Generations Expectation's | 8th member of BTS

27

| Korean Words meaning |

Still none, lol.

Anything in regular font = Korean

Anything in Italics = English

Anything in Bold = Spanish

Anything in Bold & Italics = Any other language besides Spanish, Korean, or English

*Time Skip, Was May 15th. Now June 13th.*

BTS debut

I could feel my heart racing in my chest, frantically trying to burst free so it could be anywhere but here, where we stood. This was it.

Years of practice and countless days and nights of dancing and singing led to this moment.

A dream I had been chasing since I was a child was coming to light, right in front of me.

I was following in the footsteps of my late mother, hoping her charms and talents would bless me today. My heart begged for our group to make a profound impact, just as her group had. I prayed that all our sacrifices – the mental breakdowns, meticulous calorie counting, pure exhaustion, the injuries endured, and the sacrifices we made as individuals – would not be in vain.

It was almost surreal to think that a group like ours was about to have a debut stage, and that too on a platform as prestigious as M Countdown, where we would share the same stage as legendary groups like SHINee and BigBang. It felt like a dream, but unlike those revered acts, I couldn't help but worry if anyone out there was here to support us. We were just another act preceding their favorites, and the fear of not meeting people's expectations gnawed at me. We stood on the sidelines, gazing at the radiant and vibrant stage as the group before us poured their hearts into their latest comeback performance. The stage pulsated with their choreography, and the audience erupted into joyous chants and screams, clearly reveling in their show. Anxiety clawed at my nerves as I watched them.

"Alright! BTS, you're up in three" a stage manager barked, clutching his clipboard and appearing visibly frazzled. He dashed off to attend to his next task, with no time to spare during this live broadcast where perfection was the rule. The knowledge that all of this was happening live and being recorded only heightened my anxiety. I became hyperaware of my attire, my eyes fixating on my ensemble. It was a cheaply made outfit, designed to exude a grungy and hardcore vibe, but it wasn't the most flattering choice for a girl. The guys thought it made them look cool and edgy. My thick eyeliner started to irritate my eyes, but I dared not touch it. Our makeup artist had already scolded me twice for meddling with it, so I had to endure the discomfort. With so much on my mind, I couldn't help but fret about how my appearance would be perceived.

"Come on guys, gather around!" Namjoon voices, pulling us into a huddle.
He has to yell over the boom of speakers and screams of the crowd to even get our attention. We gather around, wrapping one another up sort of similar to a football team before a big game. Namjoon does his best to give us a pep talk but over the sound of the performance behind us and my heart beating loudly into my ears, it's hard to hear him.
"We been practicing for this day- FOREVER, now, everyone take a deep breath and just know we GOT this!" he declares, over ecstatic, the adrenalin boosting his spirits. Some of the boys hoot and holler in excitement, their nerves disappearing, and no worry in the world. For a select few the anxiousness is overwhelming them, one of those individuals being me. We all pull apart after our breakaway hand cheer and everyone is doing their own things to mentally prepare for this performance.
Namjoon and Hoseok high-five and goof around with one another, probably beyond elated they are finally getting the debut they've worked so hard for.
Yoongi is keeping to himself, adjusting his earpiece as he zones out everything around him. Jungkook is running in place, a smile plastered against his bunny cheeks as he watches the group in front of us smashing their performance.
Taehyung stands fiddling with his mic as his makeup artist furiously reapplies some foundation to parts he has begun to sweat off from his nerves.
I stand in place, letting a staff member fix some last-minute mic attachments. I can still feel my heart pounding away. I go to reach for my amulet or my bracelet, something to calm me down or ease my heart but it occurs to me that my wardrobe staff had made me take them off for the performance since they didnt go with the 'aesthetic' of the concept. I try taking in and letting out deep breaths as the tech member finally readjusts my mic box and leaves me alone, knowing I go out on stage in less than two minutes. No matter how many deep breaths I let out, I can't overcome my nerves. I find myself shaking as I take my mic in my hands. I was scared.