms and practice even more.

As the other trainees filtered out of the room, she noticed a shadow in her path. Glancing up, her eyes met with one of the trainees who stood a head taller than most of the other girls. Not only was she ahead in terms of height, but she was clearly one of the most talented dancers in the team. It didn’t take an expert to see that her movements had more control and power than the other trainees.

“Hello! I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself just now. My name is Kang Seulgi.”

Wendy blinked, momentarily shocked that she was being addressed.

“Sorry!” She blurted in surprise, startling the other trainee, as well as the other girl standing behind her. Remembering her crash course rudimentary Korean lessons, she responded accordingly. “Nice to meet you. My name is Wendy. I hope we get along.”

“You don’t have to be so formal, we’re all trainees here.” Seulgi added kindly, before sneaking a grin at the girl behind her. “Except Joohyun-unnie here, who’s almost a sunbae already.”

The other girl sent Seulgi a frown which the younger girl simply laughed off. “Are you calling me old?”

Joohyun. So that was her name, Wendy thought. The older girl had a certain presence which drew her attention even though Wendy hadn’t spoken a word to her yet. Physically, she was stunning, despite the lack of makeup and loose clothes that hid her figure. There was no doubt that she could be an idol, just from the way she walked and presented herself.

In that one dance lesson alone, she had been singled out for demonstrations a few times, along with Seulgi, which already said a lot about their ranking in the cohort. However, the difference between them was that the latter was approached by the people beside her for guidance with the new choreography. As for the former, it wasn’t difficult to notice that the rest of the class eyed her with a semblance of respect and wariness. Besides Seulgi, she didn’t make small talk with any other trainee.

Narrowly dodging a sharp poke from the older girl, Seulgi turned back to Wendy. “What year were you born in, Wendy-ssi?”

“1994.” Wendy recalled, and Seulgi’s face lit up.

“Oh, we’re the same age!” Seulgi’s eyes turned into crescents as she clapped gleefully. She turned back to the girl who had been otherwise silent during their introductions. “Unnie! Did you hear that?”

“Yes, my hearing works just fine.” The other girl’s lukewarm response would have put Wendy off, but Seulgi’s grin didn’t even waver. It was either that she normally spoke in a similar manner or that Seulgi was just a very accepting person. Although she didn’t know either of them well, she could see both of those propositions being true.

Just then, she felt the other girl’s gaze on her.

Wendy should have known then, from the way her ears seemed to perk up in anticipation and the way her body fought the urge to lean towards the other girl, that she was different.

“As Seulgi mentioned, my name is Bae Joohyun, but you can call me Irene. It’s nice to meet you.” Her voice was mellow and soft, a contrast to the cool nature of her tone and her clipped sentence. Yet, Wendy found herself enraptured. That is, until she realised that everyone had fallen silent and she had likely missed out the rest of her sentence.

“Uh-” She glanced around, awkwardly taking a step in a random direction just to divert attention. “Sorry, what?”

The older girl’s demeanour seemed to turn impatient as she folded her arms and repeated herself. It was a single movement, but it made Wendy feel embarrassed.

“Wendy-ssi, I was asking if you went by a Korean name. The teacher called you… Seungwan, was it?”

Wendy hadn’t realised she was holding a blue water bottle until a single colour transitioned from the grey label on her bottle as soon as her Korean name was uttered. It stunned her into silence.

As a closeted romantic, she had held on to the hope that someday she would meet her soulmate, be it at a random event or even serendipitously at a café. However, instead of elation and excitement, all she felt was dread. She gripped the bottle tighter as her vision zeroed in on the blue towel hanging around Irene’s neck.

Her attention snapped back to the two people in front of her as she tried to focus. This situation was too far out of the realm of possibility, even for her. Not only did this happen at the worst possible timing, when she was literally on the brink of embarking on her future path as an artist, but her soulmate was also one of the top trainees in the cohort.

It couldn’t be her. In no way did the pairing make sense.

In no world would someone like her, end up with someone like Irene Bae.

Lost in thought, she completely missed the next sentence, only catching on to the conversation when Seulgi responded in affirmation that she had also heard their instructor addressing her as Seungwan and that it was a lovely name.

Wendy nodded absentmindedly at her words, wondering whether the bond was triggered specifically because of her Korean name.

When she had arrived in Incheon and was told “welcome home” by the immigration staff, she felt a strange sense of discomfort. After all, her home had been Canada for a while.

