Page 81 of I'll Be the One

“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 nowandlater.”

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 thatandflawlessly 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 escortedback 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 whoppingone hundredpoints ahead of everyone else, I win the vocal portion ofYou’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.”

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 winningYou’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.”

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