People think I'm famous because I'm rich. My family owns enough of the city to buy the entertainment company I'm signed to. But they didn't give me my voice.
I spent years learning to dance just by watching a screen once. I can rap faster than the veterans and hit high notes that make glass rattle.
When I got back to the dressing room, my manager was pacing. "Carin! You swore on the live broadcast yesterday! And today you didn't even thank the CEO in your speech! Your 'image' is going to be ruined!"
"My image?" I sat down and pulled out my phone, scrolling past the hate comments from rival fans. 'She's so arrogant,' 'She doesn't respect her seniors.'
I laughed and posted a selfie with a middle-finger emoji hidden in the background. "My fans love the music, not the fake personality, Manager Kim. If the other idols hate me, tell them to sell more albums than me first. Then we'll talk."
My phone buzzed. A notification from Instagram:
@ateez_official (Wooyoung) and @enhypen (Sunoo) started following you.
I leaned back, a real smile finally touching my lips. "Finally," I muttered. "Someone interesting to talk to."