Chapitre 1: Prologue
Two Years Ago
The end of my career came with the chime of cell phones. It was also very public.
When I think about it now, the timing of it was almost as malicious as the act itself. I'll never forget the hard feeling that formed in the pit of my stomach as I read the text and then the increasing nausea that rose in my throat as I pulled up the headlines and saw the pictures. My pictures.
My body, naked and very exposed splashed all over every social media site, my privacy and humiliation instantly becoming the top trending topic in all of Korea.
I was standing with my teammates, backstage at a broadcasting program, waiting for our call to come onstage and perform with fifty other idols and artists. I watched as one by one everyone in the room, the staff, the managers, every single one of my peers, everyone heard the news. I witnessed their faces when they saw the pictures, caught the shocked and darting looks in my direction. Felt the burning heat of shame in my cheeks as I was forced to witness every person in the building getting a glimpse of one of my most intimate moments exposed in real-time.
Yunseo, Hayze's leader at the time, turned around from her place at the front of the line and quickly made her way back to me. I don't remember breathing. At that point, I must've gone numb, blanked out in shock. I didn't hear her calling my name. When I blinked, Yunseo was steering me around by the elbow, hurrying me out of the backstage area and away from the scandalized whispers and shocked and probing eyes on my back.
"Let's get you out of here." She said, an arm around my shaking shoulders. Yunseo kept throwing glances back as she led me back to our dressing room. I didn't even realize the other four Hayze members were following until I heard Soyul behind us as Yunseo gently coaxed me to sit on the couch.
"Should we call the police? That can't be legal, right?"
Jia was suddenly crouching in front of me, a hard look in her eyes as she gripped my shoulders and made me look up at her.
"Iseul, who had those pictures? Do you know who could have released them?"
I didn't answer her. I squeezed my eyes shut and dropped my face into my hands, because I did know. I knew exactly who had those pictures, and I knew he had a motive to leak them. I just never would've believed he'd do it. That was foolish of me, I realize. You never really know what someone's capable of. Right up until that moment, I hadn't realized just how naïve I was to think it could never happen to me.
The dressing room door flew open, bouncing off the wall and making us all jump. In strode Manager Heo, and my stomach sank even lower when I saw the thunderous look on his face.
"Everyone but Iseul out, now," he growled, brow lowered.
The other girls scrambled up and hurried out, leaving me to my fate. Yunseo, to her credit, hesitated at the door, biting her lip and giving me an apologetic look. I nodded faintly at her and looked down at my feet as the door clicked shut.
"How could let this happen?" Manager Heo began, "How could you be so brash and careless!"
I said nothing. I found I couldn't open my mouth to reply, the words wouldn't come. All I could focus on was the hollow feeling in my chest and the angry buzzing sound in my ears. I felt as though I'd been struck by something. I realized only later that was how betrayal felt at first.
Manger Heo began to pace, "You realize how massive this is? This isn't just a scandal, it's a fucking catastrophe!"
I flinched. Manager Heo was normally a mild-mannered man, if a little bossy.
"You've ruined the reputation of the whole team. Tarnished the image of everyone that works for this company!"
It wasn't on purpose. I wanted to say, but didn't because I knew it wouldn't help.
"This will cost us thousands in damage control. Not to mention the producers are already talking about cutting Hayze from the show tonight."
I jerked my head up at that, staring at him. "They can't! I'll sit out. They don't need to cut out the whole team."
"It's not up to us," Manager Heo said, giving me a burdened look of disappointment that cut me to the bone with shame and made me drop my gaze.
He let out a sigh and from the corner of my eye, I saw him run a troubled hand through his hair.
"Go home. Manager Yoo will take you back to the dorms. Stay there until further notice. Don't go out without a manager. I need to talk to the higher-ups and see what is happening with the board. I'm not sure what will happen from here on out."
I bit my lip against the tears stinging my eyes and nodded mutely. I got up and gathered my things from the pile of our belongings, covering up my stage outfit and trying not to cry as I pulled pins from my hair and waited for Manager Yoo before I could leave the waiting room.
I kept my arms hugged around my middle and my head down as we walked toward the parking lot and our group van. I could still hear the hushed whispers of everyone we passed as we left. Even if I couldn't see their faces, I could hear the scorn in their voices. The judgement. Everyone knew, and everyone was looking at me like I was tarnished. Dirty.
