“Rachel,” Mr. Noh says, speaking to me directly.

I straighten up immediately. “Yes, Mr. Noh.”

“Why should we give you a second chance?”

My impulse is to look to Yujin, but I force myself to keep my eyes fixed on Mr. Noh. He only wants to hear from me right now. I take a deep breath, lifting my chin. “Because,” I say, “there’s no limit to how brightly I can shine. That video was just a taste. If you give me a second chance, I’ll work twice as hard and shine twice as bright. Give me three chances and it’ll triple. And I know there’s no one who can do this better than me.”

The room is silent. Mr. Noh leans back in his seat, his mirrored eyes boring into mine. I hold his gaze, standing tall. He nods in approval, a small smile playing on his face.

“Meeting dismissed,” he says.

I blink as the execs gather up their things. I glance at Mr. Han and then at Yujin, who both look just as confused as me.

“Wait!” I cry as Mr. Noh heads for the door. I realize I’m breaking all kinds of rules by addressing him, but I need to know. He turns, raising an eyebrow. “Does this mean I’m doing the duet with Jason?”

A wide smile spreads across his face. There’s a calculating tilt to it that makes goose bumps rise on my arms.

“Yes, Rachel,” he says. “You’ll be singing with Jason. But it won’t be a duet. It will be a trio. You, Jason… and Mina.”

A trio. I’m singing with Jason and Mina.

“Oh, and, Ms. Kim.”

My head snaps up. “Yes, Mr. Noh.”

He eyes turn steely and sharp, and he looks right at me. “I’m not in the habit of giving third chances. No matter how brightly you shine.”

* * *

On my way home, I nearly skip off the bus, stopping by Dunkin’ Donuts to pick up a treat for Leah. I get a box of glazed doughnuts and a strawberry banana smoothie, her favorite.

I feel like I’m in a dream, one that I don’t want to wake up from. I’m singing with Jason. I, Rachel Kim, am singing with Jason Lee! There’s a huge grin on my face, dampened only a little by the fact that Mina will also be singing with us. She wasn’t a part of my original equation.…

Whatever. That’s a problem for tomorrow.

I race up to the apartment. “Leah!” I yell as soon as I’m through the door. I kick off my shoes. “Unni’s home and I have your two favorite things. Snacks and gossip!”

I step into the living room and come to a sudden halt. Umma is sitting on the couch, her phone clasped in her hand so tightly, her knuckles are white. She narrows her eyes at me, her lips pressed into a hard line.

“Umma,” I say hesitantly, “you’re home early.” The look on her face makes my stomach churn. A thought flicks through my mind. Something’s happened with Appa. She’s found out about his law classes and she’s angry we’ve been keeping it a secret. I scramble for the words to explain, but she speaks first, her voice completely flat.

“Do you want to tell me what this is?” she says, holding up her phone.

I walk forward slowly, Leah’s smoothie sweating in my hand. A video is playing on Umma’s phone. Not just any video. A video of me.

And it’s not the one that just went viral.

It’s me at the trainee house party, clothes so drenched in what can only be alcohol and sweat that you can see my bra straight through my tank top. I’m totally out of it, laughing at nothing and dancing on the table with a champagne bottle in one hand and a bright-green Tupperware in the other. I notice Umma’s eyes narrow in on the container as Lizzie and Eunji egg me on in the background of the video, whistling and hooting. God. I can’t even call it dancing. I’m flailing my arms and legs and making a total fool of myself. I have no memories of this at all. What the fuck did Mina put in that drink?

I flash back to the party. To falling asleep on the couch and seeing Mina from across the room, her phone pointed directly at me. I gulp, my throat so tight I can barely speak.

“Umma, where—”

“Someone texted me this video today,” she says quietly, her eyes burning.

I swallow hard. I should have known Mina wouldn’t stop at just drugging me and ruining my audition. I open my mouth to say something, but Umma holds up her hand. “Before you try to explain yourself. Just tell me. Is this the trainee house?”

I stare down at the floor, completely silent. I nod once.

“And did I or did I not tell you that you are not allowed to go to the trainee house?”

“You did tell me,” I whisper, my voice raw.

“So you lied to me when you said you were going to study with the Cho twins. And then you went to a place I explicitly told you not to go. And then you got out-of-your-mind drunk and put on a strip show in front of your good-for-nothing K-pop friends?”

I look up, tears in my eyes. “Umma, please, it’s not what you think it is.”

“Why are you crying?” she snaps, raising her voice. I cower back. I’ve never seen her so mad before. “What have you done to deserve to cry? Tears are for the sorrowful, but you’re not even sorry.”

“I am!” I cry. “I am so sorry for lying. And I’m sorry that you had to find out this way. I never even imagined—”

“What do you think your father will say when he sees this? He’s going to be heartbroken.” She shakes her head, her voice catching. “I knew this K-pop world would be a bad influence. It’s poisoning you.”

“It’s not,” I insist. Tears are streaming down my face now. I desperately try to wipe them away, but I can’t get them to stop. “Please, Umma, just let me explain.”

“When did my daughter become such a disgrace? How can you live with yourself like this? Huh, Rachel? You’re out of control!”

In the midst of my guilt and regret, I feel another emotion swell to the surface. Anger. Can’t she even give me a moment to explain myself? She’s supposed to be my mother. She’s supposed to be on my side.

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t have had to lie if you tried to be supportive for once! The whole reason we moved here was so I could train, but you act like it’s just some hobby I’ve had for the last six years.” I explode. “You think I wanted to sneak out behind your back? I had to do it because of you and your rules. I had to give myself a fighting chance at being noticed by the execs. And I succeeded, by the way. Most parents would be proud that their daughter is going to be singing with Jason Lee in his next single.” I stop abruptly, out of breath.

A look of surprise crosses her face. “You got the duet?”

“It’s not a duet anymore, but yes.” I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “I did.”

“Well… congratulations, Rachel. I know how badly you wanted that.” She stiffens. “But it doesn’t change what you had to do to get it. This industry is toxic.”

“It’s not toxic, Umma. It’s competitive. It only accepts the best from people.”

Umma lets out a disbelieving laugh in one short breath. “The best from people?” She holds up her phone. “So this is your best? You, drunk and making a spectacle of yourself in front of everyone you train with?”