It’s the day of my partnership event with Discipline Sportswear, and I’m sitting in the greenroom, waiting to be called out to the stage for my first-ever solo performance. The plan is for me to sing covers of a selection of my favorite classic Chung Yuna ballads, then do a fan signing, followed by a photo shoot. For the shoot, we’re pairing Discipline sneakers with my bags for a campaign about fashion on the go. Ollie’s even talking about working together to design a sporty belt bag, but that’s for down the line. Today, I’ll be rocking smudged multicolored sneakers, and for the bag? Well, as much as I love all the purse designs I created, I followed my heart and had to create a new one especially for Discipline. It’s the New Rachel bag: a playful mini top-handle bag, with a tiny infinity symbol on the seal. Because, as Carly herself said, the show must go on. And as my dad always says, we roll with the punches, but we don’t give up the fight.

My heart is hammering in my chest, and my palms are clammy. I check to make sure my mascara isn’t smudging, that my lipstick is still in place. For the solo performance and fan meeting, I’m wearing a simple glittery black headband with a matching dress. Classic, but with a little bit of sparkle. Sometimes a little bit is all you need.

There’s a knock on the door, and a security guard pokes his head in. “Ms. Kim, we’re ready for you.”

I take a deep breath and rise.

Here’s the pact I made with myself ever since I said yes to Carly’s invitation. No matter what the crowd is like today, I’m going to give them my all. Even if there’s only one fan out there, I’m going to make sure that one fan has the best K-pop experience they’ve ever had in their life. I’ve learned the value of loyalty, and if anyone is willing to stick with me through everything that’s happened, well, I’m going to pay them back tenfold. Today and for all the days to come.

I follow the security guard as he leads me toward the stage. I pause, pressing a hand against my heart. It’s racing with anticipation. But it’s not just nerves anymore. It’s excitement.

I’ve missed this.

I walk onto the platform beneath the stage that will carry me up through a trap door. I take one more deep breath as the man operating the lift begins to count down.

3, 2, 1.

Above me, the stage floor parts, lights flooding down through the opening.

And then: the lift begins to rise.

Immediately, the thunderous roar of a cheering crowd overtakes me. I squint in the spotlight, certain I’m imagining things, but no. It’s real.