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Liliana's POV

I woke up to an empty apartment.

Chan must have left in the middle of the night, probably around midnight. I stretched lazily, feeling well-rested despite everything that had happened the night before. The apartment was silent, save for the distant hum of the city outside.

After lying there for a few moments, I finally rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom. The moment I stepped inside, I took a second to admire just how beautiful the place was. The bathroom, like the rest of the apartment, was sleek and modern-white marble countertops, a glass shower with matte black fixtures, and soft lighting that made it feel like something straight out of a luxury hotel.

I took my time freshening up, enjoying the warm water against my skin. When I finished, I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and stepped into the bedroom, quickly throwing on a simple outfit-black jeans, a cropped sweater, and my favorite sneakers.

Moving to the kitchen, I was once again hit with appreciation for how modern everything was. It wasn't big, but it had everything-sleek cabinets, stainless steel appliances, and even a small espresso machine. I made myself a quick cup of coffee, sipping it as I stood by the window.

For a brief moment, I allowed myself to soak it all in. The fact that this was my place now. That I had an actual apartment in Seoul, even if it still felt surreal.

But I didn't have time to dwell on it. Today, I needed to see JYPE's management.

Grabbing my bag, I stepped out of the apartment complex and into the crisp morning air. The streets were already buzzing with people heading to work, cars honking, and shops opening up for the day.

As I walked, I caught sight of a man ahead of me. He was walking in my direction, and for some reason, he looked oddly familiar. I couldn't quite place it, but something about him nagged at my memory.

Just as I tried to get a better look, he abruptly pulled up a face mask, turned his head, and walked away in the opposite direction.

Weird.

I frowned, watching him disappear into the crowd.

Where had I seen him before?

Shaking off the feeling, I continued my way to JYPE.

---

At JYP Entertainment

The moment I stepped into the building, something felt off.

I walked straight to the front desk, expecting to head upstairs like I always did. But when I asked to see Mr. Yang, the receptionist gave me a blank look.

"You must book an appointment," she said.

I blinked. "An appointment?"

"Yes." She glanced at her computer. "And you need a company ID to enter beyond this point."

I stared at her. "I... don't have a company ID."

She sighed. "Then I'm afraid you cannot go in. You're no longer a trainee here."

Embarrassment and frustration curled in my chest.

This was new. I used to be able to walk in without any issues. Was this their way of officially cutting me off?

I inhaled sharply, trying to keep my emotions in check. "Okay. Thank you."

I stepped out of the building, frustration still bubbling in my chest from the way the staff had treated me. Having to book an appointment? Being told I needed a company ID? It was ridiculous. Just a few weeks ago, I could walk in and out freely. Now, it was like I didn't exist to them.

I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the irritation, when I spotted three figures walking toward me.

A bag. Two goons.

And Queenie.

Oh, for God's sake.

I immediately turned my gaze forward, pretending not to see them. Maybe, just maybe, if I acted like I didn't notice, they'd keep walking.

But of course, Queenie was never that easy to deal with.

Her furious voice cut through the air.

"You bitch!"

I stopped mid-step, sighing before turning to face her.

Queenie's eyes were red-rimmed, her makeup slightly smudged-like she'd been crying. The small suitcase at her side and the way her hands clenched the strap of her bag told me everything I needed to know.

She was leaving.

Her two minions, who normally flanked her with arrogant smirks, now looked lost. They weren't smiling anymore. They weren't sneering.

They were angry.

And it was all directed at me.

"This is all your fault," Queenie spat, her voice shaking with rage. "You're the reason JYPE discharged me!"

One of her goons chimed in. "If you hadn't made such a big deal out of everything, the company wouldn't have investigated her!"

The other sneered. "You ruined everything!"

A slow grin crept onto my face.

Oh, this is good.

I let out a short laugh, tilting my head. "Wow. That's interesting," I said mockingly. "Because I distinctly remember you bullying and shaming me for getting fired. And yet-" I gestured dramatically at her suitcase. "Look who's getting kicked out too."

Queenie's face burned with fury. "You don't belong here, Liliana," she hissed. "You never have and you never will. Just get the hell out of Korea. Go back to Nigeria and live in poverty like the rest of those Africans."

