Spreading Our Wings

reflection;

November 30, 2011, 6.30am - BigHit Entertainment

It's only 6.30am in the morning, where the sky outside is still a blanket of darkness, safe for a few traces of shimmering light emitted by the stars. Sleep is a distant dream. Our eyelids are all drooping due to the ache for sleep, but at the same time, a fire inside us continuously screams 'A day closer to our debut; we've got to keep working at it!', forcing them to snap open. For your information, no, I'm not a telepathist. But I do know, as with all the others here, that that fire is what had bridged a connection between seven friends who were otherwise strangers. Seven friends who are pursuing the same long-awaited dream.

For me, this is a cycle that has repeated for the past two and a half years, while for some others, for just a few months. We're all only going through the motion, like inflexible, stringent robots, just so that we can approach our dreams, albeit by baby small steps. The prospect of becoming an idol is so enthralling, yet it's like a mirage, a figment of imagination that can only remain as a dream. Still, no matter how small the chance is, all seven of us want to live our dream, rather than to dream our life.

The first step to becoming an idol is to debut. But as with all other major events, preparation is necessary. Our preparation is training.

But considering that we haven't been informed of our debut date, and we don't know where we can find this answer, this may just end up as a fruitless pursuit towards the haze.

Shut it, Kim Namjoon. We're going to debut. I know we will, for sure.

I shrug off my pestering doubts and instead divert all my attention to the training.

Training is just preparation, but the preparation itself is already taxing. Dancing and singing are two essential skills that an idol needs to have. I'm a rapper, so I'm safe for the singing aspect. However, my dancing skills are absolutely hopeless, and there is nothing I can do to cover that weakness up. If I am to use an analogy, I suppose I can compare my dancing to a worm squirming. Budging my stiff arms and legs free is easy enough, but being able to execute the movements smoothly and naturally is on a whole new level of toughness. I guess you can consider me a natural when it comes to awkward shifting.

Thanks to that, I have this heavy feeling that I have a lot I need to work on, and despite spending near to three years practising and practising, I still feel like I'm not up-to-par at all. And this fuels another desperate fire in my heart.

After four hours, we finish the first part of our morning training robotically, only stopping when the dance instructor forces us to sit down, claiming that we are performers who are meant to imbue energy in our performances, not suck energy away from them. I guess our faces must have appeared tragic. The mirrors on the walls of the training room reflect so—our hollow eyes, obvious eyebags and drastically pale faces.

However, it seems that the break is effective enough, because soon enough, Hoseok and Taehyung start fooling around as usual.

"Kim Taehyung, get your ass up now or something bad's gonna happen to you, real quick..." Hoseok chides with a low, booming voice, which sounds suspiciously like our dance instructor.

"Jung Hoseok, stop eating snacks or you're gonna get fat-" Before Taehyung can finish his rebuttal, Hoseok throws a potato chip wrapper at him. The crumbs spill all over the ground and over Taehyung, whose face is turning into a strange ashen grey.

I nonchalantly mention, "I know you two are obedient young lads, but remember to clean up the mess you've made. Just saying."

I steel my heart and ignore the deranged cries that are coming out from Kim Taehyung.