off the record

CONFESSION #006

SUBJECT: Uchinaga Aeri (Giselle) — aespa

DEVICE: iPhone 17 Pro — Deep Blue

APPLE ID: ████████@icloud.com

FOLDER: 개인 (Private) / 私事

FILE TITLE: "off the record"

CREATED: August 2020

LAST MODIFIED: January 2026

SYNC STATUS: Backed up to iCloud

ENCRYPTION: BREACHED

[ FILE OPENED ]

off the record

hi.

okay this is weird. i'm talking to a note. i'm literally opening the notes app on my phone and typing hello to it like it's a person. i'm aware of how insane this is. please don't judge me. actually you literally can't judge me because you're a note. that's kind of the whole point.

let me explain what this is going to be. i can't tell anyone what's in my head right now. not karina. not winter. not ningning. definitely not any other trainees. not my mom. not my friend from tokyo who i haven't seen in eight months. literally nobody. and there's some stuff i really need to say out loud or i'm going to lose my mind and end up screaming into a pillow at 3am like a drama character.

so. you're my friend now. congratulations. you didn't sign up for this but neither did i really.

rules. one — nobody ever sees you. i'm going to hide you in a folder called private inside a folder called personal in japanese so if anyone glances at my phone they'll see nothing interesting. two — i'm not going to date these entries. dates make it feel like a diary and i don't want it to feel like a diary. i want it to feel like i'm just talking. three — i'm going to be honest with you because if i'm not honest with the ONLY thing in my life i can be honest with then i really am losing it.

okay. ready?

so.

i'm going to do something i can't take back. i've been thinking about it for a while and i've decided and now i just need to tell somebody i've decided even if that somebody is a phone.

(deep breath.)

let me back up.

so debut is happening. everyone knows it's happening. i've been at SM for eight months. eight. months. do you know how long the other girls have been here? ningning since 2016. she was a CHILD. karina and winter since 2017. that's years for them. i showed up in december like hi hello here i am please put me on stage in a year. and they're actually going to do it.

but here's what i learned yesterday. karina and winter and ningning are basically locked in. like publicly not-announced-yet but internally decided. the fourth spot is still being discussed. some people internally are saying wait for another trainee to develop more. some people are saying push forward with what we have. i heard this from another trainee who overheard her vocal coach on the phone which is like eighth-hand information but she was very confident about it and honestly it tracks with things i've been feeling.

i'm the maybe.

there are other girls here too. former SM Rookies who were basically PROMISED debut and then it didn't happen and now they're still here training and waiting and watching me — the girl who showed up eight months ago — potentially get put in the group they've been waiting years for. and some of them are being kind of shitty about it? like passive aggressive comments in the practice room. i overheard someone say "must be nice to fly in from japan and skip the line" and i pretended i didn't hear her but i heard her. i hear all of them.

ningning was the one who told me not to listen to them. she came to me in the hallway after a particularly bad practice where i'd caught two girls staring at me and whispering and she said "aeri-unnie. don't. they're mad at the wrong person. be mad at the company if you're mad at something. i've been here five years and i know how this works. it's not personal against you it just LOOKS like it."

i love her for that. i really do. she's two years younger than me and she has the calmness of a forty year old. but the thing she doesn't understand — and i can't tell her — is that some of what those girls are saying is TRUE. i AM behind. i AM the newest. i AM the one who might not make the cut. and if i don't make the cut i don't get to redo the last eight months. i go home to tokyo and i tell my mom the whole thing was a mistake.

i can't do that.

okay this is the part where i tell you my plan.

it's been in my head for maybe two weeks now. i keep pushing it away and it keeps coming back. and every time it comes back it feels a little more like a real thing i could actually do and a little less like a shameful thing i shouldn't be thinking about.

here's the thing. everyone knows how this industry actually works. everyone. the fans pretend they don't know but the fans absolutely know. the trainees definitely know. we joke about it. we joke about which sunbaes obviously did what to get where they are and which executives obviously have "favorites" and which comebacks obviously got greenlit because someone was sleeping with someone. it's not even a secret. it's just something you're not allowed to say out loud.

i've been thinking. if talent isn't enough — and sometimes it isn't, no matter how much talented and hard working you are, everyone confirms that constantly, the girls who make it aren't always the most talented ones, they're the ones who did what they had to — then WHY am i acting like the moral question is important. i'm from a japanese-korean family. i wasn't raised catholic. i wasn't raised thinking sex is sacred. i was raised thinking opportunity is sacred. and i have exactly one opportunity right now and it's slipping.

so.

there's a man. i've been watching him for a couple of weeks now trying to decide if he's the right target. he's a senior executive here. i'm not going to name him even to you because i'm not stupid. he's in his sixties. wife who i've never seen. reputation for being one of the people who has actual say over trainee decisions. i've heard his name in conversations twice about the aespa lineup which is why i noticed him in the first place.

but here's the actually useful thing about him. i've watched him watch the young trainees. not in a professional way. in a specific way that i recognized the second i saw it. it's not obvious to anyone who isn't looking for it — he's practiced, he's careful, he's been doing this for decades — but i've been paying attention and i've seen it. the way his eyes linger on certain girls in the hallway. the way he finds reasons to be near the practice rooms during specific sessions. the way he compliments certain trainees with his hand on their shoulder for one beat too long.

he wants it. he has wanted it. he's probably had it, honestly, from other girls before me. i'm not inventing an option out of thin air. i'm identifying an existing option that's been sitting there this whole time.

and here's the thing about being almost 20 and looking like i look. i know what i look like. i'm not being conceited i'm being practical. i've spent enough time in front of enough eyes to know exactly what my face does to people. i've spent enough time watching men respond to me in restaurants and elevators and audition rooms to know exactly what my body does to people even under a hoodie and no makeup.

if i decide to actively point that at him he is not going to say no.

the question isn't whether he'll say yes. the question is whether i can pull it off without it being obvious to everyone in the building. and the answer is yes because i'm smart and careful and i've been planning this in my head for two weeks.

okay. i'm going to do this. i'm doing this. i'm saying it out loud to you which means i'm actually going to do it.

step one is proximity. i need to be near him more. i need him to start expecting me in his line of sight. i need to become a face he associates with warmth instead of just another trainee.

start there. see how he responds. build from there.

god. i'm actually doing this.

goodnight note. wish me luck.

—

okay quick update because i just got home and i need to tell you before i lose the specifics.

i did the first pass today. proximity thing. i lingered in the hallway near his office when i knew he'd be coming out for lunch and i "happened" to be walking past just as he opened the door. i bowed. i smiled the specific smile — the one that has real warmth in it not just professional courtesy. i said good afternoon in the softest voice i have. i held eye contact for one second longer than a trainee should hold eye contact with a senior executive.