I'd never felt so small as I sat in the back of the van alone and watched the broadcast station fade behind us, abandoning the weeks of hard work I'd put in with the girls practicing for that night's performance. Not knowing I was leaving my dreams in the rearview.
***
Silent words bounced off the walls of the empty dorm as I sat alone for hours reading the headlines and comments. A self-destructive thing to do, I'll admit, but I couldn't help it. It was all I could think about, the reality of it not really settling in yet. It was like I was watching the experience from outside myself. Those pictures that kept flashing across my screen couldn't be of me. Even though I remembered the moment they were taken in startling clarity.
Every headline mocked me from my computer screen.
HAYZE MEMBER KWON ISEUL NUDE PICTURES EXPOSED.
KWON ISEUL'S NUDE PICTURES LEAKED TO MEDIA DURING MUSIC PROGRAM.
STATEMENT FROM HIGH TUNE ENTERTAINMENT EXPECTED AFTER KWON ISEUL NAKED PICTURES LEAKED.
HAYZE PERFORMANCE ON KNBC MUSIC CANCELLED AFTER KWON ISEUL LEAK.
Reading the articles and seeing the pictures, over and over again should have been enough, but in the way of a frog in a pot of boiling water, I naturally went to the comments.
User9987: Wahhh, she's shameless. Why would you take those kind of photos when you're an idol??
User00923: This is the end of her career for sure. How can someone come back from that?
User44590: No one's going to want to pay to see her with clothes on now that they've seen her with them off for free kekeke
User8970: Isn't this revenge porn? That's a crime to release those photos.
User33567: Why would you take such a risk as an idol? Even normal people know not to take nude photos anymore. You can't trust anyone.
User23098: I wish the photos were better quality ☹
User77634: She must sleep around a lot. If the police haven't been contacted yet she probably doesn't remember who has the pictures XD
User35699: She looks like she'd be wild in bed.
I heard the girls return near ten. And even from my room I could tell they were avoiding me. Despite my absence, their performance had been canceled. I caught a glimpse Jia and some of the others as they passed my room through the cracked door. They avoided my eyes and silently crept past my room. Soyul met my gaze for half a second and then quickly looked away, making me feel somehow worse.
I shut my laptop and got into bed as I listened to the other girls wash up and bed down. I shared a room with Nayoon, so I pulled the covers over my head and turned off the lamp on my side of the room before she came back from the shower. I needn't have bothered. I was awake when Nayoon came back, and she didn't even pause before crawling into her bed and turning off her own light. I wondered if she'd even glanced in my direction. I couldn't blame them, any of them. I'd just put their careers in jeopardy as well. Still, it hurt, a little, that no one had bothered to ask me if I was okay.
Two days later I sat at the end of a long-polished table in a big conference room at the main office of High Tune entertainment, nervously tapping my fingers on the table while manager Heo and I waited.
My gut twisted as the conference room door opened and the board members of High Tune filed into the room taking their seats around the table. They looked down their noses at me, all of them stone-faced and silent old men. I could feel the weight of their judgment on my shoulders as prominent as a physical presence.
The CEO Mr. Hong cleared his throat and folded his hands in front of him, staring me down from the other end of the table.
"Miss Kwon, we've asked you here today to discuss—"
"I want to press charges." I declared, cutting him off and earning me some dirty looks from the other board members. It wasn't polite, but I wanted to get my piece in before the lectures and condemnation began, and my nerves were making me impulsive.
Mr. Hong blinked and pinched his brows together. "Charges?" he repeated.
"Against the person who leaked my pictures. I know who it is and revenge porn is a crime. I'd like to press charges," I told them, keeping my spine straight and my gaze steely.
A few of the board members glanced at each other. Someone coughed. Beside me, Manager Heo was grinding his teeth. Mr. Hong frowned at me like I'd said something unnecessary.
"It has already been decided that no legal action will be taken in regards to the photo leak."
It was High Tune's lawyer, seated halfway between me and Mr. Hong, who spoke up. I gaped at him and then glanced at Manager Heo, who looked away from me at the ceiling.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Our legal and PR teams have already conferred on the matter and it has been decided that the best way to handle the situation is to let it quietly disappear. We will not be dragging out the issue further by taking any legal action."
