The mirrored wall covered one side of the spacious practice room, reflecting everything within. The floor was a light gray, firm but not too hard.

In the center of the room stood a small tripod.

"Hey, Ha-eun, do you really need to wear that hat and mask while filming?"

Ha-eun’s face was hidden beneath a white baseball cap and a black mask.

"I want the judges to focus only on my dancing. After all, this audition doesn’t require showing my face."

This was part of her strategy, keeping in mind that one of the VTuber’s content activities involved full-tracking movements. By showcasing her dance skills, she would also demonstrate her potential to handle full-body tracking.

So, in Ha-eun’s submission video, she wanted only her dance moves to stand out. To a VTuber, appearance was just a "red pill"—important, but ultimately secondary.

Yet even Joo Jung-yoon, who had grown close enough to Ha-eun to drop formalities, still couldn’t understand why she was interested in such an unconventional audition like Fantasia.

As Ha-eun began dancing to a well-known idol group’s hit song, showing only her eyes, Jung-yoon watched with a mix of curiosity and amazement. Ha-eun continued the choreography she’d practiced for quite some time—mostly during her private sessions in the open field—with flawless precision.

Even to Jung-yoon, who didn’t know much about idol choreography, Ha-eun’s moves seemed flawless. Perhaps her years of varied exercise paid off.

‘...With a figure like hers, she really does look like an idol.’

After finishing her dance routine, Ha-eun turned to Jung-yoon.

"Do you think it turned out okay, unnie?"

Jung-yoon gave her feedback with a touch of exaggeration.

"It looked so good; anyone would believe you were a real idol. But when did you find the time to practice all that?"

"I squeezed it in here and there."

Ha-eun’s shoulders rose slightly in response to the praise. Although her face remained calm and unbothered, it somehow made her look even more endearing.

In the past, Jung-yoon had only thought, ‘She’s impressive for a kid,’ but after watching over Ha-eun for over a decade, she now saw her more as a younger sibling than a rising star.

So now, instead of maintaining formalities, she could tease her more freely.

"I should send this video to your mom and dad."

"...?!"

"They’ll love it; they’ll think it’s adorable."

"No way…even if they’re my parents…"

It wasn’t uncommon for Jung-yoon to make Ha-eun flustered with these kinds of lighthearted jokes. And watching Ha-eun’s reactions was just as entertaining.

"Just kidding~."

"...I’m going to fire you, unnie."

"?!"

When Ha-eun fired back with her own joke, Jung-yoon’s heart skipped a beat before she realized it was a joke. She then reached over and pinched Ha-eun’s cheeks with playful frustration.

"You little...! That was mean...!"

Jung-yoon even had a tiny tear in her eye, making Ha-eun realize that her manager was more fragile than she appeared.

*-Knock, knock-*

A knock on the practice room door signaled that their time was up. Gathering up the tripod, Ha-eun left the room and soon climbed into the familiar black van in the agency’s basement parking lot.

"So, are we heading home now?" Jung-yoon asked from the driver’s seat.

"No. Let’s go meet the guys," Ha-eun replied. "I don’t think anything will change just by me thinking it over alone."

Realizing that the sooner she resolved things with Double Lee, the better, Ha-eun decided to settle everything today.

From Double Lee’s perspective, they couldn’t wait endlessly for her decision, especially with a new album on the horizon. So she would bring closure to the matter today.

---

"...Should we prepare tea? Or maybe just juice?"

"That’ll make her even more nervous. Let’s just act normal."

This conversation happened right after they got Ha-eun’s message saying she was on her way. Caught off guard by her desire to wrap things up sooner than expected, Lee Gun-yeol and Lee Joon scrambled to prepare for her arrival.

The problem was that they still didn’t know what to say to persuade her. Despite their efforts to appear relaxed and act normally, Ha-eun’s expression and demeanor were unfamiliar when she arrived at the studio.

"Could you play me the rough recording you showed the CEO?"

Something in her gaze and tone felt different, making the usually warm and familiar atmosphere in the studio seem unfamiliar. Double Lee played the partially mixed MP3 file for Ha-eun, who listened in silence, just as Jeong Do-chul had done that morning.

*-Gulp-*

Lee Gun-yeol and Lee Joon watched her reaction, hoping she liked the way her voice blended with Double Lee’s.

Ideally, they wanted her to feature in their song. They couldn’t force her, but…

"It’ll be a valuable experience, Ha-eun. One you’ll never forget."

"...And what makes you so sure?"

"Because we’ve been through it ourselves."

They wanted her to understand that this opportunity was a culmination of their ten-year journey together, a way to repay Ha-eun for all she had done for them. After all, Double Lee owed a lot to Ha-eun.

Aside from the artistic significance and quality her voice would bring to their music, they primarily wanted to honor the bond they shared with her.

‘Did I…promise to buy her a meal?’

