IDOL SURVIVAL - Chapter 10 (EARLY ACCESS) (Patreon)

We are a bit different

Death had stalked Chyou for a week, wasting away in bed during the weight challenge. Only Sami’s belief had saved her. Sweet, strong Sami. Death had been on the tip of her tongue through mic roulette, stumbling over songs in a language she’d only started learning since she signed with her agency. Conversational Korean, not the flowery, poetic lyrics that were found in love songs. Only Sami’s patience had saved her, training one-to-one late into the night. And now, in only their third week of knowing one another by name. Chyou’s weakness had Sami on the verge of a heart attack. She hid it well, their graceful and collected leader. But she could feel the concern in her touch when they trained, correcting her posture or straightening her limbs gently. Constant cardio was their course of action, with a twelve-hour rest planned before the real challenge began: a dance to the death.

Her agency had put zero emphasis on skill or stamina, all that mattered was she stayed thin and pretty. Thin wasn’t a choice Chyou made for herself; her family never had quite enough to go around. The recruiter loved it, though. They said it was chic and trendy to see bones protruding. The pretty part… Chyou tried not to think what the managers were saying as they monitored the daily broadcasts.

No make-up? What has she done to her hair? Are those sweat stains? At least she was still skinny. Sami wouldn’t allow that for long. She piled her meal tray for her: lots of rice, meat and vegetables. Determined to drag her along to the end of the competition.

And... it warmed Chyou. She hadn't felt affection like it in so long. For the first time since being scouted, she was being cared for instead of dictated to. Guilt panged in her stomach at Sami's constant concern as well, she didn't mean to worry her with her weakness... but it also... felt so nice. Having her meals sat opposite someone who cared that she finished her plate, stretching together and feeling the careful push of Sami's hands at her back and calves, sharing a dorm and knowing there was always someone there who would listen to her.

And she needed to listen to Sami, if she wanted to survive.

Time was impossible to track naturally since entering the custom-built compound that made up Idol Survival’s set. When the girls were pushing themselves to the brink, dodging sleep and hopefully death, they voiced conspiracies that the producers played with the clocks. When you had been working your body to that level of exhaustion, it was easy to believe your eyes when the second hand seemed to speed up, slow down, reverse…

At what they believed to be three in the morning, Chyou and Sami remained in the training room. Minji had just retired for a few hours of sleep, and the final pair promised they would follow soon.

The exhaustion pressing down on Chyou’s body had her staggering around the training room, but she didn’t want to quit, not while Sami was still going. She had to show her she didn’t need to worry. They would be among the last ones standing. Sopa’s passing had hit Sami hard. Actually, every death hit her harder than the last. Being well-liked was its own burden when the faces looking to you with a smile fade away. The worst thing she could do was be another dead name to Sami. Chyou exerted herself every day since the weigh-in to lighten the load of loss on her shoulders.

Sami patted her back with a knowing smile, and Chyou slumped a little against her with a sigh.

“You shouldn’t push yourself too hard,” Sami murmured.

“Mmm. You too.”

Her shoulder was squeezed, warm and comforting. “That’s enough for today.”

Chyou tried not to show her relief too obviously on her face, and followed Sami like a sleepy puppy back to the dorms.

Tucked up in bed, she dreamed of debuting, if only to be able to hang out with friends whenever she liked. And see her family. Once you make the giant leap from trainee to rookie, your life opened up. At least, that’s what she figured… idolhood couldn’t possibly be as life-restricting as the trainee contract that had her bound to her company’s basement. She had been a trainee for so long, and so far from her family, she wondered if her contract might have been up soon anyway… No one would have told her if it was, she reckoned.

She and Minji had been passed up for a number of girl groups formed by their company. Chyou was usually sidelined for a different ‘foreign’ member (the company feared the wrath of netizens if they placed more than one non-Korean in an idol group) and Minji was always told she’d do better solo… The solo debut hadn’t come. Now the company had too many partially-active groups, not enough money to sustain lacklustre comebacks, and no means to debut Chyou or MInji, solo or otherwise. Their dream sat solely with Idol Survival now. Not that Chyou was sure her dream even was music anymore… just… a little freedom.

The next challenge was only a few days away, another hurdle between her and her dream.

Dance when the music plays, and don’t stop until it falls silent. So simple, a game children would play, except they would keep dancing until only thirty girls stood on stage.

There were forty-eight girls remaining in the competition. With such a high demanded loss, Chyou’s entire friend group could be wiped out in one test. All but one were new friends, and she hadn’t had enough time with any of them.

Sami… was special. Friend wasn’t quite the right word, except maybe around others.

