There was no logical explanation for Sami being able to hear the sound of Yu Jun hitting the ground. But she would swear for the rest of her life that she did. The thump sickened her more than the gun shot. No doubt she went down smiling.

She didn’t look until she had counted to ten, plenty of time for her body to be retrieved. When she did look, only blood remained. It spread across the stage like weeds, mixing with the water, mingling with the rest of the red splatters all around.

Soft lumps pushed back at the soles of her trainers. The blood was congealing beneath the stomping feet of the survivors. Sami’s eyes stung as she danced on Yu Jun’s remains. That young girl had looked at her with nothing but admiration. To Yu Jun, she wasn’t a failure. A waste of her agency’s money. Without Yu Jun to see her value, she returned to her original state - a debt on legs.

The money Sami had owed her agency was more than she could earn in ten years in an office job. She didn’t have ten years. Her time had run out long ago. Second warning. Third warning. Final warning. Threats. Pre-teen trainees had no idea that when they joined an agency, they were agreeing to pay for their own debut. The cost of music videos, living expenses, a dormitory for her group, it all put her further and further into the red. The agency expected the group to make enough money to cover the debt. When the group failed after two years, the bill was shifted onto the members themselves. One had taken her life within three months of disbandment. The few fans they had believed she was heartbroken over the ending of their group, rather than filled with the hopeless dread of knowing you owe more money than a non-celebrity could ever collate.

Idol Survival was her last chance. She had struck a deal with her bastard CEO. She enters the competition, and her debts are cleared, No more thug collectors sent to her family home. If she managed to debut, great, a second chance at her dreams. If she died, the only red she would leave behind would be her blood.

The music was pounding against her ear drums, so much louder than any performance she’d ever partaken in. It wasn't clear if it was intended to drown out the gun shots or the fake thunder. The explosive noises were completely overwhelming and she couldn't count how many shots had been fired. They hadn’t provided ear pieces, probably lacking the funding to supply ninety sets. Singing wasn’t the skill needed to survive the challenge, though, it was purely reflexes. And hers were being skewed by the distraction of all the noises. At this point, she wasn't sure if she was dancing to the music that was being played, or her memory of the song in her head. They didn't deduct points for falling out of step or out of time, as far as she knew. There were no points, only life or death.

When the song ended, her ears were ringing. But if she could hear the ringing then she had survived the challenge. Two down, only the god-playing producers knew how many more.

Sami panted through the blur of sweat, rain and blood that had splattered her face. Her hands were braced against her knees as she finally allowed herself to look around the room. The big, shiny, black execution chamber. It was difficult to estimate of how many girls were still standing on the soaked stage. Standing, just, she should say. Everyone was swaying and shaking, some sobbing. One thing was clear though, this had been the first big cull. Their number had dropped by a huge amount.

She wondered if the psycho producers had been expecting that, or if they had been hoping for a slower decline. More episodes. More time to piece together story lines. More sponsors. More money. Sami shook her head and was slapped by her wet bangs.

Of the Green Group Girls, only herself, Sopa, HaYoon, Myeong, Soyul, Si Eun, Yena and Jun were still standing in their corner. It looked like their group had fared the worst. A pang of guilt squeezed at Sami's chest. She should have encouraged the other girls to practice late with her, she was the experienced member of the group, and one of the oldest girls on the show. The responsibility fell to her to help them.

It didn't help Yu Jun, though.

And buying them time could only last so long. The producers were looking to get ninety-four deaths on camera for the entertainment of the continent. Knowing that only six could survive meant even the Green Group Girls had to lose at least two.

They say everyone dies someday, but the knowledge that almost every girl in the room wouldn't see the next year held a haunting hollowness in Sami's chest.

A small and dainty hand patted her back between the shoulder blades. Sopa was at her side when she straightened, and gave her a thumbs up with a weary smile.

Sami returned it. She didn't have the words to explain to her new friend just how torn up she was feeling inside and all the reasons why. Not that Sopa would understand half of what she said, she was struggling a lot with the rapid-pace Korean that was constantly streaming around her. Jun was the same. Sami did her best to explain things as they practised together, but she didn't speak any Thai, and had less Japanese words in her head than she had fingers on her hands. They were patient and grateful, though.

And the language barrier wouldn't get in their way if they could memorise dances and song lyrics, which they had made clear after this performance that they could. She wondered if it had bolstered their confidence a little, while she could only feel trepidation for what was to come. Some girls were already breaking mentally. She couldn't say for sure that wouldn't be her in a few weeks.