The practice room was colder than Lia expected.
Not physically — the heaters worked fine — but the kind of cold that settled into your chest when expectations pressed down too hard.
Mirrored walls stretched endlessly, reflecting the same image over and over: a small girl standing with a baby carrier at her feet, hands clenched at her sides, chin lifted like she refused to be swallowed by the room.
Jieun clapped once. Sharp. Efficient.
"Alright. Let's start with basics."
The girls lined up instinctively. Mina at the front, posture straight. Soojin leaned slightly to the side, arms folded, eyes sharp. Reiko stood quiet and centered.
Minji bounced on her heels, whispering something under her breath.
Lia stepped into place last.
She felt it then — the looks.
Not cruel. Not unkind.
Just… curious.
The kind of curiosity that peeled you open slowly.
"She's younger than Minji was," someone whispered near the door.
"Is she really thirteen?"
"And she has a baby…"
Lia didn't flinch.
She'd learned long ago that reacting only fed people what they wanted.
Jieun paced in front of them. "Stretching first. Then vocal warm-ups."
Lia followed along easily. Her body knew discipline. She'd trained in ballet halls, underground studios, places where teachers didn't soften their voices for children who cried.
Still — she was aware of everything.
The way Soojin's eyes flicked to her feet during stretches.
The way Mina subtly slowed transitions so Lia could keep up.
The way Minji shot her encouraging smiles like lifelines.
After warm-ups, Jieun gestured toward the center.
"Rap test."
Soojin straightened immediately.
"Lia," Jieun said. "You first."
The room stilled.
Lia's heartbeat didn't race.
It hardened.
She stepped forward, slipped her hands into her hoodie pockets, and looked straight into her own reflection.
Her Korean wasn't perfect — but rap didn't require perfection.
Only truth.
She started without asking for a beat.
Her voice came out low. Rougher than expected for someone her size.
The words weren't flashy. They were direct.
About movement. Survival. Not belonging anywhere long enough to soften.
Her pronunciation slipped once. Maybe twice.
She didn't stop.
She never stopped.
When she finished, silence followed.
Not awkward.
Respectful.
Jieun raised a brow. "You're not timid."
Lia shrugged. "I don't know how."
Soojin let out a quiet laugh before she could stop herself.
"That was… interesting," Jieun said. "Soojin."
Soojin stepped forward, confidence rolling off her like perfume. Her delivery was sharp, polished, commanding.
When she finished, she met Lia's eyes briefly.
Not hostile.
Not friendly.
Something in between.
After practice, Mina pulled Lia aside while the others cooled down.
"You did well," she said softly.
Lia nodded. "You slowed the stretch count."
Mina blinked. "You noticed."
"I notice things."
A pause.
Mina smiled. "Good. Leaders need members who notice."
The word leader settled strangely in Lia's chest.
That night, back at the dorm, Ari fussed while Minji warmed a bottle.
"She likes music," Minji said cheerfully. "She stopped crying when Soojin was humming earlier."
Soojin glanced up from assembling a shelf. "She has taste."
Lia took Ari, rocking her gently.
As she hummed under her breath — something unfinished, something hers — she realized something quietly terrifying.
This place wasn't temporary.
And that meant… she had something to lose again.