Josephine Swan never imagined that her stay in South Korea would lead her into K-Pop's glittering and challenging world. Each day, she encounters new hurdles and adventures that fate has in store for her and her four team members. Between gruelling...
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My grey eyes remained fixed on the sizeable wall-covered mirror.
The wide straps of my black sports bra cut firmly into the flesh of my shoulder, slightly reassuring me of its security and stability. The tight fit of the elasticated leggings fabric against my slender legs, which thankfully did not slacken with any extensive movement on my part, was also reassuring.
The muscles and ligaments of my thin neck shifted and shifted, allowing the vocal training and the necessary swallowing, which had tripled since the beginning of today when the monthly performances were reassessed. Again, adding to this, my heart pounding in the centre of my chest, beating with adrenaline, combined with breathing drenched in excitement.
Parris Renee Goebel was a New Zealand-born dancer, choreographer and co-founder of the Auckland-based Palace Dance Studio, which has produced several amazingly talented dance groups whose successes in recent years have included not only gold, silver and bronze medals but also high-ranking places in international dance competitions such as the World Hip-Hop Dance Championships. An enthusiastic dancer from a young age, she has worked with many well-known and famous artists such as Justin Bieber, Jennifer Lopez and, last but not least, Rihanna.
One of her most recognised choreographies by the K-Pop industry and YG Entertainment was Taeyang's Ringa Linga, his duet performance Good Boy with G-Dragon, iKon's Rhythm Ta, and finally, her memorable participation in BigBang's successful single Bang Bang Bang.
Most recently, she and her dance group, The Royal Family, gained attention at "The World of Dance Los Angeles" in August, enchanting the audience and judges with a vivid display of complex and uniformly routine dance moves and a precise sense of rhythm, choreographed to the powerful music and artists they selected.
Starting with Rihanna's trap song Bitch Better Have My Money, released in March.
Rihanna's unmistakable smoky voice rang loudly through the dance studio, and I could feel the expectant focus of those watching on our six bodies as Jennie, Choi, and Ji-soo began to move in sync to the dance remix of the song.
Don't act like you forgot
Their hands were carefully placed in front of their lower bodies, and their heads leaned leisurely towards the right side. Their erect upper bodies and hips followed automatically while their legs remained firmly planted on the floor and swayed to the rhythm of the music.
The legs of the three dancing girls facing the audience bent suddenly; their hands finally slid apart and supported their bent torsos, and their heads lowered to the floor with the help of their thighs. Abruptly, Lisa, Rosé and I sprang out of the background and turned our backs to the mirror, waving our arms and partially splayed fingers aggressively above our heads before falling into the same position as our predecessors and disappearing crouched from the audience's field of vision.
I call the shots, shots, shots
My lengthy braided pigtail slapped hard against my bare skin as soon as the back of Choi's knees buckled in control after the brief use of her circling arms, and my back straightened. I curled my arms and hands like a well-aimed rifle as the sound of several shots rang out over the speakers, and my movements mimicked the fire.
Like bra, bra, bra
Similarly adapting to the stormy tempo, our bodies quickly repeated the respective sequences of bending and stretching until Lisa, Rosè, and I stepped sideways out of the shadows and into the visible spaces between our fellow dancers at the beginning of the following line.
Y'all should know me well enough
Our right arms stretched out towards the onlookers sitting opposite us, our wrists and index fingers circling conspicuously and distracting us from our leisurely and contradictory steps. We used the gaps we had created to change position and alter our initial focus.
An incisive sound effect of the remix sounded simultaneously with the decisive thud of our pairs of feet standing at attention on the hardened floor, and my eyes immediately focused independently on the bare wall above the heads of the sternly judging attendees.
I felt the gentle rush of cold air on my damp back as Choi's arms rose in fluttering swings of the ceiling, matching the movements of our surrounding members uniformly.
Bitch better have my money
The edited chorus and title of the song repeatedly rasped through the packed room, letting out only torn fragments of the verse, which were further emphasised by our short, jerky and mechanical arm movements. Lisa and Rosè's fingers tapped my upper arms, trembling like hard muscle contractions in time with the music, while my hands trembled similarly, spreading across my chest and bare stomach. In the altered remix beats that followed, my arms splayed away from my upper body and shifted in height with my index fingers raised before retreating from their position and back to the side of my body after several more erratic movements.
Bitch better have my money
Bitch better have my money
Bitch better have my money
Bitch better have my money
The fast beat of the song suddenly pounded through the speakers set up, abruptly replacing the faltering vocal sounds of the singer as our right arms began to exaggerate and rotate in unison with the music. Instinctively, my leg bent and used the force and energy exerted by the rotation to push my dancing body out of the group's centre and to the far edge of the floor.
With my body's sideways rotation and the rhythm's unchanging pulsation, my hips and buttocks began to thrust backwards. My arms lay bent in front of my torso, and I felt the impulsive thrusts with clapping, overlapping hand movements before they alternated once again in discreet circular movements combined with my hips' sideways thrusting.
As my body turned again, my arms stretched towards the light-covered ceiling while my dancing legs pulled me backwards sideways behind Lisa's advancing figure. The young Thai woman's coloured, chest-length hair swirled around her head, presumably blocking much of her view as her arms alternately sank into outstretched bends and stretches, and I joined her in counter-shifted synchronised dance movements.
With a subsequent swing of our arms above our heads, we came to a standstill with our legs spread out to the side with an energetic, resounding beat of the verse that had sounded before.
