BTS SMERALDO THE NOTES 1 (Edited & Translated)

Hoseok: 12 August Year 22

The Direction Where the Sun Rises
Part 7.2

"I like your movements," he said, gesturing to the video. "Not every dancer can move like that."

I looked at myself in the video. I liked the way I looked when I danced. I could forget about the world for a while when I danced. I felt like I was flying. When I wasn't on stage, I was tied down by the responsibilities I had to the world around me.

I couldn't stay in the air with my feet on the ground. I had to smile and seem happy even when I felt I was at my lowest. I took medication I didn't need. I used to collapse in the street randomly. There were moments in my life when I could show others my true self. There were moments where I believed I could truly be happy again.

There were moments where I could forget all my problems and revel in the weightlessness I felt. Moments I could have onstage that weren't possible offstage. When I danced, I was able to have moments such as these.

"I heard you overcame a serious injury."

The man stared at me. I knew I was being rude, but I had to bring it up. The man looked down at my cast before he spoke.

"Height is important, but so is depth," he started. "You have to hot your lowest point, where you can't possibly go any lower, you have to feel that emotion to your fullest while you're down there, in that place...

Then you escape from it, because once you find what drives you forward as a dancer when you're at your lowest point, you will be able to stand firm in your passion. Once you find that force, don't ever let it go. It can be a person or a desire. It can be evil or disgusting. Whatever your driving force is, to carry on dancing, stick to it. No matter what it is."

That was our first and last conversation. As the tour carried on, I never had another chance to talk to him. I still watched him dance, though. I though deeply about what he'd said. About what my deepest despair was and how it could be my own driving force as a dancer.

"Do you live in Songju?" a staff member asked me. "The director also lives there," he explained as I looked through a promotional leaflet while we waited at the train station.

The leaflet was about the fireworks festival in Songju, on Yangjicheon's shores. August 30th. As far back as I could remember, I went to this festival every year at the end of summer. When I was at the orphanage we used to sit on the roof and watch. After I left the orphanage, I found an apartment on the top most floor. I had a perfect view to see the fireworks. Although the apartment was far from where the festival was held, I could still see them without having any other buildings in the way.

"Did you change your mind overnight?" the staff member asked me. He was the one who had suggested I join the staff a few days ago with a permanent job. "We thought you'd be good for the job since you're talented and reliable."

The staff members were enthustastic about it. They wanted me to join the team. And I almost said yes. I'd grown so attached to them over the past few weeks without even realising it. Touring was an arduous job, but I enjoyed it.

My ankle would heal gradually as I continued to work with them too. Maybe I'd be able to become a performer for them and do an audition after my ankle healed. Maybe I'd be able to have that man as a mentor. He'd be able to teach me more about depth while dancing too.

I began to think that this might be where I belong.

"Sleep on it," the staff member told me.

"I can't accept, but thank you." That was the answer I gave him last night. "I have to go back."

"Are you sure?" he asked me.

"Yes," I replied, picking up my bag. "I have to get this cast off as well."

I got on the next train at the opposite track. I'd arrive at Songju in two hours. It felt thrilling. I hadn't been pushed to hit my mental limit yet. It might never happen.

Snippets of my conversation with the man came back to me then.

"I won't contact you ever again. You live your own life. Don't ever come back>"

Maybe Yoongi hit his lowest point mentally that day when I crossed paths with him.

I remember Yoongi called for me as I walked away from him. I didn't look back once. I abandoned him. When he had been suffocated by his own despair, I ran away.

I hesitated for a moment then I sent Yoongi a message: Are you okay?

Each day, my guilt grew as I thought about how I jus left Yoongi that day and was so harsh to him

I hadn't responded to Jimin's message on the group chat yet either.

Yoongi replied at dawn the next day, I woke up with a start when the notification came through. His name popped up on the screen. He'd sent me a music file.

I put in my earphones and played the file, listening with my eyes closed. It was beautiful and so different to anything he'd ever made before. Joy, despair, sorry, all in one song. The notes leaped up and down with energy. It was much like Yoongi himself. This song was Yoongi.

What's the name of the song? That's what I texted back.

Instead of answering he asked me when I was coming back.

I arrived back at Songju around midday. The station was quiet. There were some people there with their heavy suitcases, ready to leave. They reminded me of myself when I left. Right now I was wearing the same thing I wore when I left. My suitcase was around the same weigh as it had been back then as well. Not much had changed.

My ankle felt much better. It healed. My ankle wasn't the only thing that had healed though.

I opened our group chat and finally sent through a message:

What's up my friends! I'm finally back! How have you all been?

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