In private, there was a pull between them like string that Chyou had never felt with anyone else. It was warm and pulsing and came from the bottom of her tummy. And when Sami’s fingers spread over her back as they stretched, it burned. Sometimes her touch lingered, and Chyou hoped only in those moments that she didn’t look as hideous as she felt. That maybe, Sami’s fingertips remained on her a little longer because she saw some beauty in her.

Chyou slipped to sleep with the older girl’s touch ghosting her skin.

The next day, all contestants were summoned to the brightly-lit main stage; no explanation as to what for except to dress in the signature pink uniforms they’d been handed in orientation. An announcement was coming. It wouldn't be anything joyous or exciting... Chyou had learned not to hope anymore.

“Surprise!” the Host called to the cameras. The word sent a cold shock to Chyou’s heart. His teeth were so white, feral, it was almost as intense as the lights, they felt like a magnifying glass held high over a group of ants, performing for their lives. “I hope you’ve been training hard, idol survivors, because your dance to the death has been brought forward.”

The gritting of Sami’s teeth could be heard by every girl in a six-foot radius. Some of them flinched. Chyou risked a glance and was met with pure, blazing fury. Except the fiery fury wasn’t looking back at her, but up at the Host.

He beamed out at the crowd, ensuring the active cameras caught his jawline at the right angles with subtle head tilts. “In just an hour’s time, you will return here to take part in the most tiresome task you’ve faced so far!” Every challenge was the most tiresome so far when they only got more sleep-deprived and distressed with each passing week, Chyou thought bitterly. “This will be a live event, so ensure to put your best foot forward, then backward, and - well, I’m sure you don’t need dance tuition from me.” He winked at a camera that was panning around him, following the movement with his cheekbone. “Good luck, girls!”

They were dismissed to change into themed outfits like the dress-up-and-destroy dolls the producers viewed them as. The girls streamed through the corridors, whispering and whimpering about their preparedness. A painful grip yanked Chyou very suddenly through the crack of an unassuming door. It was shut behind her.

“Sami?” she gasped.

In the dark closet she could just about make out Sami’s face hovering over hers. Her hands braced either side of her shoulders on the door and lowered her forward until their lips met in a clumsy mash.

It was Chyou’s first kiss. It was the best kiss, even if she had no one to compare it with. It was a kiss she wished would never end. Messy and filled with nervous energy. Each girl discovering the other in a new, incredible way. Teeth bumped and tongues brushed each other, uncertain. Was this how it worked? It sure felt nice. Chyou had never considered how hot the inside of other people’s mouths would be, Sami’s was a sauna for her to relax into, until, all too suddenly, she pulled away.

She only made it half an inch back, their panting filling the tiny space. “I-” She gasped and tried again. “I’m sorry, Chyou, I just… I had to-” She sighed. “I have so much I want to say and they are always finding a way to take away my chance to say it.” Those last four words sounded as close to a sob as Chyou had ever heard Sami get.

With a painful, draining sensation, Chyou realised Sami only kissed her because she didn’t believe she would survive the challenge ahead. It was her taking a chance before it wasn’t there anymore. She did her best to push the hurt from her chest.

“I’m not sorry,” Chyou whispered. “And we’ll kiss again after the dance.” She said it like a threat more than a promise. Sami did not appear convinced.

“Take it easy out there,” she advised. “Remember what we practised, low energy movements to conserve yourself-”

“A marathon, not a sprint,” Chyou parroted. Sami had many mantras she offered the girls while they were training, and that was one of them. “We’re going to make it.” Her voice was thin, but her conviction strong. She hoped Sami could feel it.

Sami’s smile was sad, even in the dark. She pressed a soft kiss to Chyou’s forehead, murmured her love to her temple, and slipped out of the closet first.

There was no live audience, it turned out the viewers were tuning in online. The girls weren’t told how many, but the Host gave a recap of everything that had happened so far, the premise, the rules; his droning of old information had Chyou’s eyelids lulling a little… a perfect boring moment to relive the kiss-

“ARE WE READY, IDOL SURVIVORS?” the Host bellowed, as though hyping them up to take part in a weight-lifting championship.

The response was weak, only AeRi called back to him with the same vigour. There was mild annoyance on his features when he looked back over at his shoulder at them, and a sadistic grin when he yelled for the DJ to begin the music. He hopped off the stage to join the virtual audience, and the producers hiding behind cameras and lights.

The music genres were poppy and refreshing, just as Sami had predicted. Chyou bopped next to her, barely moving her feet but swinging her hips and doing small hand movements in time to lyrics about young love and cherry blossoms. All the girls from their friend group were doing the same, just as Sami had taught them.

