Minji was used to being close to the end. The final rounds of cuts to make it into her company’s latest debuts: girl groups, co-eds, duos, and the elusive solo debut that was dangled above her head whenever her parents tried to convince her to leave. Not yet, Minji. Just wait a little longer. You’re not the only one still here. Maybe one day the agency would quit messing them around and just put her and Chyou out as a double act. They could make it work. Minji was hard-working and Chyou was beautiful, that was all they needed, right?

But now, they were on Idol Survival. Their final moments broadcast on national television for all to enjoy.

The final challenge was here, the show’s tag-line ‘Debut or Die!’ sliding across electronic banners that lined an enormous hall. It was like an aircraft hanger, but filled with apparatus. Ropes and frames and fake buildings. A boot camp with glitter and a pink palette.

“-an idol does not clod and stomp like an elephant!” said like an admonishment to the group. “They are elegant faeries, dancing in every movement. You will work through the course with grace, and balance, and most importantly…” The Host dropped his voice to a whisper, although he held his microphone just as close to his pink-tinted lips. “No sound.”

Every girl’s mouth fell open a little, although they managed to remain silent.

“You make a noise, and you are OUT!” The shout of that last word sent a jolt through the group of twenty. “Make it to the podium, and your debut awaits.”

They were lined up, ready to all run at once, and a gaggle of heavy-handed producers strapped super-sensitive microphones to their collars. Looking down the line, Minji caught Sami’s eye. Sami had been the closest thing Minji had to a mentor throughout the competition, she gave her a determined look now.

Fighting!

Minji nodded back. A small hand took hers and squeezed, between them, Chyou was trembling from fluffy blonde head to toe. Her other hand was in Sami’s. At the very end of the line, Minji recognised Wisung - on crutches now. Beside her was sweet Jun, eyes wider than seemed natural, as though she had already seen the future horrors this challenge would bring. A few girls Minji didn’t know as well made up the middle section. Then Sami, Chyou, Minji. To her right was Myeong, eyes red and watery, nose running because she dared not sniff. A couple more girls made up their end with clipped back bangs, high ponytails, and terror in their dark eyes.

The Host counted down. Chyou’s hands dropped. Out of the corner of her eye, Minji could have sworn she saw Sami kiss the tiny woman’s forehead. Too late to think too hard about it, the Host reached one, and a gunshot rang out. One girl was instantly spooked, let out a squeak and was shot before she could cross the starting line. The rest took off.

The gentle jogging felt ridiculous, but there was too much pressure to simply walk, and running could lead to trips and falls. She climbed the rope ladder nearest her with as much control as the swinging would allow, breathing slowly through her nose. It was rough against her hands, no calluses for an idol, she thought. At the top, she swung her leg, narrowly avoiding kicking Chyou in the face, gave an apologetic wave, and hurried back down. A few sections down, a girl hit the ground harder than she’d anticipated, a sickening crunch preluding her cry, and then came the shot that silenced it.

Sami and Chyou were still keeping close to one another, Minji had fallen back a little behind them. From the chaos around them, it seemed they were middle of the pack. The maknae, Hana, had been the only one to take off like a rocket, speeding through the obstacles with her cheeks puffed as though holding her breath. Hopefully that tactic worked for the fifteen-year-old, but Minji wouldn’t be betting her own life on it.

Stumbling into her path came Jun, pale pink trainers skidding and sliding, narrowly avoiding the collapse of one of the fake walls that made up their arena. Minji caught her just beneath the shoulders and steered her around the rubble. A look of relief was shared, then a nod, and they continued on.

Jun darted off, missing the scene ahead and taking a hard left between wooden posts, while Minji was left to stagger to a halt. Crushed under the crumble of brick was a tiny figure that Minji had hugged more times than her own siblings. Her partner in pre-debut Hell. The only trainee left in the dungeon with her when the recruiting producers arrived for Idol Survival.

Mouth stretched in a silent scream, Sami cradled the rubble-strewn top-half of Chyou’s body. Soundless, it still hit Minji in the chest, almost knocking her to her knees just as Sami was. She forced herself forward, eyes blurring and stabbed with burning pain, and took Sami’s elbow, urging her up. Sami shook her head, shorn hair dusted with brick powder over sweat. There were no right words, no way to express to Sami how Minji felt, even if she could speak in that moment and live.