My smirk vanished.

For a second, I just stared at her, my blood running hot.

Then, I let out a slow, unimpressed breath and crossed my arms. "It's so embarrassing to see someone who claims to be educated talking like this."

I tapped my chin. "Oh, wait..." I let my eyes widen in mock realization. "Didn't you not finish high school?" I clicked my tongue. "No wonder you're so daft."

Queenie let out a sharp inhale, her nostrils flaring.

But I wasn't done.

"Since you seem to love talking out of your ass," I continued smoothly, "let me educate you a little." I stepped forward, watching her shrink back just slightly. "My father is a millionaire in Nigeria. He's a top manager at a Big Four accounting and audit firm, earning millions a month. My mother owns a retail chain with almost fifty branches all over Western Nigeria." I cocked my head. "You think I'm suffering? You think Africa is all poverty and struggle?" I let out a sharp laugh. "Some Africans are richer than an entire country."

Her lips parted slightly, and for the first time, she looked stunned.

I kept going.

"And the funny thing is," I said, voice dripping with mock sympathy, "at least Africans have the right attitude. We're friendly, interesting, bright, colorful." I lifted a shoulder. "Korea's cute too, I guess. But damn, people here are cold."

I tilted my head at her. "Kind of like you."

Her fists curled, but her goons stepped in before she could do anything.

"Say whatever you want," one of them sneered. "It doesn't change the fact that you don't even have a job. You'll still get deported once your visa expires."

I smirked. "That so?" I folded my arms. "I'll just try again and get something even better." I arched a brow. "Who says I need a K-pop company? I could go to Nigeria. South Africa. The UK. Brazil. Anywhere." I shrugged. "I have the money. What's stopping me?"

Queenie let out a mocking laugh, trying to regain control.

"How?" she scoffed. "You're nobody. No company wants you. What makes you think you're gonna make it?"

I smiled.

I loved when people asked me this.

"Because I know I'm going to be big." I met her gaze, unwavering. "Whether you like it or not. So you might as well start getting used to seeing my face."

At that moment, movement from the entrance caught my eye.

Jeongin and Seungmin were walking into the building, deep in conversation. They hadn't noticed me-or Queenie, for that matter.

I took that as my cue to end this conversation.

I turned back to Queenie and smirked. "Anyway, I'd love to stay and chat, but I actually have things to do." I cast a glance at her suitcase. "Unlike you."

Her face burned.

I gave her one last, satisfied look before smirking.

"Oh, and try not to break your toothpick arms carrying those bags."

Then, I turned on my heel and walked away, muttering cuss words under my breath as I left them fuming behind me.

Jeongin caught sight of me, his face lit up in surprise.

"Liliana?" He stopped in his tracks, giving me a once-over. "What are you doing here?"

I sighed, shoving my hands into my pockets. "I was trying to see Mr. Yang, but apparently, I need an appointment and a company ID just to step inside."

Seungmin let out an exaggerated groan, rolling his eyes. "Seriously? They're making you go through that now?"

"Right? It's insane." I crossed my arms. "I used to walk in here like I owned the place, and now I can't even get past the front desk."

Seungmin didn't even hesitate. He turned to the receptionist, flashed his ID, and requested a guest pass. A few seconds later, he grabbed the card and handed it to me without a word.

I blinked at him. "That easy?"

He shrugged. "You just have to know the right people."

I grinned, taking the pass. "Well, remind me to keep you around."

"Ugh," he groaned. "Don't get used to it."

Jeongin laughed, shaking his head. "Come on, let's go inside."

As we walked into the building, Jeongin glanced at me. "How's everything going? Your apartment, I mean. Settling in okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah. It's nice. Not too big, but modern and comfortable."

Seungmin gave me a look. "And your health?"

I exhaled. "I'm fine, Seungmin. No injuries, no breakdowns, still alive."

He nodded in approval. "Good."

Jeongin shoved his hands into his pockets. "You know, we've actually been looking into ways to get you back in the industry."

I slowed my steps, glancing between the two of them. "Wait, seriously?"

Seungmin smirked. "Of course. You think we'd just forget about you?"

