I'm speechless.

Really. I don't even know if I'm breathing.

Jade's performance pulverized me, ripped out my lungs and crushed my heart.

Her singing, the raw timbre on Lady Gaga's lyrics completely captivated me.

It's as if it were just us, as if she had whispered word for word in my ear, triggering in me an excitement and a tremor I'd never felt before.

My back is sweaty and I'm short of breath.

"But... was she singing it for me?" Jon-Ho asks, puzzled, frowning. "She was looking at me... I don't understand. Is she a rebellius?"

His words wake me up, followed by Seo Joon's laughter.

"She's a rebellius, yes, but she was singing for all of us. I think she made each of us feel special," he replies, surreptitiously nudging me. "Hyeongje, hurry up and vote, they're closing the replies."

I quickly click on the vote and sigh.

I can't escape this web I've become entangled in.

I know how I feel and I understand what has turned Jon-Ho upside down. His sensitive soul, despite acting tough in public, must have been deeply affected.

I pat him on the shoulder and try to compose myself.

I'll have to answer for all this, but right now I'm frozen.

What he's made to me is a real statement, and I don't know how to respond.

I feel overwhelmed by a feeling that isn't mine, shocked by what my body feels, and even my saliva has dried up.

What are you to me, Jade? I ask myself, frightened.

A sudden storm, a violent downpour that passes and destroys, or a wonderful field of flowers that irrigates my life?

I have no idea, and I continue to agonize over this tangle of thoughts, while the performances on stage continue.

It's when the last candidate finishes, during another break, that we hear a loud scream that makes us jump.

We rush out of our seats and rush to the refreshment area where a lot of people are crowded together. I'm struggling to understand what's happened, but it seems like something serious has happened.

"But that's her," Jon-Ho exclaims, leaning forward, "our rebellius."

I jump at that realization and lean forward, trying to push my way through my colleagues and others.

Jade stands in front of Tae-Hyun, clearly embarrassed, while she, red-cheeked and disheveled, continues to point a finger at him.

What the hell happened? Did they fight again?

"This is a singing competition, not a street fight," Mr. Park is saying in a harsh tone. “I demand that everything be returned to civilized coexistence.”

Jade shakes her head. She seems furious and shows no signs of calming down.

Ari and a couple of guys try to reason with her, but she doesn't listen.

“He called me a whore,” she explodes, “and it's not the first time. And he raised his hands at me twice.”

The other guy blushes and steps back, shaking his head violently.

I feel like I've been insulted.

What did he say to her?

I'm so angry I want to go and slap that bastard myself, but a hand on my arm stops me.

It's Seo Joon, holding me back and shaking his head.

“Stop, hyeongje, let things unfold,” he whispers in my ear.

There are many exclamations, someone speaks, and a major chaos ensues.

“This is very serious,” Lee Su-Heok replies, intervening. "Lee Yeona, are you okay?"

She nods and thanks him, but doesn't seem inclined to give up.

"We have to suspend the program, it's serious," says Mr. Park.

"No!"

Jade is the one who speaks, looking serious.

She pulls her hair back into a ponytail, raises her head, and taking a step toward her opponent, says:

"Since you care so much about this show, seeing how much you're willing to do to get to the finals, go ahead. I'm leaving."

Chaos breaks out, with shouts, exclamations, and insults drowning out everyone's voices.

Mr. Park looks like he's having a heart attack; his face is blue, and Ha-Eun rushes to support him.

"Yeona-a, you can't be serious!"

She smiles sadly, but nods.

"I know what I'm saying, Coach. Sorry if I'm disappointing you."

Ha-Eun grimaces in disappointment and shakes her head.

"You're denying yourself," he says in a dismissive tone.

"No, I'm honoring myself, reclaiming the dignity I deserve," he replies with a smile.

Then he turns to Mr. Park.

"I'm not leaving backstage, don't worry. Do you want your share? You'll get it."

He turns to the studio coordinator and asks:

"Am I in or out of the finals?"

The other shakes his head, but she insists. Only after Park gives his assent does he confirm in a low tone that she's among the ten finalists.

"Okay, then let's go on stage."

She heads toward the audience, followed by the astonished looks of all of us.

"She's a queen, this girl," Seong-hwa whispers to me in an admiring tone. "Know that I love her."

I glare at him, but he follows Mingi's comment.

"I don't know why, but I love her too."

Huffing, I run after her, ignoring the comments.

I catch up with her as she's talking to the sound engineer, who's staring at her, flustered. He doesn't seem to want to listen, but she grabs his arm and insists.

The poor man stares at me pleadingly, so I intervene.

"What's the matter, Lee Yeona?"

I don't know why my tone is serious when I just want to scream, grab her in my arms, and drag her away from here.

She turns around in surprise, looks at me, and then asks in a serious tone:

"Coach, can you do something for me? Can you ask Mr. Oh to follow my instructions and guarantee that I don't want to harm the contest?"

I stare at her for a few moments, then nod.

I don't know what she's up to, but I trust her, so I reassure the man.

"What do you want to do?"

She seems lost in thought, as if she's practicing a new choreography, but then she remembers I asked her a question and answers:

"Increase the show's ratings and leave with a bang."

She says this with a smile, and I raise my eyebrow.

"Do you really want to leave?"

She nods.

"I've finally figured out my place. And it's not here." He bows and then asks, "Can you ask the other Ateez members to please a fan by singing one last song with me?"

I nod thoughtfully, while my classmates fall in line behind me.

Jade waves and leaves, while I explain her request to the boys.

They both agree, but they have the same worried look on their faces.