I blinked and took a breath. "But … Those were my pictures! It was my privacy that was invaded. You can't—"
"The clause in the contract you signed when you joined Hayze allows us to make decisions and gives us legal clearance for any issue that may affect Hayze or the company's image, including the exposure of private content."
I gaped at them, feeling like I'd been dealt another blow. I understood, quite plainly, that I was being told that I was not even going to be allowed to defend myself.
"Furthermore," Mr. Hong continued, speaking up, "We've called you here to discuss your future with the group and with your continued representation here at High Tune."
I sat back in my chair, because the weight of those words was unmistakable. I knew what was coming next, even though I didn't want to believe it.
"The board has decided that the best way to salvage Hayze's image and the reputation of High Tune is to remove you from the group. To compensate you for your troubles, we will be releasing you from your exclusive contract so you may be able to restart your career elsewhere."
The air felt as though it had been sucked out of the room. No one breathed. Not a single person at the table would meet my eyes.
"Y-you're letting me go? I'm being dropped by the label?" I thought I might start hyperventilating.
"You will be given the rest of your earnings from this year's promotions." The lawyer seemed to be trying to soften the blow, and I almost laughed. If my earnings looked anything like last year's earnings after High Tune took their cut, then I wouldn't even have enough to book a flight back to California.
"This was a difficult decision for us." Mr. Hong added, fixing his face into something I'm sure he thought was sympathetic. "But you should remove your things from the dorm as soon as possible."
I sat very quietly for several moments. So stunned that I almost didn't believe it. I couldn't find a sympathetic face anywhere in the room. When I looked Manager Heo's way, he simply looked down at the floor. In the end, it didn't feel like it had been a difficult decision for them at all.
***
As soon as possible turned out to be that night. I was escorted by a harassed-looking Manager Heo and a hurried secretary from High Tune back to the dorms where I was supervised while I packed, all the while feeling as though I was some kind of criminal.
The rest of the girls were seated in the living room when I came out, dragging my bags and all of my possessions dejectedly behind me.
They watched me being tossed from my home for the last two years in silence. Some of them eyed the whole thing with blank expressions. Others still couldn't meet my eye. Only Yunseo met my gaze, her expression pinched with sympathy. She tried to flash me a half smile of what I think was encouragement, but I could see even she felt conflicted about that small show of support.
Two hours later, I sat alone in a motel room in a cheap strip on the outskirts of Seoul. Renting the room with the last couple hundred won I had in my pocket. I could hear someone fucking in the room next door. The walls were thin, and I was staring at a hot tub in the middle of the room from the mattress of a heart-shaped bed.
If this wasn't rock bottom, I didn't know what was. I'd missed four calls from my father. Which was unlikely to be a good thing, since I hadn't heard from him in nearly a year. Someone must've told him the news back home. I'd been avoiding it for the last few days, hoping this kind of thing would stay on this side of the Pacific. Apparently, my luck had completely run out.
I sat there numbly for what felt like hours, contemplating my life and the mess I'd made of it. I was twenty-five, and it felt as if the last seven years that I'd spent training, starving, practicing till my feet bled, working schedules till I had to hold my own eyes open, running myself into the ground and leaving everything I'd ever known behind had all been wasted. All because of a man who couldn't handle rejection.
The more I thought about it, the more my disbelief and despair turned into something sharper, hotter. Fury boiled inside of me. I'd just lost my career, my home, the only friends I had in this country. I had pennies to my name and nothing to show for it. My reputation was ruined, thoroughly. The whole country thought I deserved it and I wasn't even allowed to get justice.
I wasn't signed to High Tune anymore, but the contract I'd signed was still valid for anything that happened before I'd been released. So, in short, I wasn't going to be able to hold the man who'd ruined my life responsible.
Or could I? As I sat there and thought about it, I wondered just what did I have to lose now? I couldn't go to the police, of course, and honestly, even if I had, he'd only deny it. I had no doubt he would have covered his tracks. Used a different IP address or used some kind of hacker trick to make the source of the photos untraceable. The photos that had been leaked were actually photos of photos on someone's phone. A clever trick that, if he was accosted, it could look as though someone had taken them from him without permission.
So maybe no one could help me. But I was a free agent now, and maybe I couldn't get my reputation back, but that didn't mean I had to sit here and be silent, to disappear like the industry wanted me to. They wanted me to bend my head and shame and slink away quietly. Well, I decided I didn't want to be quiet.