Her birth name was Seungwan but she went by Wendy in Canada and it stuck. The kids at school liked her name and so did she. She wasn’t as attached to her Korean name since it was almost exclusively used by her family. However, she had to agree that both names formed a part of her identity.

Unlike her sister, she actually liked being known by her English name. Between the two sisters, she had adjusted more quickly to the Canadian environment, making friends easily with her spontaneous and enthusiastic nature. Hearing her English name reminded her of her friends back at school who encouraged her to audition and sent her off with the reminder that she would always have her first international fans in Canada. She had read their letters on the plane and cried, wondering if she had made the right decision to go back to a country that would likely always consider her less than native because of her overseas education.

“I like Seungwan more than Wendy.” Irene commented, her name sitting idly on her tongue as though it was simply a word and not the reason why Wendy’s world had turned upside down. “It suits you.”

Her words struck Wendy as being a direct contrast to her own thoughts, although she wasn’t going to admit that out loud. It was an ironic trait to have in a soulmate, she mused.

It was hard to grasp that a person she had literally just met, was supposed to be universally determined as meant for her. However, she wasn’t opposed to learning the reason why.

“I’m not sure how long you trained for before coming here, but it won’t be easy from now on.” The seriousness in her tone urged Wendy to nod in acknowledgement of her advice as a senior.

Unaware to the turmoil that was happening in Wendy’s mind, the oldest of the three ended their exchange promptly and turned to Seulgi.

“Hey, I’ve got a meeting with the choreographer after this, so I’ll head off first. Good luck with training.”

The other brunette nodded with a smile. “Sure! See you later, unnie!”

Their exchange barely registered in her brain as Wendy tried to verify whether some sort of visual change had actually taken place within the last few minutes. Strangely, the rest of the room was still the same shade of grey as before.

She glanced back to the bottle in her hand. It was half empty but the glint from the dark blue bottle cap and label made the water take on a blueish hue. She was relatively sure that the colour she had seen was blue, despite not referring to her colour chart.

Each child in her school was given a pocket colour chart to study and learn the colours by name and shade. Logically, it didn’t make sense to have it in their syllabus since everything was still in muted shades of grey, but apparently it was still a requirement to recognize the existence of colours. Thankfully, clothing lines and production companies still maintained an air of practicality because most products came with labels. Hence, most people didn’t need the colour chart after school. Perhaps it was the child in her, but Wendy still carried hers around, if only to ensure that she would recognize the colours of things before purchasing them. One could never be too sure, as she would have liked to think, whether a staff could have mislabeled a colour.

Understanding colours when she saw in a scale of black and white was difficult.

“What does blue look like?” Fed up with staring at the dull shade represented on her colour chart, Wendy had asked her mother one day.

Her mother hummed for a moment before leading her to the sink and turning on the tap. “Close your eyes and stretch your hand out. What do you feel?”

The splash of icy liquid against her skin made her scrunch her nose and gasp as she tried to move her hand away. “It’s cold!”

She heard a chuckle as her mother gently held her in place. “Not yet. What else do you feel?”

Wendy waited, allowing the water droplets to drip over her skin and fall off at the ends of her fingers. It was an odd but steady sensation which calmed her until her breaths became even again.

“Oh, it’s warm now.” She noticed with amazement. “How can it be both?”

Her mother smiled. “To answer your previous question, blue is like water. It takes on the emotions of its surroundings depending on the shade. It can be warm and cold, sad and happy; it can be harsh, yet gentle too. It’s the feeling of calmness and relaxation as you stare at a far away spot and feel like there’s an infinity ahead of you.”

At the time, it seemed like a lot of descriptive and flowery imagery that Wendy had difficulties grasping. However, as her eyes trailed over the undoubtedly blue towel that hung from Irene’s delicate hold, Wendy suddenly understood.

“…Unnie is from Daegu so she’s still working on her Korean.”

She blinked, finally realizing that she had gone quiet for too long to make a good impression.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” Embarrassed that she had once again missed part of the conversation, Wendy bit her lip. She hoped that the other trainees didn’t think she was stupid.

Seulgi was the first person that seemed friendly enough and it would be a shame if her first impression was destroyed so quickly.

“Irene-unnie.” Seulgi explained patiently, not a trace of irritation in her tone. Instead, she seemed to slow her speech, as though she was trying to accommodate to a foreigner. It hit Wendy then, that Seulgi probably assumed Wendy didn’t understand her. She almost went along with it, knowing that the native speaker was not too far from the truth.

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