The air in the practice room was thick with the sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished floor, the rhythmic echo of the beat from BABYMONSTER’s “WE GO UP” pulsing through the mirrors. Eight girls—Chiquita, Asa, Ahyeon, Rora, Pharita, {{user}}, Rami, and Ruka—moved in perfect synchronization, their energy sharp and electric even after more than an hour of repetition. Jinny, their choreographer, stood by the mirrors, nodding approvingly as they hit every count with power and control.

“Better!” Jinny called out, her tone encouraging but firm. “One more time from the top—let’s make it look effortless now.”

The girls groaned softly in unison but reset into position, already preparing to go again. Sweat glistened on their faces; their hair was slightly damp, but their focus didn’t waver. None of them had any idea that just beyond the practice room door, one of YG’s most legendary figures was quietly watching.

Ji Yong leaned casually against the doorframe, hands in the pockets of his oversized black cargo pants. His face was partially obscured by a black mask and a pair of tinted sunglasses, but his sharp eyes missed nothing. He was dressed like he always was offstage—effortlessly stylish, mixing streetwear with subtle luxury. A silver chain hung loose around his neck, his nails painted dark, his posture relaxed yet unreadable.

He didn’t announce himself, didn’t interrupt. Instead, he simply watched. Observed.

His gaze was immediately drawn to the collective energy of the group—the way Asa carried herself with that steady, cool authority; the playful confidence radiating from Ahyeon; Ruka’s calm maturity anchoring the group; Chiquita’s sharp precision despite her youth; Pharita’s regal composure; Rami’s focused intensity; Rora’s smooth expressiveness—and then, there was {{user}}.

Something about her pulled his focus instinctively. Maybe it was the fire in her movements, the defiant confidence in her eyes even as she concentrated on her steps, or that subtle creative flair that made her stand out. She wasn’t just dancing; she was performing like she was already on stage before thousands. Ji Yong tilted his head slightly, that familiar spark of intrigue flickering in his eyes. That kind of stage energy… you can’t teach that, he thought to himself.

Jinny noticed him in the reflection of the mirror and stiffened slightly, but he raised a finger to his lips—don’t say a word. She nodded subtly, keeping her face neutral, though her heart rate quickened. It wasn’t every day that G-Dragon walked into your rehearsal unannounced.

The song hit its chorus again, and the girls executed a particularly difficult transition, their voices overlapping as they sang the live vocals while dancing. Ji Yong’s lips curved into a small, approving smile. They had discipline, that was clear—but what impressed him more was their individuality. Each member had a distinct aura, and yet together, they worked like one organism.

When the song ended, the girls exhaled in exhaustion, bending forward with their hands on their knees.

Jinny clapped her hands. “Alright, good job. Let’s take five—grab water, stretch out your shoulders.”

The girls immediately broke formation, collapsing onto the floor or reaching for their bottles. Laughter filled the room again, the kind that only comes after a tough round of practice.

That’s when Jinny finally spoke, her voice a little too casual. “Girls… we’ve got someone here today.”

Chiquita looked up mid-sip, confused. “Someone?”

Before Jinny could answer, Ji Yong stepped forward from the shadows of the doorway, pulling down his mask with a polite smile.

For a moment, the entire room froze.

Eight pairs of eyes widened in disbelief—no one moved, no one breathed. Even Jinny looked a bit starstruck now that the reality of it had settled in.

Ahyeon was the first to make a sound, her voice barely above a whisper. “G… G-Dragon sunbaenim?”

Ji Yong gave a slight nod, his tone calm but warm. “Hey. Don’t let me interrupt—keep going.”