What I did next, I'll admit, may have been ill-advised. But I did it with this mantra on repeat: Fuck him. Fuck them. Fuck all of them. Fuck it to hell.
Because you know what? Those pictures—I had the originals. That was my body, my private moment, and if the world wanted to paint me as the whore, the slut. If they wanted me to be shameful, scandalous. Then I was going to own it.
Former Girl Group Member @E-SulKwon
(4 Photos)
"If the whole world is going to see them, then you might as well see them in HD. Should I release the video we made that day too? Just kidding. You have an image to uphold. Imagine how embarrassing it would be if everyone saw how terrible you are in bed. Why do you think I broke things off in the first place? All this trouble for a half-rate lay. At least I can actually get off now. XXX"
The numbers started to roll seconds after the post went live. Twitter was the natural choice, since the messiest things always seemed to happen on Twitter, and I figured Instagram would just delete them. I never told the agency about the tape. I knew, of course, the reason the video hadn't been leaked was because he would have been identifiable. Even if he was able to censor his face out, someone would have recognized his voice. The tape would never see the light of day, but I wanted everyone to know it existed. Because if I was going to be known for revenge porn, then everyone might as well know that I went all out.
User56784: Yahhh, she's really lost her mind now.
User47389: I guess the rumors about her getting kicked out of Hayze are true. There's no way the agency would let her post this.
User32890: Oh, she's seriously mad this time.
User00982: This is kind of a power move actually.
User221998: She's fighting back now. Good for her.
User32488: Why do I kind of love her for doing this?
User32122: She's really not ashamed of it, I actually respect her for that.
User998645: Kwon Iseul is no joke. Korea's never seen anything like this before.
* * *
I couldn't believe the frenzy my posts had caused. In a matter of hours, my mentions were flooded with reactions—some supportive, some appalled, but all of them eating up the drama.
Honestly, I'd always had a bit of a hard time following rules, but I'd behaved myself for the sake of my career. I was a good little girl and kept my head down, portraying the clean idol image they wanted. By airing my dirty laundry so publicly, I'd essentially torched any remaining bridges with the agency and the industry. But you know what? Fuck 'em. If they wanted to throw me out and ruin my life over some stupid pictures, then I wasn't going to go quietly.
My phone kept buzzing with calls from Haein and Ara. I finally answered Haein's call as I was packing up the last of my belongings and preparing to leave my crappy hotel to go sniff out another one, hopefully cheaper.
"Iseul-ah! Are you okay? What the hell was that on Twitter?"
"I'm fine, just … done being the victim," I said simply. "You wouldn't happen to know any cheap places looking for a tenant around here?"
There was a pause, then Haein replied, "Why don't you come stay with us?"
I straightened and sucked in a breath. "Really?"
"Absolutely. In fact, I insist. There's no way I'm going to sit back while they just kick you out onto the street. Your stupid label should be supporting you instead of turning on you. Ara's here too, and she agrees." Haein sounded mad, which I appreciated.
I let out a breath and rubbed my face. "That would be … amazing. Seriously, you would be saving my life."
"Wouldn't be the first time," Haein laughed, "So are you coming or not?"
"I'll be over in thirty."
***
Hauling my suitcases into Haein and Ara's cramped apartment, I was relieved to see the looks of concern, not judgment, on their faces. We'd been through too much together for that.
Over the next few weeks, I focused on getting myself back on my feet financially. My savings had been depleted to get myself set up with what little I did have, so I took a job teaching dance classes at a local studio. It wasn't glamorous, but it paid the bills and kept me doing what I loved.
In my downtime, I started writing—pouring all my anger, hurt, and defiance into lyrics. A single song at first, a vicious but vague kiss-off to my shitty ex and the label that had turned its back on me. The lyrics were pointed enough that fans would know exactly who I was referring to, but just plausibly deniable to avoid any legal blowback.
I finished the song in the middle of the night, and once the final lyrics were on the page, I looked down at it and marveled. I really had something there. I knew I did. Now if only I could do something with it.
I didn't have the money for studio time, that much was for sure. Yet, the more I thought about it, the more it ate at me. I couldn't just let the song languish like that. It needed to be heard. I wanted the world to hear my side of the story.
Then it came to me. I might've known someone who could help.
I dialed Seungmin's number, fingers tapping impatiently on my thigh as it rang. He picked up on the fourth ring, voice groggy. "Yeah?"
