Cameras panned across cloth-covered tables arranged perfectly to display a curated collection of celebrities, all gathered in the hope of taking home an award that would cement them as a top performer for the year.

A zoom-in was ordered on each of the rookie groups up for the next award - newcomer of the year. All so young and sprightly and excited to be there. They sat gathered in matching stage outfits despite the black tie event. The final pause was planned for ONE-HONEY, the idol group who had given literal blood, sweat and tears for a chance at idolhood. At the table assigned to the six-member group, only one girl sat.

Draped in black material and dripping with silver detailing, Sami stared out into the tall curtains that lined the back of the stage. Classy or aloof? The public would decide based on a clip of only a few seconds. Either way, she is supposedly the only member of her group to not contract a stomach virus. One of the producers had screamed down the phone to their manager at the news that morning. Idol Survival had been TV gold, and he wanted his nugget.

Alas, all that had shown up was their leader.

The studio broke the news first, not wanting to be caught out as being late to the story. It had satisfied a little of the burn to see how little belief there was in the public at their excuse for not showing face. The netizens were brutal.

Stomach bug? Have you seen the size of them lately?

Their agency is probably hiding them until they lose the winter weight they gained…

If it is a stomach bug, they should feel lucky - God saw what they did to their pretty bodies and decided to put a stop to it!

They pulled the camera away from her and swapped priority to the steady stage shots, it was time to announce the rookies of the year. Or, simply rookie of the year. As scorned as they felt by the lack of turnout from ONE-HONEY, they had paid out a huge chunk of their ceremony budget to get Idol Survival’s host to come and present the newcomer trophy - there was no point if they didn’t get the on-camera reunion of him and at least one of the survivors.

The envelope was opened, and the host who had revealed the final line-up to the world, now revealed them as the winners. His smile was perfect, his face perfectly angled to show his best side as he awaited Sami’s approach. She climbed the stairs slowly, trailed by cameras and applauding colleagues.

At the podium, he greeted her like an old friend, although her smile was lacklustre in comparison to his. Someone has already been chewed up by the industry, the production grew mumbled to each other. Only the strong can survive, and that was what he was - strong, dependable, charming. Sami accepted the award with one hand, and with the other drew a pistol from the modesty flap of her skort.

Live on broadcast, she shot him in the head. She yelled, “OUT!” slightly before the bang. Before his body had fallen flat to the shiny stage, Sami was speaking into the suspended microphone.

“This is the cost of entertainment now - a necessary sacrifice, right?” The smile that had been meek and mild became hardened. A woman crushed and rebuilt in the shadow of her loss. “We must keep up with the times and never lose our ratings to the more explicit and extreme.” Guilt had sharpened her, the lingering call that she should have laid down at Chyou’s side and died. “This is my job as an entertainer, and it doesn’t matter who is lost in the process, right?” Wisung would have gotten a chance to live after fighting so hard if she had given up with her love. “Fame means nothing.” But this was her new purpose. Her time as a leader had ended in Idol Survival, now she was an avenger. “A life is a life and that is what we are trading for distraction from our own.” She flashed her teeth. Angry and hungry for blood. “I took myself on Idol Survival, that was my choice, but we should all be asking ourselves why such a show was conceived.” Were the celebrities in the audience listening to her words, or had they gone numb in fear at the sight of the gun? They did not move. Always pale, but now just that little more so. Blood spread itself evenly across the smooth platform, it was far too late for the Host. “How did they find one hundred girls so desperate? Why did so many watch it? What did we gain from this? Did you enjoy it?”

As their reliable leader’s speech was broadcast to millions of gaping viewers, ONE-HONEY were predisposed. Maybe they would get to watch a re-run one day. Probably from a cell. Across office buildings and apartment blocks they were spread, each standing over a producer who had orchestrated their suffering. Bloody bats, bars and blades hung loose at their sides without further assignment. It was over, for all of them.

As a team of security in thick vests tackled Sami to the ground, her final statement rang out through the room. “All I can see is loss.”

She did not kick or scream as she was dragged off stage, the entertainment quota had already been filled for the evening.