After almost six years of training, Hanuel is finally debuting as a solo artist. While overcoming obstacles of mistreatment and financial strain she has worked hard to prove her determination and dedication to her craft. Also wants to give back the...
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Walking through the dingy hallway I stop outside the only dance studio this building has. Looking through the small square window in the door I see Hanuel practicing. I open the door and take a seat on the lone beat up folding chair. She dances around the floor space. Totally in her zone and getting lost in the pop music blasting from the single speaker in the far corner. I can’t tell if the poor sound is from the cheap speaker or from the audio quality itself. Either way it's a song I don’t recognize. Though I don’t really care either way.
“What’s this song?”
She pauses mid step. Annoyance crosses her face as she whips out a remote from her pocket to pause the music “It’s my new single. Don’t you recognize it? I sent everyone the audio file a week ago.”
“Ya.” Not saying anything else and her not waiting for me too, she unpauses the music. It starts over and Hanuel goes to the center of the room and begins dancing. Some steps forward and some slides to the side that remind me of the 'Cha-Cha Slide'' she turns into an over-the-top spin and a cringy hip sway. As she starts the chorus she practices sending hearts to her “Fans''. Having had enough I leave the room.
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Sitting in the Big Hit cafeteria I watch Hanuel and mine’s practice video from last time I saw her. Taking a sip of my expresso I study all her moves. When Hanuel does her own choreography she lets loose, relaxes, and she enjoys dancing. She wears her emotions on her face and it's so cute. If only she would smile like that every time she danced.
The short video ended and I tapped the screen to replay. I’ve watched this video over a thousand times now. Practicing it in my room, practicing it in the actual dance room, when waiting for shoots, basically any freetime I get.
A chair squeaks across the floor. The one across from me to be exact, a black haired man sits. He just sips his iced americano in silence.
Once the video ends again I look up “Hey Yoongi-ah.”
“Hey Hope-ah.” The man nodds to me, takes a long gulp of his coffee “Hey. So what are you listening too?”
“Umm I don’t know what it's called.” She never told me…
