**"Even mountains change in ten years."**

This saying signifies that nothing remains unchanged as time passes. So, since the time Ha-eun began doing things on her own at her sixth birthday, an entire 12 years and two months have gone by—a long span indeed.

Naturally, many things about Ha-eun, including her physical appearance, had inevitably changed.

"Hmm..."

Currently, Ha-eun was gazing into a long, full-length mirror, not a small hand mirror. Reflected back at her was not a cute, innocent little girl, but a charming young lady.

Of course, she knew that calling herself "charming" was a bit self-indulgent, but she also knew that it would be dishonest to describe herself as "plain-looking."

Her long, voluminous hair...

Fine yet slightly sharp, almost cat-like eyes...

And beneath those, a chest that was slightly more prominent than average.

As her gaze continued downward, she saw a toned lower abdomen and well-shaped legs without any excess fat.

It seemed that the worrisome "awkward phase" she had feared as a child hadn't happened. Thanks to the exercise she had done over the years, her body was overall well-balanced.

Because of this, her manager Joo Jung-yoon, and even the rarely seen CEO Jeong Do-chul, complimented her on how well she took care of herself.

On the other hand, Da-yeon, who had been itching to "outshine" Ha-eun for 11 years, commented that Ha-eun looked like a school bully, though even Da-yeon couldn’t bring herself to call her unattractive, even as a joke. In other words, Ha-eun had every reason to be confident about her appearance.

So, to maintain her attractive appearance in a healthy way, Ha-eun changed into her workout clothes and headed to the usual open area.

However...

**<Under Construction>**
**<We apologize for any inconvenience>**

"Huh...?"

Unfamiliar signs, building materials, and bright yellow heavy equipment blocked Ha-eun’s way. The open space, once hers alone, was now packed with muscular construction workers.

And most strikingly, the soft grass of the open field was now overturned and torn up by the fierce machinery.

*-Thud-*

As soon as Ha-eun realized that the open space was no longer hers, her legs gave out. Almost immediately, the middle-aged workers, startled, shouted to check if she was okay.

"Uh... can you stand up, miss? Do you need us to call 911?"

"Oh, no... sorry for worrying you."

With that, Ha-eun walked away from the construction site, shoulders slumped, looking completely dazed.

Lee Ha-eun.
Eighteen years old.

Facing an unwanted change, she tasted the bitter feeling of loss as if her world had collapsed.

---

"Uh, Manager Joo, what's up with Ha-eun today?"

"I'm not sure... she was fine just yesterday."

Sitting in the corner of the studio, hunched over, Ha-eun caught the glances of Lee Gun-yeol and Joo Jung-yoon. But the somber, almost gloomy atmosphere was so palpable that they quickly turned their heads again.

Eventually, Lee Gun-yeol and Joo Jung-yoon started forming various theories based on what they knew. Like maybe she’d been rejected by someone she liked.

"Hmm, I’ve seen people confess to Ha-eun, but I’ve never seen her show any interest in return."

"Honestly, it’s hard to even imagine Ha-eun in love. She’s so uninterested in boys; she almost seems like a nun."

Or maybe she was sick.

"But that health fanatic, sick? Really?"

"Yeah, it doesn’t seem like she’s unwell."

Or, perhaps, she’d had a huge fight with Da-yeon.

"Da-yeon’s busy filming a new drama lately. She’s hardly been coming to school."

"Hmm..."

They tossed around more ideas—academic stress, a late-blooming teenage phase, friendship troubles—but none of their theories could clearly explain Ha-eun's current downcast mood.

It wasn’t until Lee Joon returned to the studio with some packed sushi that the tense atmosphere finally lifted. Naturally, Lee Joon, noticing the unusually somber scene, was puzzled.

"Wasn’t the deadline for that singer audition thing yesterday? Did she forget to apply?"

Another theory that neither Lee Gun-yeol nor Joo Jung-yoon dared voice was finally spoken by Lee Joon.

At that, Ha-eun suddenly rose and walked over to the packed sushi.

