I'll Be the One

by Lyla Lee

  Instead of tearing me apart, her refusal to accept me sparks an idea in my head.

  Despite my tears, my voice comes out strong and firm as I say, “I may have gotten disqualified from the dance portion of the competition, but I’ll still prove to you that you’re wrong. I’m going to make the entire world see that I’m beautiful and powerful just the way I am, and you’re going to have to watch.”

  Mom’s still staring at me openmouthed when I leave the room.

  Later that night, I search YouTube for clips of Lana’s and my performance. Although the You’re My Shining Star channel just uploaded the video two hours ago, it already has two thousand views and counting. After watching it a few times, I find the clip of Henry and me dancing. This one was uploaded around the same time but has three times as many views.

  The end of the second one is too painful to watch, so I always make sure to stop before that point in the video as I rewatch Henry’s and my performance a few more times.

  Then, I form a group text with Henry, Lana, and Tiffany.

  Hey guys, I type. I need your help.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE THE LOOK ON BORA’S FACE,” Lana says on our way to the performance venue in downtown LA.

  We’re all sitting in Henry’s Suburban, slowly creeping our way up Figueroa as we head toward the final round of You’re My Shining Star. Unlike in the last few rounds, today’s call time is in the late afternoon, and traffic is terrible. Luckily, we left early enough to not have to be in a huge rush.

  “Do you guys really think this will work?” I ask. I try not to show it, but the nervousness creeps into my voice.

  “It better,” Tiffany says. “We worked way too hard for this.”

  “I think they’ll probably be too busy to notice,” Henry says. “Or at least, they won’t bother. If they do make a big deal about it, I’ll call Steve.”

  Steve holds up a victory sign from where he sits in the driver’s seat. “Don’t worry, Skye. I can think of a good distraction or two. I have a few tricks up my sleeve from my days as a bouncer in Vegas.”

  From the front seat, Portia giggles. I can’t even imagine what sort of wild distraction Steve has in mind, so I just laugh along.

  “Thanks, Steve,” I say. “Thanks, everyone.”

  Everyone says some variation of “No problem,” and I feel like the luckiest girl ever to have them all by my side.

  Just then, I get a text.

  REBECCA NGUYEN: Clarissa and I are on our way to the theater! So, so excited to see you perform!

  I smile and reply back with several heart emojis.

  Every final contestant received two guest tickets to give to family or friends. Dad’s in Seattle again for a business trip, and I didn’t even bother asking Mom. My school friends were an easy choice.

  It was a risky decision, but in the end, I switched my song choice to a girl-power anthem by Ailee, my favorite Korean singer. People call Ailee the Korean Beyoncé (she was definitely the Korean Beyoncé years before anyone called me that), because of her fierceness and unbelievable vocal skills. She’s exactly who I want to channel in my last performance of the competition.

  Luckily, the dance that goes along with the song is pretty easy while still being really flashy. In other words, it’s perfect for the plan that my friends and I have been working on for most of Thanksgiving break.

  When we get to the concert venue, it’s exactly like Henry said. This is the only performance of the competition that’s going to be broadcast live on TV, so things are ten times crazier than they usually are. Backstage, people are so busy running around to get ready that no one even gives us a second look. Henry gets a few glances, but they’re fleeting at most. Most people ignore him, too.

  The stage manager does a double take and glares at my friends when she sees that I’m not alone, but she doesn’t shoo them away. Instead, sounding very frazzled, she says to me, “You’re due to be onstage in two hours. Go to the dressing room for hair and makeup.”

  “I’ll see you guys later,” I say, waving at my friends.

  “Good luck!” Lana winks and gives me an enthusiastic wave.

  I take one last look at my friends before I hop into the dressing room. The three of them are on their phones with their backs against the walls, just chilling. Since they’re staying still and minding their own business, everyone soon forgets that they’re even there.

  I’m so nervous that I barely register all the pulling and pushing as the hair and makeup ladies get me ready for the stage. Professional hair and makeup are apparently a perk that the remaining contestants and I get as members of the final five.

