20ft. From Forever | Jeon Jungkook [On Hold]

1 • Sing

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"Sing."

Her respirations increased, and the familiar dull burn of anxiety flourished in her chest. She looked out at several smiling faces, only one of which looked similar to hers, their gazes intimidating despite their prolific friendliness. One of them nodded in encouragement for her to fulfill their simple yet difficult request.

Just sing. It's what you flew thousands of miles to do.

Caramel colored hands picked up a pair of expensive headphones and placed them on her ears over her long hair so as to not mess up the style she had paid an obscene amount for and spent several hours in a stylist's chair to achieve. A pink tongue darted out over red stained lips, and an exhaled prayer that the plane's cabin air hadn't dried out her vocal cords passed through them.

To her understanding, she had already gotten the job. She had already sent in digital recordings of her work in the studio, footage from live performances, and even sang over video conference, proving she was the right candidate to fill the recently vacated position. However, one of the executives of Iconic Entertainment was just on his way out as she was on her way in and wanted to see what he was investing his hard earned money in.

Quinn had briefed her that things here were pali pali , or fast paced, so if an executive was taking precious time out of his schedule to hear her sing, it would be in her best interest to do so, and with neither fear nor delay.

She looked down at the pop filter in front of the microphone, expanded her diaphragm, and sang.

Notes and lyrics from a song sung by an American singer filled the sound booth. The song was safe for her vocal range and cold instrument, and the original singer well known enough that she was sure her asian employers would instantly recognize the melody. She was a literal worldwide pop icon who's face she had seen on a billboard in Seoul earlier that very day.

Line by line she felt her instrument begin to warm, becoming more pliant, more true, more trustworthy. She shifted her body forward slightly, her heels coming a mere breath from the floor and her chest lifting as she melted into the song and into the eyes of her audience one by one. They were gradually pulled into the lyrics without them realizing, and if not, they were pulled into the spell of the melody that surpassed the language barrier as if it were nonexistent.

Deep in her belly, she began to feel it, just as she did every time she sang. A quiet happiness, the wing flutter of a single butterfly, and the delicate whisper of pleasant memories. Music reverberated in her chest, spreading throughout her being and leaving no part of it untouched, just as the sun's rays covers open fields.

The notes, unseen but felt, swirled around her the way October leaves dance in the autumn wind. Her hand joined them, floating on its own accord, gesticulating, gracefully weaving its way through the invisible sharps and flats in the air before finally resting on her middle.

Elation is what she felt when the executive lifted his head and a corner of his mouth simultaneously, the two assistants sitting on either side of him responding in a similar fashion. They weren't the standard audience members that would become enthralled at the simple ability for someone to sing on key, so their subtle approval spoke louder than the sound of her own voice in her ears.

Because a slow nod of the head and the eyes narrowed in fascination from someone with a trained ear gave her more positive reinforcement than a crowd of people cheering.

She closed the song with a breathy voice, a small smile lifting her cheeks, and it was only then that she realized her eyes had closed at some point.