A man in all black stalked around the corner, surveying Chyou’s body with gun cocked, awaiting any sound or movement. Minji slapped her hand over Sami’s mouth as the older girl began to struggle, shaking her head violently. She dragged her back, letting Chyou’s beautiful blonde head fall to the ground with a dull thunk. Despite the blunt noise, it stabbed Minji in the gut. Sami kicked and struggled, ready to lunge at the man with the rifle pointed at their friend.

A whimpering, wheezy sound shook Chyou’s frail shoulders. The shot ripped the energy from Sami’s frame. She dropped back into Minji, limp. Knees shaking, Minji lowered them both to the ground, forcing Sami’s face away from Chyou’s blood chasing them. Her hand was still clamped over Sami’s mouth, she didn’t dare lift it.

They stared into each other’s eyes for a few moments. More shots rang out in the distance.

Without the ability to communicate with anything but looks. Minji could only silently pray that Sami understood her intentions.

There is nothing we can do.

There is no reason for you to die too.

Chyou would not want that.

I need you too.

Thinking those last four words pricked at her eyes. Sami’s were already streaming. She nodded, and Minji released her mouth. It hung open, nose dripping to cracked lips, allowing shallow breaths in and out. When they pulled themselves up, balancing their weight as they clutched each other’s arms, Sami didn’t allow herself to look back.

They forged onwards, Minji leading them along the path that Jun had taken, and hoping she didn’t see her before the end podium. There were planks to walk, ropes to swing, and faux floors to dodge. Slow, steady, scared, they picked their way through the arena. Every body brought a pause, checking the number, mentally noting the name.

So far, their girls hadn’t been among them. Somewhere out there, Myeong and Jun could still be pushing to the finish line. More shots ricocheted through the enormous set.

Between a pair of jaggedly cut slices of metal, a pink column stood at the back wall. Sami grabbed her shoulder and shook her, desperately sharing the moment of the end in sight. It was like a small stage, lit up with round flat lights in the outer ring. Raised high off the ground, they would have to climb it to reach true safety. Atop it already stood three girls, two of them were theirs. Minji squeezed Sami’s hand in relief. Jun and Myeong had made it. They launched themselves at the podium scrabbling to the top and into their friends’ arms.

Finally, they allowed themselves to sob. Sami could only say Chyou’s name, it was all they needed to hear to know what had happened. Minji hugged the third girl, too, although she wasn’t sure of her name. She asked, through snot and tears, and was told it was Sara. They smiled at each other, exhausted, horrified, heartbroken.

A puffed-cheeked face appeared between the shards, red all over and stumbling on her way to the podium. Sami threw herself flat against the top, reaching an arm out to her.

“Come here, baby,” she called, voice raw. Sobered in the face of a stranger in need of help.

Their maknae wailed into Sami’s shoulder as soon as she was pulled to safety. Just a child in a blood-spattered uniform. Her fingers were blistered, presumably from struggling to haul herself with the ropes. Minji patted her head gently. There was nothing she could say to relieve this young girl of the weight of what she had seen, what she had felt, and what would be keeping her up at night for the rest of her life.

They huddled, hopeful of more friendly faces appearing amongst the destruction of the course. After they’d had a short while to soother their hiccups and sobs, one more figure hobbled out from the dust.

“Wisung!” Minji called. Defying all the odds, their crutch-caged sister had made it.

Wisung hopped and dragged herself the last section, and allowed the other six girls to haul her up with coos of congratulations and concern for her injured leg.

Block by block, the overhead lights of the hangar shut off, the darkness coming towards them in jerky drops. Finally, only the strips of light above the podium remained lit, and the Host stepped out from behind it.

His smile was so wide, almost unnatural. From his jacket, he drew that pistol again.

“Congratulations to our final line-up of Idol Survival’s debut girl group: ONE-HONEY!” A producer scooted a small stepladder to the podium and the Host climbed it, pistol dangling at his side. The mere sight of it sent a cold, wet feeling to Minji’s stomach. “As much as we’d love to offer everyone a position, unfortunately, there are only a select amount places available on our team of survivors.” His expression was twisted, maniacal. “And as we all know, this is the final stage - only six can stand here.”