dance: black by katie lee ( 0:43 - 1:28 )
rap: dream girl by lc9 ( 2:12 - 2:27 )
she doesn’t want to be here, but she doesn’t want to be anywhere else, either. this is the opportunity she’s been waiting for, what that feeling in her gut has been telling her to chase after ever since she saw sooyoung in the mgas. that same feeling tells her that this is where she needs to be right now, that nothing else in the world is more important at this moment.
of course, it’s kind of drowned out by the sheer panic that comes from the thought of an actual audition. she could barely handle just talking to a camera in the interview stage; how the hell is she supposed to actually perform in front of a panel of judges?
she takes deep breaths as she follows the kt employee through the unfamiliar halls. this is where sooyoung is all the time, nayoung can’t help thinking. if this goes well, i could join her. the hopeful thought makes her wince, because the last thing she wants is to get her hopes too high and have them crushed.
she suddenly misses her cat, wishes she could be home cuddling with mina in bed. it’s a panic-induced thought, she knows, but she can’t help but feel it deeply. she squeezes her hand into a fist, focusing on the sharp pain of her nails digging into her palm to ground her, bring her back to herself. it’s probably not a very healthy coping mechanism, but it works – it helps her focus on counting her breaths, ignoring the panicked thoughts racing through her mind, now banished to the dark corners to come back at some point later.
she wonders where sooyoung is now. somewhere in this building, she’s sure – the elder had told nayoung which days she usually went to the seocho building. part of nayoung wishes she’d told sooyoung about the callback, wishes the elder knew to come wish her luck before going in. but most of her thinks that this is how it should be: nobody else knows about her callback, and nobody’s hopes have been brought up except her own. the only person she risks disappointing today is herself.
they’ve reached hallway that seems to have been converted to a makeshift waiting area, with several chairs lined up along the wall. the staff member hands nayoung a sheet of paper to pin to her shirt – her own name printed in big letters, so the judges will know who they’re watching when they look back on her video. after gesturing her to what’s apparently an assigned seat, the staff leaves her to sit with the strangers in the hall, all of whom are also wearing their names on their fronts and most of whom look at least as nervous as nayoung feels.
closing her eyes, she begins mouthing the lyrics to her song, focusing hard on that to avoid thinking about anything else, about the others kt is auditioning. after running through the rap several times, she thinks of the song she’ll be dancing to and starts doing the gestures of the dance, though she keeps it small, just reminding herself that she still remembers the choreography.
she doesn’t know how long they wait. she loses count of how many times she silently rehearses, but soon enough the girl in front of her is called in to the room they’re sitting outside, and nayoung’s chest clenches in panic. she’s going second.
when her name is called, nayoung stands up and does her best to ignore the nervous nausea that sweeps over her. she can’t help her trembling as she walks to the door and follows the staff member into the room, where there’s a camera set up next to a long table of judges. nayoung’s eyes scan the table quickly, and her mouth drops open when she instantly recognizes katie lee sitting in the middle. i’m going to dance to a katie lee song in front of katie lee, is her first ridiculous thought.
she bows as she walks to the middle of the room, handing her flash drive with the music to the staff member who showed her in. she feels like her throat’s closed up, and she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to even speak, let alone rap.
“i-i’m–” her voice cracks, and she winces a little before clearing her throat and trying again. “i’m im nayoung. i-i’ll be dancing t-to…” she meets katie lee’s eyes and stops speaking, nerves closing her throat again before she forces the words out. “katie lee’s black,” she says, giving the woman a jerky nod. “then i’ll be rapping to lc9′s dream girl.”
the music starts, and its familiarity settles her slightly. she’s glad that she decided to start with dancing. it’s more familiar, more comfortable, and will hopefully help her nerves settle.
after just a few short notes, nayoung throws herself into the first move, swinging her arms over her head and bending down at her hips. from there, the dance comes easy to her, though she keeps careful counts in her head so that she doesn’t accidentally rush – that’s been her consistent problem in practice.
the dance is more sensual than she usually does, but she likes it. she’s been working on it for a few weeks now, and she’s long since gotten over the embarrassment of the sexier parts of the dance, which were added at sooyoung’s suggestion. the dance technically isn’t anything like contemporary or ballet, but it’s nayoung’s personal style, which combines the smooth gracefulness of those with the modern popping of hip hop. the song is perfect for it, too – with a solid percussion bass under the smooth vocals and consistent acoustics, it’s like the song was meant for her dance.
as if to communicate this, nayoung finds herself meeting eyes with katie lee during the parts of the dance where she’s facing the judges, her eyes ignoring the camera and skipping over the other faces to land on the artist of this song, the ceo of the company nayoung’s trying to get into. in her eyes is a daring kind of charisma that doesn’t show up when she’s speaking, that isn’t there except for when she’s dancing.
she doesn’t have the regular charisma of most idols, doesn’t find it easy to even introduce herself or get through a simple interview. but she’s a performer – it’s this determined, challenging charisma that kept her on the rink for so long, that got her to the junior grand prix twice. this is why she ultimately chose to dance for this audition, because this is what she wants to show kt. this is her true talent.
when she gets to the end of the chorus, she steps up and pops her limbs and head a few times, her ponytail jerking with every dramatic movement of her head. she ends the dance with a hand on the front of her leg, the other extended slightly near her hip. her eyes are still locked with katie lee’s until she breaks the contact, brushing a few loose strands of red hair out of her face and stepping back to the center of the room, trying to catch her breath.
“next i’ll be rapping to lc9′s dream girl,” she says, not giving herself any more time than absolutely necessary to catch her breath. she’ll rap a cappella, not needing the music for this. it would just detract from the focus of her rapping, especially with the high note that covers up the final lines. after licking her lips and taking a deep breath, nayoung begins to rap.
the feeling of seeing your eyes,
your lips, you’re so beautiful
she didn’t choose this song because she identified with the lyrics, but because she’s known the rap since shortly after the song was released. she’s loved lc9 for years, and has supported every comeback of theirs since their debut. she was lucky enough to see them in concert in seoul twice since she got into them, and she thinks it’s only appropriate that her first company audition – and for kt, no less – include one of their songs.
the rap lines come easily to her after years of doing them along with the song and under her breath when the song has been stuck in her head, and after the constant practicing of it she’s done in the last few days.
from one to a hundred, i treat you gently
the day you chose me is when the world stops
you’re my world
when the end of the song comes, nayoung opens her eyes and lowers her hands – she hadn’t even realized she’d closed her eyes, or that she’d been gesturing along with the imaginary beat while she rapped. the room is strangely silent now, lacking the sound of nayoung’s rap filling the room. she doesn’t find it difficult to speak anymore, and her eyes find katie lee’s again as she bows. “thank you for your time,” she says, her voice lacking all the shakiness and nerves from before.
when she straightens, she meets katie lee’s eyes one last time before bowing shallowly again and turning to leave.
it’s amazing what one minute of performing could do – it turned her nervous panic to adrenaline, and nayoung can’t help but smiling to herself as she leaves the room, following the staff’s directions to sit back down on her seat. a kind of giddiness fills her now, after what felt like a successful display of her talents.
that’s what she thinks about now, focusing on how good it feels to just perform, not letting herself think about the potential results of that performance, which she still knows was an audition.
