chapter 5

Chapter Five: The Warning

Night fell heavy over the mansion.

After dinner, Ana’s grandparents left to visit relatives in the city. The house grew quiet — too quiet.

Ana was in her room, packing a few of her clothes for the trip to BigHit the next morning. Her hands shook slightly; she still couldn’t believe it was real.

She had been chosen.

For once in her life, something good was happening.

But that hope shattered when her door opened suddenly.

Her father stood there, his face hard and cold.

“Come with me,” he said.

Ana froze. “F–Father…?”

“Now,” he barked.

She followed him down the narrow hall. Her stomach twisted with dread. He didn’t speak, and the silence between them was heavier than words.

He led her to the basement — the one place in the house she hated most. The air was cold, damp, and smelled of metal and dust.

Her voice came out as a whisper. “Did I… do something wrong?”

Her father turned on her sharply. “You spoke out of line today,” he hissed. “You embarrassed me in front of Mr. Bang. You think you can make decisions without me?”

Ana’s heart pounded. “I didn’t—Saba just wanted—”

“Silence!” he shouted. His eyes burned with fury. “You listen carefully. Tomorrow you’re going to BigHit. You will sing, you will smile, and you will forget everything about this family. Do you understand me?”

Tears filled her eyes. “But—my brother—”

His expression hardened. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a cold whisper.

“If you ever speak about your life here… if you tell them how you were treated, or where you came from, you’ll never see your brother again.”

Ana’s breath caught. “Please… don’t—”

He slammed his hand on the table beside them, making her flinch.

“I mean it, Ana. Keep your mouth shut. You have no past. From now on, you are what I tell you to be.”

She stood trembling, her hands clasped tightly to keep them from shaking.

“Do you understand?” he demanded.

She swallowed hard. “…Yes, Father.”

“Say it louder.”

“Yes, Father.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then turned away. “Go to your room. You’ll leave at sunrise.”

Ana climbed the stairs slowly, her legs weak beneath her.

When she reached her room, she closed the door and sank to the floor. Her body trembled with pain and fear, but she didn’t cry.

Her tears had long since run dry.

She looked down at her right hand — red, swollen from where he had grabbed her too tightly — and wrapped it with a strip of cloth from her old bedsheet.

Then she whispered into the darkness,

“I won’t break. Not this time.”

Outside, the wind rattled the windowpanes, but Ana didn’t flinch.

Tomorrow, she would leave this house — maybe forever.

And even if her father’s threats haunted her, something deep inside whispered louder:

You are more than their cruelty. You are your own voice

The Birth of Wings

The car ride to BigHit Entertainment was silent.

Saba sat beside Ana, glancing at her from time to time, but Ana didn’t speak. She wore a long black hoodie that covered her entire body, a scarf wrapped around her neck, and a mask that hid most of her face. Only her eyes — those calm, unreadable hazel-green eyes — were visible.

Saba reached out, touching her arm gently.

“Are you okay?”

Ana’s voice was quiet, flat. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to wear so much,” Saba said softly. “It’s hot today.”

Ana looked out the window. “I don’t want anyone to see.”

Saba’s heart ached. She knew what Ana was hiding beneath the fabric — the bruises, the scars, the burns. The marks of a home that had never been safe.

She squeezed Ana’s hand. “Soon… all of this will change.”

Ana didn’t reply. She just kept her eyes on the world outside — a world she was finally about to step into.

When they arrived at the BigHit building, the place buzzed with energy. Staff members hurried through the halls, voices echoed from recording rooms, and the faint thump of music filled the air.

Mr. Bang greeted them warmly at the entrance to the studio. “Welcome, girls!” he said, his smile kind but professional. “I’m glad you made it.”

Saba bowed politely. “Thank you, sir.”

Ana followed silently, her head lowered.

Mr. Bang noticed her quietness but didn’t comment. Instead, he gestured toward the large rehearsal room behind him. “Come in. The other girls are waiting.”

Inside, three girls were already there — sitting together, chatting. They looked older, confident, and stylish. The moment Ana and Saba entered, they turned to look.

Mr. Bang clapped his hands lightly. “Everyone, meet your new bandmates — Kim Saba and Kim Ana.”

He pointed as he introduced them all.

“This is Hana — leader of the group and main rapper.”

