And All That Could Have Been [HIATUS]

008 • PARK JIMIN

"Now, on the count of 5, I need you to move sharply to your right so that Jimin has room to cross over to the next position. Ok ? Let's try it. 5, 6, 7, 8. 1, 2, 3, 4, slide !"

Sitting on a stool at the front of the practice room, Hoseok is beating time with his hands for Taehyung and Jimin to practice the new song transition they will perform on stage.

"You need to be faster, go again."

The boys move back into position to resume the sequence, and again, and again, the ceaseless pounding of their feet against the wood floor reverberating across the studio. Thirty minutes later, Hoseok is finally satisfied enough with their coordination to decide on one last round of practice together. The trio has to be in perfect sync at this moment of the show, because the other four members need this transition time to get in place for their solo parts. Every spotlight, every gaze will be fixed on them three, anything less than excellence is therefore unacceptable.

Before joining them, Hoseok goes over to the computer laying atop the stereo system, in the far corner of the room. He sets everything up for the video recording, using the camera fixed above the wall of mirrors as a digital judge of the performance. The song starts and when their transition comes up, he begins to count over the music to cue the dance, making sure the three of them are right on time for the next steps until the end of their part. The practice is taking its toll as they all start panting heavily as soon as the last of the music stops, resting with their hands on their knees for a few minutes before walking over to the computer for the verdict.

After a first viewing of the complete dance, Jimin replays it once more to press pause at the moment where he and Taehyung need to switch places. On the frozen screen, everyone is holding the same exact position, down to the placement of their fingers or the bend of their knees.

He points out to his brothers, "This is still a bit too close Tae, it works but it doesn't convey enough of the flow intended for this choreography." His critical eye goes over every detail on the screen, focusing on his posture the longest. "And my shoulders are too stiff, it could wreck my balance if I don't fix this."

Nervously sweeping his hair back, Jimin moves back to the middle of the room and goes again at the incriminated move to correct what he perceives as defaults in his dancing. On his third pass, Taehyung calls a halt to his practice and, considering the late hour, offers that they take a break for diner. He declines the food offer though, choosing instead to keep on practising, but he still promises to get something later to assuage his brothers' worry.

Once he has closed the door behind them, he proceeds to draw the blinds on the interior window wall for added privacy from staff walking by the corridor, even at this late hour. Two of the seven practice rooms at the company headquarters are for their own exclusive use 24 hours a day, which gives them tranquillity and small benefits, like having their own lockers at the entrance of the room. Jimin's holds nothing unexpected : his bag, bottles of water, a change of clothes, a towel. The locker door is a bare black surface with his name handwritten on a white tag, while the inside is decorated with worn stickers and pictures his brothers or his fans gave him through the years. Those never fail to bring a smile to his face each time he looks at them, no matter how exhausted he may be.

From his gym bag, he retrieves a hairband to tie the longest part of his bleached hair into a small bun, then grabs one of his bottles of water. Slowly drinking, he walks around in circles in the empty room, his mind focused on the sequence he feels the need to improve. Moving back to the computer, he reviews his dancing once more to pinpoint the exact movements he is not yet satisfied with.

Alone in the practice room, with his brothers' music to keep him company and giving free rein to his body, Jimin's mind quiets down as he gives himself up to his dancing. He set the volume on a low level to focus inward, attentive to his sensations, encountering his body in a new way each time he dances. The clarity of the experience, embracing what he was made for, is a balm that never fails to soothe every ache, every sacrifice the last seven years required of him to reach this level. As he is dancing, a feeling of elation creeps in, amplifying this new instinct that has slowly taken him over these last few days.