"Seungmin, it's me. You up?"
A rustle, like he was sitting upright. "Iseul? What time is it?"
"Uhh … nearly 2 AM."
He groaned. "Why am I not surprised you're calling at this hour? What's up?"
"I wrote a song. A really good one—like, could be a huge hit if done right. You down to help me record it?"
There's a beat of silence. "You're serious? After everything that went down?"
"More serious than I've ever been. I'm done playing by their rules and letting them call the shots." I could practically hear the gears turning in his head. Seungmin had been there through all my Hayze days, had seen me pouring my heart into songs that just got rewritten and twisted beyond recognition. He knew how much the music meant to me.
Finally, he exhaled. "Alright, I'm listening. What've you got?"
Over the next hour, I rapped out the lyrics, humming melodies and explaining the vibe I was going for—dark and smoldering, with just a hint of that playful, in-your-face attitude I'm known for. Seungmin was quiet for a long stretch after I finish.
"Well? You gonna help me out or what?"
"You really want to burn it all down, huh?"
I snort. "Set it all on fire. They're already bombed my chances of signing with another agency. I'm not going down alone."
"Shit…" He let out a low whistle. "Okay, yeah. Let's do it. I've got some studio time booked for later this week. You can come lay this down."
Relief washed over me. "Seriously? You're the best."
"Just don't get me in trouble, alright? I can't have you dragging my ass into another scandal." His tone was light, joking.
"No promises," I teased back. "But thanks, Seungmin-ah. I owe you one."
"You owe me like a million at this point. Just … make it good, okay?"
"You know I will."
I hung up, a slow smile spreading across my face. This was really happening. I was taking my career into my own hands.
Let the games begin.
* * *
I spent long nights in the studio with Seungmin, working together to make the sound match my fiery lyrics.
"Harder on that pre-chorus," I instructed, headphones clamped over my ears as I watched Seungmin tinker with the mixing board. "Like you're screaming it through gritted teeth."
He nodded, brow furrowed in concentration, and tweaked a few knobs. The speakers blasted the line back at us with a newfound intensity that had me nodding in approval.
"That's it. That's the energy."
We ran through it again from the top, and I felt that same defiant thrill coursing through me that I did when first scribbling down the lyrics. Every word was a strike back at the people who did me dirty—a big 'fuck you' to the ex-boyfriend who betrayed my trust, and the corporate leeches who turned on me the second things got messy.
Well, I was taking back control of my narrative now.
The beat kicked in and I was in the zone, belting out each heated verse with a sneer. By the time we got to the hook, I was practically snarling the words.
"If all those girls who throw you gifts and scream your name knew that it was you, would they care?
Or would they curse my name and say that I'm to blame?
If they knew who you are, would they turn their backs or would they shrug and make excuses?
I wonder if they'd even realize you would do it to them, too?"
Seungmin flashed me a grin and a thumbs-up from behind the glass. He was feeling it too.
We worked well into the early morning like that—him tweaking sounds and laying down tracks, me alternating between recording scorching verses and guiding his production with relentless attention to detail. I was a woman possessed, fueled by fury and exhilaration.
I didn't realize how late it'd gotten until the first rays of dawn were peeking through the studio windows. Seungmin rubbed his eyes wearily.
"You're really not fucking around, are you?"
"They fucked around," I said with a half-shrug. "Now they'll find out."
He chuckled darkly and leaned back in his chair with a groan. "We should probably take a break, get some food, and rest before we pass out."
The very idea of stopping made me antsy. I was so close to finishing, I could taste it. But I can also taste how dry my mouth was, how leaden my limbs were beginning to feel.
Reluctantly, I nodded. "Fine. Few hours to recharge, then we're going straight back in, yeah?"
"You're a madwoman, you know that?" Seungmin said, slinging an arm around my shoulders as we headed out. "But I fucking love it. This song is gonna break the industry."
I smirked at that. Damn right it was.
* * *
I leaned back in the studio chair, eyes half-lidded as I listened to the final mix one more time. The thunderous bass-line shook the room, punctuating each of my biting lyrics with seismic force. A wry smile tugged at the corner of my mouth—this was it, this was the searing middle finger to my past I'd been waiting to unleash.
As the track faded out, I turned to Seungmin with an expectant look. He pulled off his headphones, lips parted in an approving grin.
