BTS SMERALDO THE NOTES 1 (Edited & Translated)

Hoseok: 12 August Year 22

The Direction Where the Sun Rises
Part 7.1

Someone shoved my shoulder as I got off the train. I dropped the ticket I was holding too. It fell onto the railroad and slipped into one of the gaps. I looked around. It was summer when I left. It was still hot now. The train departed for the next station, stirring up the wind.

At the end July, I left Songju on this same train. I remember watching the city grow smaller as I left the platform. I'd never left Songju before I never thought I'd ever live anywhere else. I lived by a schedule, going to work at the burger joint, then the dance studio, every day. Then I'd go home after hours of dancing and sleep. Although Songju was a small town, I felt I had purpose there, like I had something to do and somewhere to be.

After I injured my ankle, that whole routine fell apart. I went to work and to the studio wearing a soft cast every day. My ankle only got worse after that. I had to take sick leave after I switched over to a hard cast. My had no routine in my life for the next three weeks of leave. No work, no dancing, and nowhere to be for three full weeks.

The first day of leave, through the morning, everything was fine. The rain that had continued to fall through the night stopped when morning came. I spent the morning cleaning the house and sorting through my clothes. I wiped the rain from the bench outside. I even got a haircut. But by the time the afternoon came around, I had nothing else to do.

My phone never rang once. There were a few messages from the Just Dance Studio co-workers and some from the burger joint, but that was it. Now that I was less busy, it dawned on me that I was always the one to contact others first.

This time, I didn't want to be the one to get in contact first. What if no one sent me a message first? Then so be it. I remembered what I said to Yoongi the night before when I crossed paths with him. I sprang to my feet and scolded myself. "He won't remember what I said anyways!"

The way home seemed farther than usual after I left Yoongi there. I had to make my way up that slope on crutches too. Although the sun had set, the air was still thick with humidity. By the time I got home, I was drenched in sweat.

I didn't regret what I'd said to Yoongi. It was time for him to stop feeling sorry for himself. Even though I didn't feel guilty, I couldn't stop thinking about our encounter.

On the rooftop, I could look down on the city without having to worry about others looking at me. I spotted the train passing through the downtown area. I carelessly threw my clothes into a bag and headed to the station. I browsed through the list of cities in front of the ticket office and picked the largest city nearby. I thought it would be better to live in a city bigger than Songju. And so, that was the moment I finally left Songju for the first time.

After a two-hour long trip, I got off the train. When I made my way out of the station, the intersection was filled with people. There were so many high-rise buildings too. I took the first bus that came my way.

"Where should I get off?" I asked the driver as I got on.

He gave me an incredulous look, as if I was speaking some other foreign language. A passenger who asks his own destination? Yes, I must've sounded stupid.

After about twenty minutes the bus stopped at a neighbourhood in the old part of town. I decided to keep my bag by a small room attached to a market with a "Guesthouse" sign up front. After that was taken care of, I decided to wander aimlessly around the neighbourhood. I had no idea where I was heading.

There were no high-rises here, no brightly lit commercial districts in sight. It was so similar to my neighbourhood in Songju. Think of that! The first time I decide to leave Songju, I end up finding another one! I tried not to think about what I had just left behind, coming here to this new city. No matter how hard I tried to forget my life for a while, I couldn't, I may have left Songju for now, nut my mind was still there.

On my third day in this strange new city, I decided to venture out farther. After twenty minutes, I was exhausted of walking around in my crutches. Ahead of me was the Citizen's Hall. I busied myself at a vending machine when I saw the hall's doors open and people walking out. I heard music come form inside. I caught a glimpse of someone on a stage inside, a spotlight illuminating his figure.

Before I knew it, I was on my way to the hall. I closed the door behind me, now alone in the darkness with the music. I sat down in the nearest seat. The man on the stage moved slowly with so much grace as the music lapped through the hall like waves. He was only stretching, but he made the ordeal seem like a choreography on its own. The music stopped, the man got up and made his way to the centre of the stage. The music started up again.

This time, the music came in torrents. His dancing was graceful, but more precise this time around. His movements blended into each other, tensed and relaxed to the music. His movements conveyed all the frustration and flurry of emotions that were probably running through his mind as he danced. His dancing was able to convey those emptions so perfectly, that I ended up feeling them too as I watched him.

By the time the lights were on in the hall again, I wasn't aware of exactly how much time had passed. I sat in my seat, unmoving.

Someone came up to me to ask me to leave because their dancers were rehearsing. Outsiders weren't allowed to stay. As I left, I took a look at the dance academy's poster outside on the door. The man I'd seen on stage wasn't there. They were performing the day after tomorrow by the looks of it.

When I got back to the Guest House, I sat on the bench outside for a while. I closed my eyes and went over the memories I had from watching the rehearsal today. It was the first time for me to see a performance in person. For once, I wasn't the performer, but a part of the audience. I savoured the memories I had of his graceful movements ingrained in my mind.

The moment was quickly taken away when I heard a notification ding on my phone. It was a message from Jimin. "Where are you, Hoseok?" There were no other messages after that.

What should I say? I always texted back, half-jokingly to explain myself. I didn't want to explain myself this time. This was the first time I didn't respond to a text message. Our group chat fell silent again.

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