𝗦𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗽𝗶𝘁𝘆 || 𝒌𝒑𝒐𝒑 𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒕 ᴮᵒᵒᵏ ¹ [MAJOR REVISIONS👷]

❝𝗔 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗺❞(✔︎)

[ YEAR < June 12, 2013 > ]

❜ ─ Kala's POV ─ ❛

June 12, 2013, still felt surreal. Today was the day. D-day for my brother, Jimin-oppa, and his group, BTS, from Bighit Entertainment. Their debut MV was dropping, and tomorrow was their grand debut stage at M Countdown. Earlier, Jimin-oppa called, asking if we'd be there. My family—Mom, Dad, Jihyun-oppa, and I—were already in Seoul for my National Gymnastics Meet and Figure Skating competition. I lied, of course. I told him I had a dance schedule, saying only Jihyun-oppa and Mom would go, while Dad, my manager, and I would be at my "dance schedule."

It wasn't a complete fabrication. I did have a special dance performance a few hours before their debut. But there was no way I was missing their moment. I wouldn't let this opportunity to see him fulfill his dreams slip by. So, yes, tomorrow, our entire family would be there, cheering them on. A part of me was incredibly nervous. The media, the public, they can be so brutal. One wrong move, one harsh comment, and it could all come crashing down.

I remember the sting of hateful comments when I first started out, how every negative word felt like a physical blow. I'd cry to Mom, asking questions I knew hurt her to hear. To spare my family that pain, I learned to build a shield, to focus on my own self-worth. Two months ago, I met Jimin-oppa and gave him a heads-up about what to expect, about the courage and strong will they'd need to navigate the treacherous path ahead. Without it, their journey would be infinitely harder. Now, with my schoolwork done, I waited, glued to the screen for their MV release.




The moment the MV dropped, we were all fixated, watching with bated breath and admiration. "No More Dream." Wow. I hadn't expected such a strong, hip-hop concept. It reminded me a bit of Big Bang and Beast, yet it was clear BTS had their own distinct path. After the MV, Mom and Dad went to get dinner, while Jihyun-oppa went to shower. We were in a hotel, two connecting rooms—my parents in the king-sized room, Jihyun-oppa and I in the queen. I didn't mind; I can't sleep without cuddling something, and my insomnia makes nights difficult enough.

Left alone, I instinctively scrolled through netizen reactions. As expected, the comments were a mixed bag. The entertainment industry is a shark tank; it took me two years to make a name in gymnastics and almost three to be acknowledged as a dancer. You don't just waltz in and become famous overnight. Some comments were glowing, praising their music and style. But others were... cruel. They dissected every detail—the choreography, the styling, their voices—their words designed to wound.

How can they be so cruel?