IDOL SURVIVAL - Chapter 5 (EARLY ACCESS) (Patreon)

Pick Me Up

The dorm was even quieter the second night. It wasn’t the reduced number of girls filling the space, but the heavy weight of loss and grief. A soundproof blanket laid over them. There was less crying now, and more blank stares. Sami couldn’t bear to look at their dull eyes. It was exhausting to imagine the pain struggling to process behind them. She took herself to bed early and laid awake all night.

In the early hours before the dawn, sniffles could be heard in the distance, muffled by blankets or palms. Sami let herself cry, too. Just a little. Just this once.

The production team were scrambling for content. With the loss of almost a third of their contestants, they were lining up the living for special interviews, talent segments, filming of extra performances the girls had prepared prior to entering the show. Anything to fill the next week’s episode that didn’t involve losing too many more of their show ponies.

Good, Sami thought bitterly. Give these poor girls any more time they can get, even if it means being paraded about like prize animals. Did she have any special talents? She had been asked five times. Could she sing while balancing things on her head? Did she have any skill with unique or traditional instruments? What celebrity impressions did she have in her repertoire?

Every question was answered in the negative, much to the frustration of the producers. Sami had only the tragic back story of a failed girl group to fill her segments. They would stuff it with shots of the funeral, of Hyorin’s family sobbing by her photo. Anything to tug at the viewers’ heart strings. The media could never let the dead rest, not if there was a chance they could squeeze a drop more drama out of a tragedy.

So she wished she had a special skill, but she also knew if it came down to broadcasting a clip of her singing with a water bottle balanced on her head or a funeral, they wouldn’t use her song anyway.

Sami swallowed a sigh as she reached the front of the interview queue.

“Hello! I’m AeRi, your faerie!” sang the woman currently in the seat. She was immaculate. Ankles tucked beneath her seat lead to long, shiny legs. Her waist was tiny and her chest modest, covered by her Idol Survival uniform without a single wrinkle to be found. Her hair was unusually long, and the top half was braided and then bowed into a pair of loops at the back of her head. Bright make-up lit up her face with carefully placed gems at the peaks of her cheeks.

Sami’s make-up was just about covering her dark under-eye circles.

“My favourite foods are sweets!” AeRi giggled girlishly. “But I always make sure to brush my teeth afterwards!” Gleaming white teeth beamed at the camera.

Sami wondered if AeRi’s well-trained camera personality was the result of delusion at her circumstances… or a coping mechanism she was clinging to after witnessing so many murders in quick succession. Either way, the camera, and the producers, loved her.

After her own interview, far less playful and excitable than AeRi’s, Sami headed to the cafeteria for lunch. Unless they were called upon by producers to film some piece of extra content, they were free to practice, rest or eat. Sami hadn’t eaten after the storm simulator stage, she doubted anyone had. She was provided with a bowl of rice, a smaller bowl of meat, and a selection of side dishes. At one of the many empty tables, she sat and stared at her food for a few minutes before she could find the will to lift her hand and begin eating.

The number of remaining contestants was blaring from screens in various communal areas: sixty-three. Almost thirty girls had been dragged off that storm simulating stage in three minutes. The number bore into her even when she kept her eyes down on the tray, the light from the screens creeping in at the corners of her vision.

The clatter of additional trays raised her eyes.

Jun and Myeong gave her weary smiles and sat opposite. They had prettied themselves since the last time she saw them: staggering to bed after surviving the stage. No doubt attempting to pull themselves together for the interviews and special stages. The more screen time, the better.

Jun’s bangs were full, freshly washed and blow-dried with longer sections framing her small, pointed face. The rest of her hair had been tied back in a bouncy ponytail. She watched Sami in her quiet and curious way. Sami smiled at her, hoping to reassure.

Myeong was also watching her, but with concern scrunching her brows above her blue-grey contact lenses. Her long bob became asymmetrical when she tilted her head in silent question: are you okay?

She nodded, although she wasn't sure. Some girls were crumbling completely, and she wouldn't drop herself into that category. She wasn't shining like AeRi, pushing through with a bright resilience. Sami was somewhere in between, forced to wallow in her feelings without being able to detach, or fall apart and stop caring about anything else that happens.

Because the girls in front of her needed her. So many had their eyes on her as someone to guide and lead them in challenges, and worse than letting herself down would be to let them feel abandoned.

She nodded again, enthusiastic with resolve, and stuffed her mouth full of rice. Energy and strength, if not for herself, then for the others.

Jun and Myeong beamed and dug in, too. That sight soothed Sami's insides just a little.

A figure shuffled into her eye line, approaching the table with uncertain steps. Pleated skirt fluttered to the edge of the table. Sami peeked to the side, taking in the timid-faced girl hovering at her side.

Blonde fluffy hair fell in loose waves to her shoulders and light brown eyes darted between the trio at the table. Pinned to her pink Idol Survival uniform was the number 23.

“Hello?” Sami greeted with a curious head tilt.

“Hello…” The girl dropped her eyes to her tray and seemed to draw a nervous breath. “May I sit with you?”

“Of course, there’s plenty of room.” Sami gestured to the empty space on the bench beside her. “What’s your name?”

“Chyou.” She slid in beside Sami, her small stature was swallowed up by Sami’s shadow. “And you?”

“Sami.”

The girls were eager to jump in and make another friend.

“I am Jun!”

“I’m Myeong.”

“Where are you from?” Sami asked between mouthfuls.

“China, but I moved here years ago when I passed the auditions for my agency.”

“Training ever since?”

Chyou nodded, eyes sad.

“I guess none of that matters anymore, right?” Myeong said, her cheerful tone felt just a little forced. “Let’s eat!”

Sami nodded encouragingly to Chyou, who looked like she needed to eat the most. A spark of anger prickled at the back of her skull as she thought of entertainment companies and their insane dieting regimes. When she had debuted, she was a fraction of the size she’d been when she had passed her audition, despite being three years older. In the four years since then, her original weight had crept up on her back. Delusions had fluttered at the edge of her mind at the most tense periods of her time as an idol. The mirror version of herself appearing ballooned and distorted under the shimmering, skin-tight costumes. But she liked to think she’d pushed past it since disbandment.

She ate heartily, knowing she needed strength more than cinching.

Despite the producers best efforts, a girl was lost for naming a sportswear brand she liked to wear during her interview. Sixty-two shone from the screens as they headed into the next week.