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It works. Lana beams. “We’ve been dating for two years. Met at an intro to music theory class in our freshman year. She asked if I could help her make a music video of her dancing for her friend... but it turned out that that ‘friend’ wasme. Thenshe asked me out at the end of it! The video was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I’ll show you sometime!”

I can’t help but laugh, because it’s so clear by how fast and how excitedly Lana talks that she really, really loves Tiffany. I’m very happy for both of them, even though I do feel a slight twinge of jealousy that this is probably the kind of relationship I’ll never be able to experience for myself.

“Hey, we’re here!” Lana says, and I startle awake. I must have fallen asleep for the rest of the way.

The studio looks like a pretty normal brick building, with tall brown doors and long columns that make it seem more like a bank or museum. If it weren’t for Lana’s phone telling us we’ve reached our destination, I would think we got lost somewhere along the way.

“Apparently alotof famous people worked here,” Lana says, lifting up her Gucci sunglasses to get a better view. “Lady Gaga, Rihanna... and even people like Bob Dylan and Ringo Starr.”

I already knew that from looking up the studio’s website yesterday, but just hearing it out loud makes everything feel so much more real. My skin tingles with excitement as I think about working in the same space that all those famous artists did.

“A friend of mine works for the competition behind the scenes as a techie, and he told me that apparently theYou’re My Shining Starstaff had to reserve the place nearly a yearin advance for us,” Lana continues as we walk toward the entrance. “I don’t even want to think about how much money went into booking this place.”

Inside, the studio is much nicer than it looks on the outside, with wood-paneled walls and gleaming rows of gold and platinum records commemorating best-selling albums and soundtracks that were made in this very building.

The studio staff ushers us back to a large conference room where the other vocalists who made it into the competition are sitting, along with Gary Kim and Park Tae-Suk. Since I didn’t stay long enough to see who else got in, I don’t recognize anyone except the Adele-singing SpongeBob-shirt girl, who’s sitting at the middle of the table wearing yet another SpongeBob T-shirt—this one is pink and has the “F Is for Friends” song lyrics on it.

“Great,” whispers Lana. “The child prodigy is here. Might as well give up now.”

Everyone, including the judges, is dressed in normal street clothes, so the camerapeople standing with their backs against the wall are the only indicators that this isn’t just a normal meeting. Although most of the people are Korean, or at least Asian, there’s a handful of Black, Latinx, and white contestants. Since the competition is specifically a Korean music show, people who aren’t fluent in Korean were required to audition with K-pop songs. From what I heard, a lot more non-Korean people got into the dance category since they didn’t have to deal with the language barrier.

“Welcome, ladies,” Park Tae-Suk greets us in Korean. “We’re waiting on a few more people, and then we will begin.”

He checks us off on his tablet and then hands each of us a sealed envelope. Both of our envelopes are personalized, with our names written in fancy cursive.

The conference room is about the size of one of my classrooms at school, barely big enough for the forty people who supposedly made it into this first round. Most of the seats are taken and it’s pretty tight quarters, and I can’t help but notice the way some people stare at me as I try to squeeze my way through to an empty seat.

I’m fat and I take up space, but that’s okay, I tell myself, repeating one of the mantras I always say to myself in moments like this.I’m allowed to take up space just as much as anyone else.

“Move!” Lana yells to a guy who’s manspread all over a row. “We’re obviously coming through, and there’s clearly two empty seats next to you, so it’s not rocket science for you to get up and let us through.”

The guy stumbles out of the way, a baffled look on his face.

Lana rolls her eyes as we settle into our seats.

“Men,” she hisses quietly so only I can hear her. “They always expect us to move for them, but they never think to move forus. This is why I only date girls. Like, I honestly don’t get the appeal.”

“Lana, I love you,” I say. “In a friend way, of course.”

She winks at me. “Girl, you know it.”

Someone else comes in while we’re getting settled, and I count the number of other vocalists in the room. Thirty-nine, including Lana and me. We’re still missing one person.

I look down at my watch. It’s twelve fifteen p.m., and we were supposed to have started at twelve. Park Tae-Suk must have thought the same thing, because he looks down at his smart watch and exchanges a look with Gary. Gary only shrugs at him, and Park Tae-Suk turns to face us.

“Well, hello, everyone,” Park Tae-Suk says in English. “My name is Park Tae-Suk, but you can call me Mr. Park. If the last individual doesn’t show up in the next five minutes, we have no choice but to disqualify her. Please note that we are being lax since this is the first day of practice. In future practices, you are expected to come exactly at noon.”

Everyone says, “Yes, sir,” and shifts uncomfortably in their seats. A few people look relieved, though, like they’re glad that there’s one less person in the competition.

Just then, there’s a crash from outside the room. People shout, and rapid footsteps approach us from across the hall. Through the glass walls of the conference room, I see Henry Cho turn the corner, storming about like he owns the place.

What’s he doing here?I could have sworn Clarissa said that Henry got in for the dance part of the competition, not vocals.

Everyone gapes as Henry opens the door and peers into our room, rapidly glancing this way and that like he’s looking for someone. His hair is disheveled, and his face is full of panic and hurt—the complete opposite of the blasé coolness he gaveoff the last time I saw him. I’m struck by how different he looks now, and I realize this is my first time seeing him as an actual human being and not as a model in an Instagram post or a celebrity addressing his fans.

The camera crew in the back of the room immediately jumps into action, repositioning themselves so they’re facing Henry. They’re eating this up.

Shooting them a glare, Henry closes the door and ducks out.