A tall girl with sharp eyes and short brown hair stood up first. “Hi,” she said with a grin. “Welcome. I’m Hana. You can count on me if you need anything.”

Saba smiled back. “Thank you.”

Ana gave a small nod. “Hello.”

Then Mr. Bang gestured to the next girl. “Shara, our lead rapper.”

Shara had long wavy hair and a mischievous smile. “Finally! More girls in the dorms. Welcome, sisters!”

Ana nodded again. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

“And this,” Mr. Bang continued, “is Eera — visual and vocalist.”

Eera stood up gracefully. Her looks were striking — elegant and delicate. “It’s nice to meet you both,” she said kindly. “You’re so pretty, even with the mask on.”

Ana froze for a moment. She wasn’t used to compliments. “I—thank you,” she said quietly.

Saba smiled. “We’re happy to be here.”

Mr. Bang clapped once more to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright, girls, let’s go over your positions officially. You’ll debut as a group — name is WINGS. It symbolizes freedom, growth, and strength.”

The girls nodded, their eyes gleaming with excitement.

He continued, handing each of them a sheet of paper.

“Hana — leader and main rapper. Shara — lead rapper. Eera — visual and vocalist. Saba — lead vocalist, lead dancer, and sub-rapper.”

Then he turned to Ana, his tone softening slightly.

“And Ana… you’ll be the main vocalist, main dancer, visual center, and maknae.”

Ana looked up in surprise. “Main…?”

Mr. Bang smiled. “Yes. You have something special. When you sing, it feels real. People will feel that.”

Ana said nothing — she only bowed slightly.

“One more thing,” Mr. Bang said, his expression turning serious. “For now, the world will not see your faces. You’ll perform wearing masks for at least a year. The mystery will make people curious — and it will protect your privacy.”

The girls exchanged glances, murmuring in surprise.

“Even from BTS?” Hana asked.

Mr. Bang nodded. “Yes. BTS will be working in the same building, but until your debut, there will be no direct contact. Focus on your training. Got it?”

Everyone nodded.

Saba asked, “Sir, may I ask why the masks?”

Mr. Bang smiled knowingly. “Sometimes, talent speaks louder than faces. Let the world fall in love with your voices first.”

After the meeting, Mr. Bang and the staff left, leaving the five girls alone. The room felt bigger, quieter now — filled with the faint hum of the air conditioner and the weight of new beginnings.

Hana clapped her hands together. “Alright, newbies — we’re a team now. Let’s get along.”

Shara smirked. “Yeah, but don’t expect me to go easy during practice. I like to win.”

Eera giggled. “She’s kidding. Kind of.”

Saba laughed softly. “We’ll do our best.”

They all turned to Ana, who stood silently near the corner, still wearing her black mask and hoodie. Her eyes were distant, unreadable.

Hana tilted her head. “You okay, Ana?”

Ana blinked. “Yes.”

“You’re really quiet,” Shara said. “Like, scary quiet.”

“I just… don’t talk much.”

Eera smiled gently. “That’s okay. We’ll get used to it.”

Saba stepped closer to her sister and whispered, “You can relax now. They’re nice.”

Ana’s eyes flickered briefly toward her. “I’m fine.”

But she wasn’t. Inside, her heart was pounding. The noise, the people, the new world — it was overwhelming. She wanted to disappear, to hide. Yet, at the same time, she felt something she hadn’t felt in years.

Possibility.

As the girls began setting up for practice, Hana walked past the window and paused. Down in the lobby, a familiar group of boys entered — laughing, talking, their faces half-hidden under caps.

One of them turned his head slightly, looking up at the second-floor window.

Ana froze. Even through the glass, even with the mask, she recognized those eyes.

Him.

For a second, Jungkook stared back, his steps slowing. Then one of his members — Jin — tapped his shoulder, and he turned away.

Saba noticed Ana’s stillness. “What’s wrong?”

Ana shook her head quickly. “Nothing.”

But inside, her chest tightened.

Fate, it seemed, wasn’t done with her yet.

That night, as the girls lay in their new dorm room, Saba whispered from the bunk above,

“Can you believe it, Ana? We’re idols now.”

Ana stared at the ceiling, the shadows dancing softly across her eyes.

“Idols,” she repeated quietly, the word strange on her tongue.