The silence after the announcement was suffocating.
> "Only the TOP 10 will remain."
"The rest will be ELIMINATED."
The words echoed in Mirae's skull like a war drum.
Top 10.
There were still 32 trainees left.
And Mirae?
She had barely survived the last elimination. One vote. One plea. A technicality. She was the wild card—but now, even that felt like a curse disguised as mercy.
Across the room, Sumin was deathly quiet. Do-yoon clutched his practice notebook like it might keep him from drowning. Minchae's eyes were wide and glassy, blinking but unseeing.
Only Jiwon moved, calmly flipping through his practice folder, expression unreadable. The rest of Team C was frozen.
Mirae sat on her bed, her hands trembling in her lap.
"Top 10…" she whispered to herself, the words bitter on her tongue.
Not just survive—excel.
Outshine everyone.
Even the favorites.
Even Yoo Sera.
---
Training Center – Dance Room 1
The next morning, the energy had shifted.
The instructors wasted no time. Vocal drills were brutal. Choreography sessions bled into each other without rest. There was no "practice pace" anymore—only showtime.
Coach Rina clapped her hands sharply. "This isn't about growth. This is survival. You have three days. Three. Your next stage determines everything."
Mirae's ankle ached like fire. But she didn't flinch.
She nodded instead.
When Coach Rina called for solo run-throughs, Mirae was the first to step up.
It wasn't perfect.
She stumbled during a turn, her breathing tight. Pain bloomed sharp during her spin. But when the last beat dropped and she hit her final pose—sweat dripping, chest heaving—her eyes were full of defiance.
Coach Rina frowned. "You're injured. Again."
"I'm aware," Mirae said, voice hoarse.
"If you collapse on stage, no one's going to wait. You'll be cut live."
"I won't collapse."
The coach studied her for a long, silent moment.
Then she turned away. "We'll see."
---
Cafeteria – Lunch Break
Team C sat in silence at the edge of the cafeteria, their trays barely touched. Even their rice tasted like sawdust today.
Sunwoo finally broke the stillness.
"I heard it's live voting this time," he muttered. "Audience votes while we perform."
Minchae choked. "What?! You mean they can vote during the song?"
"Yeah. If we mess up even once in the first minute, we're done."
Sumin went pale. "Then... stage order matters. If we go early, people might forget us. If we go last, they'll be tired."
"Doesn't matter," Jiwon said flatly. "We don't get to pick. All that matters is making sure we're unforgettable."
The table fell silent.
Mirae slowly raised her head. "Then let's do something no one expects from Team C. No perfect act. No fake smiles. Just... fire. Raw and alive."
"But what if it's messy?" Minchae whispered.
Mirae met her gaze. "Then we'll be messy. But we won't be invisible."
---
That Night – Concept Meeting
The coordinator dropped off the demo files and left. "No help. No mentors. Choose wisely."
The studio dimmed, except for the glow of the screen listing possible songs.
Ballads. Dance tracks. Synth-heavy pop.
Nothing felt right.
Until Mirae clicked one of the lesser-played files. It started with a heartbeat. Then a soft inhale. Then a haunting drop.
The lyrics were blunt and unpolished:
> "They called me failure.
They called me fake.
But I was never yours to break."
Jiwon leaned in. "This one."
Do-yoon hesitated. "But the vocals are tough. And the second verse has fast rap."
"Then we learn it," Mirae said quietly. "We show them the version of us they haven't seen."
No one argued.
Not this time.
---
Day Two – Vocal Room
Mirae stood in the recording booth, gripping the mic. Her fingers trembled. Her throat was sore from practicing all night.
She opened her mouth.
"Flat," the vocal coach called immediately.
Again.
"Still flat. Your breathing is wrong. Reset. Again."
Again.
Again.
Her vocal cords screamed. But she didn't stop.
No one asked her to. Not even her teammates. They understood now—this was the war.
She stepped out of the booth drenched in sweat, notebook in hand, notes scribbled between gasps for air.
Next came choreography.
Then rap training.
Then lyrics work.
She did it all. Even while limping. Even while biting down tears.
Because she was afraid.
But she wasn't letting it win.
---
Night – Dorm Balcony
Mirae leaned against the rail, an ice pack tied to her ankle with a scarf. The city lights blurred beneath the night sky. Stars were drowned in neon and clouds—but she stared up anyway, searching for them.
Jiwon stepped beside her, two cups of hot water in hand.
"No tea left," he offered with a small shrug.
"I like it plain."
They stood in silence for a moment before he asked, "Why aren't you afraid?"
"I am," she said softly. "But I'm more afraid of disappearing than failing."
He watched her carefully. "Then let's not disappear."
---
Final Day – Dress Rehearsal
The studio was chaos.
Cameras rolled. Judges whispered. Producers circled like vultures.
Mirae adjusted her mic. The moment they'd trained for had arrived.
Team C stood in a line. Jiwon looked ahead. Minchae shook quietly but nodded. Do-yoon and Sumin gave her tiny smiles.
"Ten seconds!" the stage manager shouted.
Mirae inhaled.
Exhaled.
Closed her eyes.
When the lights hit, she stepped forward like it was her last day alive.
---
Live Stage – One Minute In
They weren't flawless.
But they were flames.
Mirae's high note pierced the silence—rough, aching, beautiful.
Do-yoon rapped like his life depended on it.
Minchae's voice cracked, but her eyes were fire. Jiwon's footwork drew shouts from the crowd. Sumin nearly tripped—but Mirae caught her wrist mid-spin, never breaking rhythm.
The final chorus thundered. Mirae stood in the center, arms open, eyes shining.
The crowd roared.
> "Voting open."
Their group name blinked on the big screen.
And climbed.
Rank 13.
Rank 11.
Rank 9.
Rank 8.
They screamed backstage.
They had done it.
For a moment—they were safe.
---
Backstage – One Hour Later
But victory came with sharp teeth.
The next unit took the stage—trainees backed by fan-favorite agencies.
Their votes skyrocketed.
Mirae watched the screen as their own score slipped.
8 → 9 → 10 → 11.
"No…" Minchae whimpered.
Next act. Another drop.
Now Rank 13.
By the end of the show:
> Final Ranking: Team C – Rank 14. Eliminated.
---
Cut to Black
Mirae couldn't speak. Couldn't cry. Couldn't breathe.
They weren't just low-ranked now.
They were erased.
Her fingers curled into fists as her teammates stared in silence.
Then—
"Han Mirae."
She turned.
It was the head producer, flanked by two judges.
"You're not going home," one said. "Not yet."
She blinked. "What do you mean?"
"There's one last opportunity. A final cut. You've been selected."
Mirae froze. "For what?"
"You'll battle one of the Top 10. A one-on-one stage."
Her breath hitched.
"If you win, you take their place."
"And if I lose?"
The judge's eyes were cold.
"You're gone. Forever."
📚 Author's Thoughts – From DarkInkQueen 💜
Thank you so much for reading Chapter 13: I'm Not Afraid! This chapter was an emotional turning point for Mirae and Team C, and it means the world to me that you've stayed with them through every tear, note, and step.
If you're enjoying Debut or Die, please take a moment to:
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Every bit of support helps me continue writing this journey for you. Let's keep climbing together—chapter by chapter, dream by dream.
With all my ink and heart,
– DarkInkQueen