I felt a warmth spread through my chest, but I kept my expression neutral. "Well, considering how quickly the company locked me out, it felt like everyone had moved on."

Jeongin shook his head. "Not us. We've been keeping our ears open, seeing if there are any good opportunities for you."

Seungmin nodded. "It's not going to be easy, but if you're serious about this, we'll help however we can."

I tightened my grip on the guest pass, determination settling in my gut.

If they were willing to help, then maybe-just maybe-I still had a chance.

After thanking Seungmin and Jeongin, I made my way to the administrative floor. My grip on the guest pass tightened as the elevator doors slid open, revealing the familiar sleek, corporate design of JYPE's upper levels. The walls were lined with awards, framed posters of their most successful idols, and pristine glass offices where executives made decisions that could make or break careers.

I walked down the hall and stopped in front of Mr. Yang's office. Taking a deep breath, I knocked once before pushing the door open.

He barely looked up.

Sitting behind his desk, he was flipping through a stack of documents, his other hand scrolling through his desktop screen. His expression was blank, his focus entirely elsewhere, like my presence was an afterthought.

I cleared my throat. "Mr. Yang, I came to ask about my visa status."

He exhaled through his nose, still not looking at me. "Your visa is renewed every two years. You still have nearly two years left in Korea. You should be grateful for that." His tone was clipped, dismissive.

I clenched my jaw. Grateful? They tore my career from me, locked me out of the company, and he expected gratitude?

He set the papers aside and finally met my gaze, looking every bit like a man who had already made up his mind about me. "If that's all, you can go now."

I refused to budge. "Is there anything I can do? Modelling? Acting? Do you know anyone who could help?"

For the first time, something flickered across his face-pity, maybe, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. "Look, I know your dismissal was unfair," he admitted, voice lower. "But you can't be retained here. Your reputation is too damaged, and the public doesn't like you."

I swallowed hard. I knew people didn't like me, but hearing it so bluntly made my stomach twist.

Mr. Yang leaned back in his chair. "You should consider modelling. I know someone at YG's modelling division. If I see her again, I could mention your name. But for now, you should go home and rest."

I scoffed. "Rest? Rest where? You kicked me out of the dorms in a country where I don't know jack squat! I don't know shit! I am alone here!" My voice rose with each word, frustration finally breaking through my restraint. "JYP is selfish! I should find a way to sue you all-"

A loud thud cut me off.

Mr. Yang slammed the document he was holding onto his desk, his sharp gaze pinning me in place. "I did not kick you out," he said, voice firm and unwavering. "JYPE did. Your dismissal was a joint decision made by the company's shareholders and board of directors. This was not personal."

I held my breath as he continued.

"You can try to sue, but your contract clearly states that we have the right to terminate you at any time for misconduct, reputational damage, or failure to meet performance standards-whether the issues arise during or after your training period." His tone was calm but absolute, like he was reciting a rulebook that had been set in stone.

I stared at him, my nails digging into my palms. Every word, every clause, every loophole they had covered-it was airtight.

I simply nodded once, my body stiff with frustration. Without another word, I turned on my heels and stormed out of the office, my heart pounding with a mixture of fury and helplessness.

**

I shut the door behind me and stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath. The morning had drained me. Queenie's words still rang in my ears, Mr. Yang's dismissiveness replayed in my head, and the weight of uncertainty pressed against my chest. It felt like everything was crumbling around me, yet here I was, still standing.

Shaking it off, I headed to the kitchen. If there was one thing I could control right now, it was food.

I grabbed a mug from the shelf, planning to make tea, but as I opened the cupboard, my eyes landed on a large carton shoved in the corner. I frowned and pulled it out. Pap powder?

My chest tightened.

I hadn't bought this.

Then it clicked. Chan.

A laugh-soft and disbelieving-slipped out. That man. I'd only mentioned once during our trip that I missed pap, and now here was an entire carton. Not a pack. Not a few. A carton. The ridiculous part was that he probably didn't even think much of it. Just another problem he could solve with a simple purchase.

I stared at it for a moment longer, something warm settling in my chest.

Shaking my head, I set it on the counter and got to work. I prepared a plate of toast and eggs, then mixed the pap, stirring until it thickened into the smooth, comforting texture I remembered. The scent alone pulled up memories of home-of slow mornings, my mother's voice in the background, the chatter of Lagos streets outside the window.