Aeri was putting on a one-woman show, front and centre. Everyone else gave her the space she desired and focused on keeping themselves alive. It would be a long day. Maybe days.

A giant clock that displayed numbers formed from light bulbs counted each passing second, then minute, then hour.

Sami had guessed they would swap from cheery, cutesy music to either girl crush or sexy songs after a couple of hours, to ramp up the difficulty. It was harder to play at dancing minimally with songs that had harder tempos. They didn’t know for sure if a lacklustre performance could get them killed. Better to toe the line with miniscule toe-taps.

It was pounding beats filled with rapping and words Chyou had never learned in her agency classes that came next. And within the first song at this new difficulty level, two girls were OUT. The Host shouted so loudly he could be heard over the music rattling the floor beneath their feet. Blood seeped slowly between the panels of it, dark red grouting.

Instead of jumping up and down, as Sami had told them they would be tempted to do for this type of music, she switched to wide steps and hip-popping movements with a side of hair-tossing. Their girls continued to plow through while more fell. It was exhausting, and sweat was dripping off the end of Chyou’s nose and fingertips, but she could prove Sami wrong just once; their leader who was always right.

When they did reach the sexy songs, Chyou’s body was burning, her stomach was churning, and a light-headedness was scaring her. If she fainted, she’d be dead before she hit the ground. She lowered herself, swinging her thighs open and closed in what she hoped was a sensual display, and danced on her knees for a bit, using exaggerated arm movements to cover the secret reprieve. Sticky blood splatters clung to her skin, nauseating her that little more. She hopped back up quickly, uncertain of whether that had been against the rules.

No shot came for her and she continued dancing at Sami’s side. Many more zipped past her, claiming girls in all directions. Not Sami, she kept checking. Sami was making it look so easy…

When her hands passed her face, she could see the tremble of fatigue in them. A girl to her right had stumbled to the floor, convulsing, but the bullet to the head quickly put her out of her distress. Chyou figured that was all she could hope for her own death: painless and quick.

This challenge was neither painless, nor quick, and they were only at the tenth hour. There was no way to count how many girls remained and gauge how much longer the torture could possible go on for, instead, Chyou let her eyes soften and her future come into focus.

Her family, who would look so different now. The children taller and the elders wrinklier.

Her new friends, and all the fun places they could go.

Sami.

A gunshot that rang far too close for comfort shocked Chyou into a stumble that she played out as fancy, jumpy footwork. It either flew under the radar, or passed for dancing, because she was still alive when that song ended and another begun. They were closing in on hour twelve…

A bell rang out, halting the music but not the girls, and the Host leapt back up onto the stage. “CONGRATULATIONS!” he shouted, as though the music had been loud enough to deafen. “We have our top thirty survivors standing here on stage, and they should be so proud of what they’ve accomplished.”

Chyou wasn’t proud, she was too scared to stop swaying and lifting her feet. Kind hands took her shoulders and pulled her close with a reassuring squeeze, forcing her still. Sami’s eyes looked down at her with tears. Chyou smiled back, weary.

Neither listened to the Host’s spiel to the viewers, thanking sponsors, and all the other unimportant things he had to read off a teleprompter. They stared into each other’s eyes and shared the relief and bliss that they had the possibility of just a little more time together.

When they were finally excused, Sami pulled her by the hand as far from the main stage as possible. They hurried through the corridors on trembling legs and reached the dance practice rooms. Sami closed the door behind her and immediately began to release her frustration at the whole production.

“It's not fair that they didn't give us time to prepare. They know exactly what they're doing and I hate it!” She followed Chyou into the middle of the room. They were both still in full hair, make-up and costumes from the challenge. Both blood spattered. And she still looked so beautiful, even under the harsh studio lighting. “The rule changing and the surprises.” She groaned. “Trying to wear us down-”

“Sami, we both made it,” Chyou reminded her gently. “Let's not spend more energy being angry about it.” It was all unfair, being upset about it wouldn’t change it.

Sami’s eyes began to water again. She cradled Chyou’s face in her hands. “I was so scared.” A broken whisper that pricked at Chyou’s eyes, too.

“You're the strongest girl here-”

“Not for me.”

Chyou looked away. She thought she had proven herself today, finally, that she had just as much will to survive as anyone else now. “I'm weak, I know-”

“You're not weak,” Sami argued. She forced Chyou’s face up to lock their eyes again. Her expression was stern, despite the pain in her eyes. “You're soft and sweet and delicate.” She pressed her lips together for a moment, and a pair of tears raced one another down her cheeks. “There's something so special about that, and I hate that they're trying to crush you because of it.”

Despite her burning calves and swollen feet, Chyou launched herself up onto her tiptoes to kiss Sami’s pain away.