  Since I’m trying to channel strong women like Beyoncé and Ailee, I ask for fierce eyeliner and bold, red lipstick, both things Mom always said I should avoid. I also change into a gold-sequined dress that hugs my curves and screams “Queen!” It not only makes me look and feel good but also catches the eye in a way that would be Mom’s worst nightmare.

  This whole night, in fact, is probably going to be her worst nightmare. But it’s going to be for her own good. I really hope she watches the show tonight.

  When I return backstage, Lana and Tiffany whistle.

  “Wow, Skye!” Lana cries out. She takes my hand and twirls me around. “Look at those sequins! And those curves! You’re glowing, baby!”

  Henry stays quiet, and I’m almost hurt by his lack of a response when I notice that his mouth is slightly open. He’s actually gaping at me, like guys do in the movies. He doesn’t even blink, so I’m getting a little concerned when he snaps out of it and finally says, “You look amazing, Skye. I mean, you always look amazing, but . . . wow.”

  Tiffany gives Henry a playful shove. “Stop drooling and get out of the way, lover boy.”

  Henry lets Lana and Tiffany pass, but when I come near him, he gently grabs my arms and pulls me into a hug. And then we’re kissing, not full-blown making out, but enough to leave me breathless.

  “You’re gonna get glitter all over you!” I exclaim when we finally stop.

  He smirks. “Do I look like I care? That kiss was totally worth it.”

  I laugh. “Priorities, I guess.”

  “Exactly. Good luck tonight, Skye. And no matter what the outcome is . . . I’m so proud of you. I have no doubt that you’re going to wow everyone. They are not ready for you.”

  “Aw, thanks.”

  I give him a peck on the cheek, and he blushes.

  Henry then gives me some space so I can warm up before going onstage. Time seems to pass way too quickly, and in almost no time at all, the stage manager hisses, “Skye! Go onstage in five . . . four . . .”

  I glance over at Henry, and he gives me a reassuring smile. I prepare to walk onstage, with Lana and Tiffany standing slightly behind me. They still look like they’re busy on their phones, and not like they’re about to come onstage with me.

  Which, of course, is exactly what they’re about to do.

  “Three . . . two . . . one. Go!”

  When I go onstage, I’m overwhelmed by a loud rush of noise and light. The competition committee really stepped up the game with this last round, and it looks like they have five times more lights than they usually do. They also hired a live band.

  The crowd goes wild when they see me, and I hear chants of “Queen Skye! Queen Skye!”

  “Hey! You can’t go out there!”

  There’s some commotion behind me, but Henry blocks the stagehands so Lana and Tiffany can stumble out onstage to join me. The audience gasps in confusion. But it’s too late for anyone to do anything because at that moment, the trumpet players blast out the opening of my song. It worked!

  Lana and Tiffany immediately jump into action, dancing in sync behind me as I move across the stage. I don’t have to glance back to know how awesome they look. We’ve been dancing together almost every day of this week in Henry’s practice room.

  I start singing, and people gasp at the sheer power of my voi
ce. All the worries and anxieties of the past few weeks drop from my shoulders as I dance along with Lana and Tiffany, all while never singing a wrong note.

  The live band gets really into it, and I break away from Tiffany and Lana to groove with them. The entire time, I’m smiling at the camera and also at the judges, who stare at me with obvious shock in their eyes.

  Bora looks visibly pissed. She’s angrily whispering in the ear of one of the staff members, but he only shakes his head.

  Good, I think. I hope he told her that she can’t stop me.

  Meanwhile, the crowd is going wild. They even sing along with the oohs and aahs in the chorus as I belt out the notes, and everyone’s bobbing up and down to the music. When it’s time for the instrumental solo, Lana, Tiffany, and I dance in formation. And the crowd only gets louder.

  I break away from my friends again to go back-to-back with one of the trumpet players. I match each of his soaring notes with notes of my own.