I sat down and took a spoonful. Warm. Familiar. A small piece of home in this foreign place.

I exhaled. Maybe today wasn't all bad.

After eating, I sank onto the couch, flipping through channels with no real interest. My thoughts drifted-what now? What next? I was still in Korea, still stuck. The uncertainty gnawed at me, but before I could spiral, my phone rang.

I glanced at the screen. Chan.

I hesitated, then answered, setting it on speaker. "You're up early."

"I could say the same for you," he chuckled, his voice familiar and easy, like a hand reaching out in the dark. "What are you up to?"

"Eating," I said, glancing at my empty plate. "And thanks for the pap, by the way. A whole carton?"

He laughed. "I figured if you missed it that much, you'd want a good supply."

I shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips despite everything. "Well, you weren't wrong."

A brief silence. Then his tone shifted.

"Hey, I saw an opportunity for you at YG Entertainment."

I sat up. "Oh?"

"It's for a solo artist," he explained. "They're looking for a foreign woman to promote to the Western market. They've interviewed over two hundred people already."

I frowned. "And?"

He sighed. "The terms aren't great. They'd control your entire look-your hair, your outfits, even your music. No creative freedom. And on top of that, you'd have to stay single for three years."

I let out a sharp breath. "Yeah, no. That's unfortunate, but I'm not doing it."

Chan exhaled, almost in relief. "Yeah... that condition made me iffy too." He hesitated, his voice quieter. "I mean, I want to date you."

The air in the room stilled.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

He wanted to-?

My heart pounded, caught between surprise and something I didn't want to name just yet.

Chan sighed. "I know, I know," he said quickly. "I'm being selfish. But I can't let you go there."

I swallowed hard, my mind scrambling to keep up. "I wasn't going anyway," I muttered, then switched to Pidgin. "YG wan control person too much. I be pet?"

His chuckle was soft, like he was smiling.

I cleared my throat and switched back to English. "Mr. Yang said he'd link me up with someone from YG's modeling division."

"That's something," Chan said. "But I'll keep looking."

Something in my chest loosened. "Thanks, Chan."

"Anytime."

I hung up and stared at my phone for a moment.

I pulled my phone off the couch and immediately dialed Sarah's number. The second she picked up, I didn't even let her say hello.

"Sarah! You won't believe what these useless people did to me!" I burst out, pacing around the living room.

"What happened?!" she demanded, her voice already on high alert.

I took a deep breath and spilled everything-how JYPE fired me, how Mr. Yang basically dismissed me, how Hybe tried seperate me from Chan and tried to scatter straykids, and how my career was hanging by a thread. The moment I finished, Sarah screamed.

"Thunder fire all of them! Jisos! Idiots, fools, olodos! If I catch any of them ehn, I go tear their eye!"

I cackled. "Sarah, please! Which eye you wan tear?!"

"All of them! Hybe? Hybe wey think say dem be god? Useless company! And JYPE? Rubbish and nonsense! May all their milk spoil, may their data finish when dem wan stream their useless music!"

I wheezed, doubling over in laughter. "Sarah, calm down before you curse their entire generation."

"E no concern me!" she shouted. "How you dey sef? No tell me say all this stress don dey give you depression."

I exhaled, shaking my head. "I'm fine. For real. I have my former teammates, Chan, and Straykids supporting me. I'm not alone."

Sarah was quiet for a moment, then her tone shifted, sly and knowing. "Ehen... Speaking of Chan, how far?"

I froze. "How far what?"

She clicked her tongue. "No do like say you no sabi. You and Chan don finally nack?"

I gasped. "Sarah! I'm Christian and you're supposed to be too"

"I am! Ah-ahn! What is all this enemies to lovers storyline? You mean to tell me after all this, you're still forming? Babe, abeg make we hear word."

I rolled my eyes. "Nothing dey happen, abeg. There are more important things in my life right now than dating."

Sarah sucked her teeth. "See this girl! You need the comfort of a broad shoulder to cry on. And Chan's shoulders broad die!"

I groaned. "I don cry for hin shoulder before, leave