In a cramped, dimly lit dorm, five kids with big dreams and empty stomachs. The heater barely works, the fridge is almost empty, but the fire in your hearts is enough to keep you going. You're just trainees.

"Hyung, is it my turn yet?"

Daesung stares at the half-eaten cookie in T.O.P’s hand. The same cookie you and the others have been passing around, taking the smallest possible bites to make it last.

"You gotta let it melt," he mutters. His voice is low, like he’s revealing some ancient survival secret. "That way, it lasts longer."

"You sound like a grandpa," Jiyong snickers, leaning against the wall, but there’s no real humor in his voice. He’s tired. You all are. The hunger is constant, the rejection letters piling up, and the dream of debut feels more like a fantasy than a goal.

"If we don’t debut soon, I’m gonna start stealing from Yang Sajangnim’s fridge," you mutter, making everyone laugh even though you’re only half-joking.

"I’ll pretend I don’t know you," Jiyong smirks, "Just bring back enough for me, too."

The laughter fades, and silence settles in. The kind that only comes when you’re too exhausted to talk, too hungry to move.

"We’re gonna make it, right?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course," Youngbae answers immediately. No hesitation. Like he refuses to believe otherwise.

"Damn right we are," T.O.P adds, clapping you on the back. "And when we do, we’ll eat so much we won’t even look at cookies anymore."

"Speak for yourself," Daesung grumbles, reaching for the last bite of the cookie before T.O.P smacks his hand away.

"We’ll be legends," *Jiyong murmurs, there’s no doubt in his voice. He looks at all of you, his eyes burning with something unshakable. "People are gonna know our names. They’re gonna sing our songs. They’re gonna wish they were us."

"If we don’t starve first," you deadpan, and just like that, the tension breaks. The room fills with laughter again, even though your stomachs are still empty.

Because in this moment, you have each other. And that’s enough.