  The song is essentially a breakup song, but it’s also about showing the world that you don’t need anyone and don’t care about what haters do or think. And that’s exactly what I’m going for. Looking directly at Bora, I puncture through my last high note, letting my vibrato take over my voice.

  The auditorium practically shakes with all of the noise the audience is making. Bora and Mr. Park try to calm everyone down, but they’re relentless, screaming and chanting, “Queen Skye! Queen Skye!” over and over again.

  Davey comes out onto the stage and waves his hands at the crowd. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Settle down, everyone. It’s time to hear the judges’ comments!”

  Even then, it takes a few more minutes for everyone to be quiet.

  “Well,” Mr. Park says with a cough when we can finally make out what he’s saying. “You certainly know how to throw a surprise, Miss Shin.”

  “Tell me about it,” says Gary. “What an awesome turn of events.”

  “On the contrary,” Bora cuts in. “I would not say it’s ‘awesome.’ Not in the slightest. Miss Shin, you just broke the rules. You selfishly gave yourself an unfair advantage over everyone else. You deserve to be disqualified.”

  Several people boo, although I’m not sure if they’re booing at me or at Bora.

  “What, like the way I was disqualified from the dance portion for some rule that didn’t even exist?” I snap back at her. “First, I wasn’t ‘professional’ enough for you. Now you have to make up another rule to disqualify me here, too?”

  There are some oohs from the audience, and this time, it’s clear whose side everyone is on. Bora’s lips curl.

  “You can disqualify me again, Bora,” I continue. “But I just want everyone to know that there are no official rules saying contestants aren’t allowed to refute judges when they make unfair, discriminatory comments. And there aren’t any rules saying that contestants can’t bring in backup dancers or dance while singing during their performances. I checked. There are, however, rules against bullying.”

  Bora narrows her eyes. “What are you implying?”

  “Man, she got you good,” Gary says with a laugh. “Come on, Bora. Look at them!” He gestures at not just me, but also at Tiffany and Lana, who are still trying to catch their breath. “This probably took them a whole lot of extra work. And that level of dedication is amazing.”

  Mr. Park, who’s been silently watching us the entire time, finally speaks up again. “So, tell me, Miss Shin. What made you decide to step up the game like this? Was there any special reason? You must have had one, because this could not have been easy. You weren’t even officially given the time to practice the dance. And my records indicate that this isn’t the song you originally said you would perform.”

  I smile at the camera as I respond. “I just wanted to make my last performance here in LA a memorable one.”

  I’m careful not to say last performance, period, since I’m not ruling out the chance that I’ll be able to perform in Korea.

  “I see. Well, congratulations. You definitely succeeded in making it memorable.”

  Davey jumps in. “If Skye is your favorite to win, let us know on social media with the hashtag ‘QueenSkye’! And if you haven’t already, please remember to vote, vote, vote for your favorite member of the final five before polls close at the end of the last performance. Give it up for Skye Shin!”

  The crowd roars again, and Lana, Tiffany, and I all rush off the stage with large, beaming smiles on our faces.

  Backstage, I run right into Henry’s arms.

  “You were amazing,” he says. “Look.”

  He shows me his phone, which is playing the official livestream of the competition. Multiple new messages appear in the comments every second. Although there are still a few pig emojis and mean messages here and there, most people say I was fantastic and deserve to win. The broadcast switches to the scoreboard. It live-updates with the number of people who’ve texted to vote for me from all across the world. I have the most points out of all the competitors so far.

  He switches over to Twitter and Instagram, where already, people have started posting screenshots and videos of me. And that’s not all. There are also countless posts by fat girls saying things like, “She’s my shero! #QueenSkye” and “#QueenSkye inspired me to love myself!”

  My heart feels so full that I start to cry. It’s one thing to see people post things weeks after the fact, but it’s a whole other experience to see people all over the world reacting just minutes after I performed.

  “You did it,” Henry says gently. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “The results aren’t finalized yet. Congratulate me later!”