"I submitted the audition application."

"Oh, really? That’s a relief..."

Everyone but Ha-eun shivered as her voice, sounding cracked and ghostly, pierced the silence. But, unaffected, Ha-eun broke apart a pair of wooden chopsticks and picked up a shrimp sushi piece.

Chewing her shiny piece of sushi, Ha-eun munched quietly while everyone else awkwardly grabbed their own sushi, still eyeing her carefully.

"Um, guys, could you lend me the rooftop for a bit?"

Ha-eun’s cryptic question hung in the air, causing both Lee Joon and Lee Gun-yeol to raise their eyebrows in confusion.

"So, Ha-eun... what do you plan to do on the rooftop?"

"Exercise."

"But... why do you need to use our studio’s rooftop?"

"The open area where I usually work out has turned into a construction site. And if I work out at home, the downstairs neighbor will probably complain."

They replied, cautiously, that the floor directly beneath the rooftop was vacant, but they still didn’t understand why Ha-eun was so insistent on the rooftop.

"Couldn’t you just go to a gym?"

A genuinely confused question left Lee Gun-yeol’s mouth. But Ha-eun’s response was equally baffling.

"I’m not trying to be a bodybuilder, you know."

"...?"

With her response being so hard to interpret, they couldn’t even begin to untangle her misunderstanding.

However, one thing became clear: Ha-eun’s sadness was indeed because the open space had become a construction site.

"How about you come with us to our judo classes?"

Instead of correcting her misunderstanding about the gym, Lee Joon and Lee Gun-yeol suggested that she join them at the judo academy they attended as a hobby. After all, as a high schooler, it wouldn’t hurt to learn some self-defense.

"Hmm... I’ll think about it."

After finishing her plate of sushi, Ha-eun stood up and entered the recording booth in the studio. She began practicing an idol song she’d been passionately working on lately.

Everyone knew it was for the singing audition Ha-eun had been eagerly anticipating. Her voice was so remarkable that no further vocal training was needed, and any song she sang was a joy to listen to.

But, precisely because her voice was so impressive, it was hard for Lee Joon and Lee Gun-yeol to understand why she would audition with an idol song.

She could easily handle more challenging songs. If she was going to audition, wouldn’t a more impactful, soulful song be better?

"Hey, Ha-eun. Don’t you think a song with a more serious vibe would be better? Like a drama OST, maybe?"

So, he asked her directly from the other side of the recording booth.

"A drama OST? Like which one?"

"*Turn Back Time* from *Haeseumdal* or *My Fate* from *Starry Hall* could work."

"Uh... don’t those songs not have any choreography?"

She dismissed his suggestion, as they lacked choreography. This response only deepened the mystery of Ha-eun’s secretive audition.

"How about you keep practicing your current song but also prepare one that showcases your pure singing talent?"

It was Lee Gun-yeol’s final suggestion, as he couldn’t bear to see her vocal skills go to waste. After all, she could easily pass any audition with her pure vocal talent alone.

"If they turn you down, it just means they don’t know good music."

"Thanks for saying that, at least."

"When have we ever lied to you about singing? You really are talented, Ha-eun."

At that moment, Ha-eun thought they were just flattering her to boost her confidence.

It wasn’t that she had no confidence in her singing skills, but she didn’t think she was good enough to earn high praise from people like Double Lee.

However, not long after, while she paused to sip some lukewarm water...

*-Tap-*

"...?"

A few sheets of white sheet music landed in front of Ha-eun. When she asked in a puzzled voice what it was...

"It’s for a new song in our upcoming album. We’re not sure about the female featuring part, so could you sing it for us?"

It turned out to be sheet music for Double Lee’s new song. They added that she should feel free to treat it as a guide recording.

The problem was that Lee Joon’s expression was strangely awkward. Watching him suspiciously, Ha-eun started singing the female featuring part earnestly.

｢──────♪｣

She hadn’t yet noticed that Lee Gun-yeol had slipped on a pair of thick headphones in preparation.