‘Then again, considering he can’t even remember that drunk driving is illegal, there’s no way he’d remember a promise he made to Ha-eun.’

Regardless, they couldn’t deny that they’d overcome major obstacles over the years, all thanks to Ha-eun.

To Double Lee, she was a benefactor who had supported them selflessly, solely for the sake of their music.

So, they wanted to give back to this invaluable friend in the best way they knew how.

"I guarantee that countless people will fall for the voice of Lee Ha-eun."

They wanted to gift her the thrill and satisfaction of capturing the hearts of listeners, just as Double Lee had experienced as rookies. While Ha-eun was already a recognized actress, she had yet to debut as a singer, and this could be her chance.

More than anything, if her voice, which they had nurtured for years, received the recognition of countless people, it would bring her a deep, once-in-a-lifetime sense of fulfillment.

"We really hope you’ll succeed with singing, too, Ha-eun."

They asked her once again to join them for the songs they’d written with her in mind. An uneasy silence settled in the studio.

Ha-eun’s expression grew more thoughtful than ever. After about ten minutes, she suddenly stood and entered the recording booth.

"...Put on your headphones."

Without any explanation, she cleared her throat. Puzzled but compliant, Lee Gun-yeol and Lee Joon donned their headphones.

A few seconds later, they heard...

"*If you keep saying mean things, I’ll kick you out!☆*"

A voice so cute and bubbly that they barely recognized it.

"How does it sound?"

"...H-how does it sound?"

"Can you tell it’s me?"

Simultaneously, they shook their heads, commenting that if they closed their eyes, they wouldn’t know it was her.

However, they didn’t understand why Ha-eun had suddenly switched to this unfamiliar voice, so they cautiously brought up the featuring offer again and asked her thoughts.

At that moment, Ha-eun met their eyes through the recording booth’s glass.

"I’ll do it."

"...Really?!"

"On a few conditions."

Ha-eun agreed to feature in their song under certain terms.

"First, I’m using a pseudonym. So don’t go around telling people I did the featuring."

"...Alright."

"And one more thing."

"...?"

*-Sigh-*

"*Help me sing in this kind of voice. Originally, I wanted to surprise people by using my real voice, but now, thanks to you two, I can’t use it.*"

To be honest, they didn’t quite understand her reasoning. Of all things, they couldn’t comprehend why she wanted to sing in a voice different from her real one.

But since the chance to share Ha-eun’s voice with the world was now within reach, neither Lee Gun-yeol nor Lee Joon raised any objections to her conditions.

---

"It was such a great idea to separate the first and second application emails."

"Exactly. This way, we can filter out the joke applications in the first round, making things easier for the staff and ourselves."

It was now late spring, as blossoms began to fade, and Ji Hye-min (VTuber alias: Squirrel) sat reviewing the second round of Fantasia applications, which had just closed the previous day. The cherry blossoms, carried by the breeze, drifted around her.

Meanwhile, her fellow VTuber, Lee Dong-jin (alias: Kangjeong), was also reviewing the applications beside her.

"Uh, unnie? What’s with this highlighted email?"

Noticing an unusual application, Dong-jin pointed it out.

"Oh, that? I’m not sure if it’s genuine or a fake, but... I know the person who applied to Fantasia. I set it aside to read last."

She explained why this particular email was highlighted. Curious, Dong-jin asked who it was from, but Hye-min only gave a cryptic reply.

"Hey, Dong-jin, can you imagine a kindergartener logging onto New World TV when I first started streaming?"

Dong-j

in tilted his head, thoroughly confused.

"Well, back then, it was really a hidden gem. But how would a kindergartener even know about internet streaming?"

"Exactly, right? I mean, it’s probably an impersonator..."

Her suspicions were understandable. After all, the applicant named "Dia" was only 18 now.

It had been 11 years since a viewer named "D.A." first appeared on her streams. Back then, New World TV was more of an underground site. It seemed unlikely that a 7-year-old "D.A." would be the same person as this "Dia."

But despite her doubts, she couldn’t shake off a lingering curiosity.

‘...Honestly, I didn’t expect them to be this committed.’

This person had already made an impression during the first round with a long, heartfelt email. In the second round, they submitted a dance video and two song recordings, showing even more dedication.

She hadn’t reviewed the dance or song files yet, but if by chance, this devoted applicant "Dia" was the same "D.A." who had loyally supported her streams for years...

"I’m getting them into Fantasia, no matter what. I’d even beg them to join."

Even if it compromised the fairness of the audition, she couldn’t ignore someone as significant as "D.A.," who meant so much to her.

To her, "D.A." wasn’t just any viewer—they were almost like her favorite VTuber, a mysterious yet cherished presence.

Therefore, ignoring an applicant with the same username, "Dia," was almost impossible, even though she knew little about them aside from their age, gender, and the VTuber name they aspired to use.