  “Okay, I’ll congratulate you now and later.”

  Since they aren’t announcing the winners until the end of the night, I hang out in the green room with the other finalists, watching the dancers on TV. Everyone’s too anxious about their own performances to talk much, and I’m honestly grateful for the silence. My heart is racing from the nervous anticipation of finding out not just how I’ll do but also how everyone else will do as well. I can’t even look at my phone anymore.

  The only two people still in the competition I’m really invested in are Henry and Imani, and they both do amazing. Henry delivers a killer cover of Stray Kids’ “District 9” that makes me so happy, especially since he actually looks like he’s having a blast onstage.

  But the real star of the show is Imani, who blows everyone out of the water with her rendition of ACE’s “Cactus.” The choreography for “Cactus” is complex, requiring several changes in tempo and precise break-dancing moves that the dancer has to rapidly execute while traveling across the stage. Imani does all that and flawlessly conveys the emotion in the lyrics, bringing a few people to tears. She’s a ten, while everyone else is a five.

  The audience gives her a standing ovation, and I feel so much pride for how amazing she is. People always discredit girl dancers in K-pop, saying that they can only do easier choreographies, but Imani is a testament to how girls can dance better than even the original boy band members.

  And then finally, it’s time for the results. We’re all escorted back onstage, and all the dancers stand in one group while I stand in another group with the singers. I share looks with both Henry and Imani, and we silently wish each other luck.

  Henry turns out to be right. At a whopping one hundred points ahead of everyone else, I win the vocal portion of You’re My Shining Star. And like I thought she would, Imani wins the dance portion.

  Imani and I give each other a big hug as the auditorium erupts with applause. Happy tears stream down from both our eyes as we stand side by side onstage with our crowns. Glittery, star-shaped balloons drop down from the sky, and for a brief moment, I’m surrounded by light.

  Everyone in the auditorium cheers for us, even Mr. Park. Bora, however, is nowhere to be seen.

  “I heard she got fired for bullying you,” Imani whispers in my ear. “And for trying to influence another judge.”

&n
bsp; Before I can even dwell on that, the cameras surround us, and Davey pushes the mic into my face.

  “You first, Skye,” he says. “Some words of reflection on your win?”

  I stare out at the flashing lights of the cameras and cell phones and say, “This is for middle school Skye, who was told by other people that she wasn’t capable of following her dreams. This is also for all the other girls out there who are told every day that they can’t do something just because of what they look like. If I can do this, then you can achieve your dreams too.”

  Davey claps, and then moves on to Imani.

  “This is for all the Black girls out there who love K-pop,” she says. “So much of the fandom—and even some of the stars—hate us, instead of thinking about how much we contribute to the community. Well, it’s time for a change, and I’m going to try my best to make it happen. I’ll make you proud. Just watch me.”

  The audience cheers as Davey hands each of us a trophy and a white envelope.

  “Skye Shin and Imani Stevens,” he says. “Congratulations on winning You’re My Shining Star. Inside your envelopes, you will find a plane ticket to South Korea, where you’ll have the chance to enter PTS Entertainment as two of their trainees in June of next year.”

  By then, I’m crying so much that I can barely read what’s on the ticket. But I’m beyond caring right now.

  I look out into the cameras, hoping Mom is watching back home.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  DAD FACETIMES ME AS SOON AS I’M BACKSTAGE. The connection is really bad, so I can barely make out what he’s saying. And I just see random flashes of Dad and his very confused-looking coworkers. From what I can tell, they’re out for dinner. But I guess that didn’t stop Dad from keeping tabs on the final round of the competition.

  The audio sounds a bit like this: “AHHHHH! Skye . . . so proud . . . here’s Tim . . . and Jacob . . . AHHHHHHH!”

  I never knew Dad’s voice could go that high, but I guess I had to get it from somewhere.

  As soon as I hang up, Lana and Tiffany rush over to give me a big hug. I’m a sobbing mess as I say, “I couldn’t have done any of this without you guys. Thank you so much.”