I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned in my bed, listening to the sound of the clock ticking away the seconds. It was a few days before our first performance in front of the judges, and the pressure was getting to me. I was worried I wouldn't make the final line-up and my dreams of becoming an idol would be shattered.

I decided to get a glass of water and headed to the shared living room. I could see Yujin sitting on the couch, the only source of light coming from his phone screen. He didn't look up as I entered, lost in thought.

"Can't sleep either?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up, surprised to see me there. "What are you doing up?"

"I needed a glass of water," I said, filling up a cup from the kitchen.

He shrugged, going back to his phone. I stood there awkwardly for a moment, not sure what to say. I could feel the tension between us, the unspoken attraction that we both tried to ignore.

Yujin dropped his secret phone and walked toward me. He sat down at the kitchen counter. It was still semi-dark in here so I could barely see those brown eyes. But I did see his sarcastic scowl.

"So what is it this time, the pending new group distribution? Your roommates? Is it too cold in your room or something?"

The bastard always had something to say. I guess he must have heard me complain to Billie the other day.

"For someone who doesn't like me, you sure as hell are paying a lot of attention to the things I'm saying, Yujin!"

My voice raised a little and I snapped my arms close to my body, trying to shield myself from his dark energy.

"You know, for someone who's ranked one-star, you sure do complain a lot," Yujin said suddenly, still not looking up from his phone. "I don't even need to be near you to hear the complaints coming from you in waves."

I bristled at his words. "Excuse me?"

"Maybe if you spent more time practicing and less time worrying about your rank, you'd be better," he continued.

"Are you serious right now?" I asked, my voice rising in anger. "You don't know how hard I've been working. You don't know anything about me."

"I know enough," he said, finally looking up at me with a sneer. "You're just not cut out for this. You don't have what it takes."

I felt a lump form in my throat, tears threatening to spill over. I knew Yujin could be mean, but this was a new low. "You don't know anything about me," I repeated, my voice shaking.

He stood up, towering over me. "Oh, I know plenty. I know you're not as good as the rest of us. I know you're holding us back."

I took a step back, feeling like I was about to fall apart. "Why are you being like this?"

"Like what? Honest?" he spat. "Someone needs to tell you the truth. You're not going to make it, Choonhae. You're not good enough."

I felt like I had been punched in the gut. All the insecurities I had been trying to ignore came flooding back, overwhelming me. "Maybe you're right," I whispered, feeling defeated.

Yujin's expression softened slightly, but he still looked angry. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice quieter. "I didn't mean to say it like that. But you need to understand that this is a competition. Not everyone can make it."

"I know that," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I didn't mean to upset you. I'm just frustrated. This whole thing is stressful and it's getting to me."

"I know how you feel," I said, my voice small. "But you don't have to be mean about it."

He looked at me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. "I know," he said finally. "I'll try to be better. I just... I don't know how to deal with all of this."

I nodded, feeling a bit of the anger and hurt starting to dissipate. "Me neither," I admitted. "I just want to do my best and make it through this."

"I know," he said, his tone softer. "I'm sorry for what I said. You're not holding us back. I'm just... scared, I guess. Scared that I won't make it."

I nodded again, feeling like we were finally starting to understand each other. "Me too," I said quietly.

We sat there in silence for a few moments. This passive-aggressive conversation actually turning out to be some form of progress.

As I walked back and left him to his brooding loneliness, I just had another weird fear jutting up inside of me. Please don't let me be drafted in a group with him. I was sure that couldn't end well.