The cursor blinked like a heartbeat on the empty screen, its rhythm relentless against the oppressive quiet of the room. Min Hee-jin leaned back in her chair, her fingers hovering above the keys, and wondered how it had come to this. The world outside was still asleep, unaware of the maelstrom that had engulfed her life, the accusations, the betrayals, the whispers that followed her like shadows. This was supposed to be a new beginning, a fresh start with ADOR and NewJeans, a group she had nurtured like her own children. But now, everything was unraveling, and the silence was deafening.
It had all started with a secret—one she had kept hidden in the corners of her heart, a secret she had never intended to reveal. Her sister’s death had left a void in her life that no amount of success could fill. She had been adrift, lost in the sea of her own grief, when she met "Jiyoungnim 0814," a shaman who claimed to be able to communicate with the dead. Skeptical at first, Min had found herself drawn to the shaman's calm presence and the comforting idea that her sister was still watching over her, guiding her from the beyond.
It was through this shaman, she believed, that her sister spoke to her, offering advice, support, and sometimes even warnings. Their conversations, conducted over countless KakaoTalk messages, became a lifeline for Min. She poured out her frustrations, her dreams, and her fears, trusting that the spirit of her sister, speaking through the shaman, would help her navigate the treacherous waters of the K-pop industry.
But trust is a fragile thing, easily shattered by the harsh glare of reality. When HYBE's accusations surfaced, they painted a picture of Min that she barely recognized—a woman desperate for control, willing to use any means necessary, even the supernatural, to achieve her goals. They claimed she was trying to wrestle ADOR away from them, conspiring with the shaman to influence company decisions, leak confidential information, and gain the upper hand in a battle for power.
She had stood in front of the cameras, the world watching, and tried to explain. “She is my friend,” she had said, her voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside her. “Can I not have a shaman friend? I had to get therapy because of HYBE. But if someone there listened to me—that was why I went to her.” But the words had felt hollow, empty, against the tidal wave of speculation and judgment that followed.
The media had latched onto the story, feeding on the drama, the spectacle of it all. A high-powered executive consulting a shaman for business advice, claiming to speak to her dead sister—every headline, every news cycle, was another blow, another cut. Min felt herself being dissected, piece by piece, her life and decisions scrutinized under a microscope. But worse than the public ridicule was the betrayal she felt from within her own company, the place she had given so much of herself to build.
HYBE's accusations didn’t stop at professional misconduct. They delved into her personal life, exposing her deepest vulnerabilities to the world. They claimed she had sought the shaman’s advice on everything—from stock purchases to the fate of BTS members and even the timing of NewJeans' debut. They said she had gone so far as to ask the shaman whether BTS should enlist in the military, a decision that carried weight far beyond the confines of the K-pop industry.
And then there was the shaman herself, Jiyoungnim 0814. Min had thought of her as a friend, a confidante. But HYBE’s narrative twisted that relationship into something sinister. They claimed the shaman was not just an advisor but a manipulator, pulling strings behind the scenes, using Min’s grief and belief to steer her actions. They accused Min of letting the shaman decide company policies, influence hiring decisions, even judge the trainees who would become the future of ADOR.
The room felt colder now, the silence heavier. Min closed her eyes, remembering the first time she had visited the shaman’s small office in Gangnam, the scent of incense thick in the air, the soft murmur of chants in the background. She had been so lost, so desperate for something to hold onto. And the shaman, with her calm eyes and gentle words, had seemed like a beacon in the dark. But now, that light was flickering, fading, under the weight of the accusations, the lawsuits, the boardroom battles.
There was a time when she believed she could change everything, that she could break free from the corporate chains and build something truly new, something beautiful with NewJeans. But now, as she sat alone in the quiet of her office, she wondered if it had all been an illusion, a dream that was crumbling around her. The world outside was waking up, and soon the silence would be filled with the clamor of voices, all demanding answers, all questioning her every move.
Min took a deep breath and began to type. This was not the end. This was just another chapter in the story of her life, a story that she would tell on her own terms. And if the world wanted a fight, then she would give them one. But this time, it would be different. This time, she would make sure her voice was heard, not as a victim, not as a villain, but as the woman she truly was—flawed, yes, but unbroken. The sound of silence had been shattered, and now it was time to speak.