"Damn, Iseul…" He shook his head in disbelief. "You went full scorched earth on their asses."
"They had it coming." I shrugged, though I couldn't hide my own sense of satisfaction. "Especially that jackass Jihyun."
"For real. The way you dragged him without actually naming names?" Seungmin let out an impressed whistle. "That's some masterful shade."
He was right—I'd made sure to bury my toxic ex in a lyrical onslaught, calling out his lies and his sketchy behavior in painstakingly crafted verses. But I'd been careful to never explicitly name him or give obvious details that could open me up to legal action. Just plenty of juicy subtext that any fan could easily read between the lines on.
"I left a trail of breadcrumbs," I said with a sly wink. "But it's not my fault if people put the pieces together."
Seungmin laughed at that, slapping his hand on the mixing board. "You're too much, you know that? This is going to set the internet on fire when it drops."
"That's the idea." I ran a hand through my sweat-damp hair, suddenly aware of how utterly drained I felt after our marathon session. "We did good work here."
"More than good." Seungmin gave me an appraising once-over, eyes shining with professional respect. "This is a straight-up masterpiece of a diss track. Leagues beyond anything else out there."
* * *
The day finally arrived. After weeks of grueling studio sessions, my revenge anthem, "It's Not Me, It's You" was ready to detonate across the internet. Seungmin had handled uploading it to the major streaming platforms while I put the finishing touches on the music video.
As soon as the video went live, my phone started blowing up. The notifications flooded in—new followers, comments, shares. I smirked, opening up the YouTube app to watch the view count skyrocket in real-time.
It was like I'd lobbed a grenade into the eye of the storm. Within hours, my song had rocketed to the top of the charts, displacing even the biggest idol groups. The video's dislike bar was essentially non-existent, buried under an avalanche of rabid fans spamming the like button.
More importantly, the reaction vids and theory posts began rolling in thick and fast. Everybody was desperate to figure out just who I was taking dead aim at with those searing lyrics.
The breadcrumb trail I'd laid out was vague enough to avoid legal issues, but just explicit enough to stoke rampant speculation. Fans pored over every line, every subtle insinuation, in a frantic bid to solve the mystery of my mysterious ex.
It didn't take long for the consensus to form around a certain former boyfriend of mine—an idol from one of the biggest boy groups in the game. As the penny dropped for more and more listeners, the backlash against him came out in full force.
Comment sections and forum threads filled up with scathing takedowns, vicious memes, and exposes digging into his rumored infidelity and lies. Jihyun's pristine reputation was going up in flames before my very eyes.
Smirking, I leaned back on my couch to take it all in. I hadn't uttered a single syllable confirming his identity, but it was open season on his cancellation, regardless. My work was done.
I sat back, watching the chaos unfold with a satisfied grin. The numbers didn't lie—"It's Not Me, It's You" was an unstoppable juggernaut, demolishing everything in its path up the charts.
In a matter of hours, the song exploded across social media. Fans and listeners flooded timelines and comment sections, showering praise on the track's razor-sharp lyrics and undeniable catchiness. Reactions and theory vids dissecting the lyrics' hidden meanings went viral left and right.
It didn't take long for music blogs and entertainment sites to catch wind of the commotion. Thinkpieces and hot takes scrutinizing the song's subtle disses and veiled allegations started hitting the net by the minute. My name was on everyone's lips once again—the girl at the center of the latest piping-hot gossip.
The buzz only intensified as the song's popularity skyrocketed. Within days, "It's Not Me, It's You" had bulldozed its way into the upper echelons of the charts, leaving a trail of smashed records in its wake. It was the breakup anthem reverberating across the nation, the rallying cry for the scorned and betrayed.
With the hype at a fever pitch, I took to Instagram to pour gasoline on the flames. A single post—just a snippet of lyrics and a devil emoji—made my message crystal clear. I wouldn't be silenced or shamed into submission. Not this time.
My defiant stance rallied fans to my corner in droves. Hashtags and social media campaigns sprouted up overnight in a grassroots wave of solidarity. For every critic trying to tear me down as an unruly American brat, a hundred more voices rose up to defend my uncompromising authenticity.
The industry was splitting down the middle over where they stood on me. Some friends rushed to support me, while others did their best to distance themselves. But one thing was undeniable—I was a household name again. A bona fide lightning rod in the heart of the K-pop scene.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
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