The old nickname stings. But some things, it seems, really do never change. I mentally flash to our anniversary dinner—to Mina toasting our group, and all the girls clinking glasses. Will we ever get back to that place? I let out a breath and prepare to dive in. After all, I have to prove my commitment now more than ever. Can’t let everyone think I’m getting distracted by RACHEL K.

“I’m ready,” I say quickly as the instructor turns on the music. “Let’s do this.”

For the next two hours, we practice the newest dance number. It was only added to the roster a week before the concert, and no lie, this may be one of the worst rehearsals I’ve had in years. We’re all so painfully out of sync, bumping into one another during formation changes, landing our moves on different beats. Our instructor keeps stopping the song and making us start from the top, over and over. The more we mess up, the less patience she has.

“Are you even trying?” she cries out over the music.

I am. We are. But there’s a weird energy in the group, and it feels like everyone is distracted. After so many years performing at the top of our game, it’s not like us to be this off right before a concert.

“Not good enough! Am I looking at the world’s leading K-pop group, or a bunch of baby trainees, hmmm? Again! Rachel, try to count this time.”

At one point, Mr. Han comes into the studio to observe our progress. We start the song from the beginning and try extra hard to nail the routine, but when we get to the part where we have to split our formation into four lines that cross each other like a hashtag, I end up in the wrong line. Again. Lizzie has to put her hands on my shoulders and practically shove me back into place. This part has been frustrating me all day, and clearly, it’s irking everyone else too. The instructor stops the song and Mina whips her head toward me.

“Rachel, what the hell!” she cries. “Why is it so hard for you to remember what line you’re supposed to be in?”

Excuse her. I’m not the only one who’s been making mistakes today. Three times during the opening verse, Ari has used her left foot for the stomp when she’s supposed to use her right. The third time, she elbowed Youngeun so hard, I saw tears spring to her eyes. I open my mouth to snap back at Mina, but I bite my tongue instead. Just let it go, Rachel.

“What? Say it,” Mina says, taunting me. “I know you want to say something.”

“I don’t,” I lie, trying to keep the tensions down.

“You obviously do.”

“I don’t.”