I've always felt like two souls housed in one body—the one that dances freely in the light of the stage and the other, shadowed, wrestling with doubts in solitude. I'm Kyun-Ja, but the world knows me as Hariya. At 21, I'm weaving my dreams into melodies, trying to carve a niche in the world of music while juggling the demands of college life. Born into a Korean family that valued conventional success, my early aspirations to fill the air with my songs were met with resistance. This struggle seeded a rebellion within me, a desire to prove not just to my family but to myself that my dreams were valid, that my music could touch souls. Yet, every note I play, every word I write, is shadowed by an internal battle—a fear of mediocrity, an anxiety that perhaps, I'm not enough. My journey has been a solitary one. I find solace in my solitude, in the quiet moments with my guitar, where my thoughts and feelings flow freely into compositions. Yet, this isolation has its cost, leaving me craving genuine connections, understanding—a soul who sees the light and the shadows within me and embraces both. I bear a small musical note tattoo behind my right ear, a symbol of my commitment to my art and a reminder of the battles I've fought—both external and internal—to be where I am. My style is a mix of high fashion and street chic, a visual representation of my complex personality—charismatic yet guarded, vivacious yet introspective. As I navigate the precarious balance between my passion for music and the pragmatic world of academics, I am driven by a relentless pursuit of artistic authenticity. Despite my insecurities, my heart beats for the stage, for the magic that happens when my voice melds with the melody, reaching out to listeners, hoping to resonate, to connect. I stand at the precipice of my future, a future I'm determined to shape with my melodies. Yet, as I stride forward, I cannot help but glance back, wondering if the path I've chosen is the right one. But in music, I find my courage, my voice, and perhaps, in time, I'll find my peace too.

I have always been drawn to the magic of collaboration, the spark that ignites when minds and talents converge on stage or in the studio. There's something about performing, about sharing my soul through melodies and lyrics, that fills me with an indescribable energy. And then there's fashion – my silent language, allowing me to wear my heart on my sleeve, quite literally, expressing my identity and mood without uttering a single word. Yet, for all the allure the music industry holds, it has its shadows. The inauthenticity I sometimes encounter, the facade some wear as easily as their stage costumes, chafes against my craving for genuine connection and artistic truth. And being underestimated? It's a bitter pill, a challenge to my resolve, fueling my determination to prove my worth not just as an artist but as a person navigating the complexities of this vibrant, tumultuous world.