How To Join A Kpop Girl Band Audition?

"Keep your hands on the fucking desk." His voice is dark, as he presses my palm against the desk bending me over, his c*ck burying deep inside. "You like that?" he whispers against my ear. I whimper and arch my back further, trying to take him deeper despite the pain. I never thought I'd like this sort of thing, never thought I'd even try it. But here's Harlan, opening me up to a world of pleasure and vulgarity that I didn't even know existed, and fuck, it hurts, but it's so fucking good, I can't imagine stopping. "Yes," I breathe. He slaps me harder. His palm lands against the side of my face with an obscene smack that makes me feel sick and delighted and dirty all at once. I moan as he draws me closer to release. “Yes, what?!” he demands, pulling me up by my hair. “Yes, professor.” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Eden Shaw craves more than straight A's... she hungers for the forbidden gaze of her brooding professor, Harlan. What starts as stolen glances ignites into a dangerous game of dominance and desire, where every lecture hides a secret touch and every grade comes with a price. But when Eden uncovers Harlan's hidden past as Ethan Hale, heir to a fractured legacy, their illicit affair is endangered. In a world of powerplays and buried truths, can Eden submit to the man who owns her body... before he claims her heart? Because Harlan's past is not just painful, it's dangerous, and Eden is about to find out that loving him means entering a world she was never supposed to see. A world full of secrets. A name he no longer claims. And a choice that could destroy them both. ~ She wanted to impress him. Now she may have to save him.

Before we submitted our college applications, the popular girl in our class, the billionaire’s daughter, suddenly said she could get all of us into Harvard or Yale. “My parents donated several buildings to those schools. Getting you all admitted is nothing.” Most of my classmates’ college entrance exam scores were still a long way from those schools, but they believed her. They gave up submitting their own applications and counted on her to pull strings so they could get into college. In my last life, I realized her promise was unreliable. I immediately urged them not to give up on their applications, to keep a backup plan, and I called their parents one by one. But that infuriated the popular girl. She mocked me for being poor and said I did not understand how the upper class worked. She claimed I had ruined everyone’s future. My boyfriend also snapped at me for being jealous. “You’re just jealous that Lissy’s family is rich. You can’t stand the thought of all of us going to Harvard or Yale. So what if you have good grades? You could work your whole life and still never catch up to what her family built over three generations.” For the sake of our three years as classmates, I did not argue with them. But before the deadline, when I found out they still had not submitted their applications, I called the police and exposed the popular girl’s fake identity. The popular girl was condemned by everyone. In despair, she jumped into a river and killed herself. My classmates all said she deserved it and thanked me for saving their futures. But at our class farewell dinner, my boyfriend poisoned my drink, and the entire class watched coldly as I writhed in pain. “At worst, we would have lost our chance at college. Lissy lost her life!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the popular girl claimed she could pull strings for us.

Studying abroad can be incredibly lonely at times. That night, I was in my room, indulging in a little treat for myself, when my best friend suddenly burst through the door. "Doing it yourself is no fun. Come on. There's a super cool cabaret show going on. Let's go see it together!" On stage, my friend was reclining in a chair behind the curtain, with two strong-looking men on top of her. "Come on. Join us for a group dance..."

In a music competition show, my rival unexpectedly played the melody I had in my mind before I could. Shocked, I confronted her, asking why she plagiarized me. However, she turned the accusation against me and said, "You said I stole your work, but do you have any proof?" However, I was unable to provide any concrete evidence. Thus, I was labeled as a bully and a plagiarist, ultimately meeting a tragic end. Even in my final moments, I couldn't figure out how she managed to steal something from my mind. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on that same stage. Seeing that my rival was about to play her part, I stopped her and said, "This time, it's my turn to go first."

Two months remained until debut evaluation night. Before our unit performance, our main dancer suddenly offered me her center position. I stared at her, confused, "The trainers always praise your stage presence. Why give up your spot?" "You... you deserve center more than I do." Her smile was painfully forced, and she was fidgeting with her practice clothes - obviously not saying what she really felt. Puzzled by her strange behavior, I asked, "Are my moves too big? Am I making it hard for you to perform?" She suddenly started shaking, looking at me with pure fear in her eyes. After what felt like forever, she finally choked out, "Please, just stop. I won't try to compete with you for center anymore!"

Jillian had been living and enjoying her life peacefully; doing whatever she wants whenever she wants. She couldn't ask for more. Who wouldn't want a peaceful life? Until one day, she bumped into a seemingly mysterious guy in a gray hoodie who was being chased by some crazy girls and he even had the audacity to kiss her to save himself! She thought he was only a random guy that she won't ever meet again, just like the rest of the people she bumped to on the street, until he came back and offered her something she couldn't refuse in exchange to pretend as his fake girlfriend for the next two months. And in their two-month charade, it wasn't easy. It wasn't all sunshines and rainbows, especially when you're dating a famous idol.