By the time we reached the filming compound, it was almost midnight.
Soojin's final words kept replaying in my head.
Then go prove it.
She'd said them just before I left, after somehow turning a conversation about her concussion into an interrogation about my provisional ranking.
"Fifth," I'd admitted.
"Out of eight?"
"Yes."
"And four advance?"
"Yes."
"So you're one place away."
"Thank you for the mathematical analysis."
"You're welcome."
Even with a bandage on her temple, she'd managed to look smug. She had also made me promise to call through production after the performance, regardless of the results.
Apparently, being hospitalized had done nothing to weaken her ability to issue orders.
"Do you think you can improve?" she'd asked.
"Yes."
"Then go prove it. Not because I need you to win. Because you'll regret giving up before you've even performed."
I hadn't been planning to give up. I'd been imagining everything that could go wrong.
