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.
The night had set a couple hours ago, leaving the street aglow in neons and with a steady flow of people headed for a night out or a night in. All Yuta knew was his fingers were cold as he adjusted the microphone in his hands and tried to ignore the palpitations of his heart. It was not nerves, or that was what he insisted when his friend asked him if he was okay. When he’d been selecting songs, he’d so avidly insisted upon this one. Because it was hardly appropriate and yet appropriate enough that he could argue he wasn’t going to get arrested for public disturbance. Whether for his singing voice or the song, that was on debate. Nonetheless, he peered past his bangs and adjusted his leather jacket in an attempt to shake off the cold chill. He’d picked looks over comfort.
A knock of a hand to his back and his friend was telling him that he was ready. Everything was set.
Yuta closed his eyes momentarily, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly; like his mother had taught him the first time he had to act in a drama next to her. A stammered end result, but it had been enough for the director and Yuta’s gushing mother had stroked his ego further in the years after. His throat cleared, his head nodded, and his shirt adjusted into place as he glanced towards his friend in signal for being read. The smooth beat of the beginning began, Yuta slipping forward and into the easy roll of his body as he began,
“Baby--”
there’s only a small moon in the sky tonight
It covers your softly trembling shadow
Baby, stay just like that
My lips are reflected on your clear lips
Your hand pulls me like it’ll touch but not
We’re black out lay down
Our noisy love song
Keep it going, hold tight
Your red lips make
Lips make me
As people stopped to watched or glanced over, Yuta grew in confidence and allowed himself to feel the music more. One hand holding the microphone to his lips as he let the other follow with the wave of the beat, his sneakers working in slides and his hips rolling when necessary. He felt the music, let it move through him and eased through the chorus with a loose charismatic hold on a girl who had stopped to watch him perform. Pick someone in the crowd, center his energy on seducing them until he’s slipping back with the tug of a smirk; a twist and click of his fingers.
Red light green light black out
This is what I feel like
My eyes are blinded, lower the bright lights
I can find you even if I can’t see
Your hand pulls me like it’ll touch but not
We’re black out lay down
Our noisy love song
Keep it going, hold tight
Your red lips make
Lips make me
There was the subtlest points in his dance, in the repeated rhythmic motions and he left the spark of each of his steps play out slowly. Slow, smooth, easy and then cut with the twist, with the jerk of his hand to his shoulder and rolled out at his shoulders. His voice barely strained, his bangs falling messily and his jacket slipping as he tugged at the denim jeans unnecessarily with his movements. Choosing out another passerby as he came to the music, wearing a boyish smile and putting more energy into his movements; like he was dancing at a club, like he was playing around, like he could own anything he wanted. Empty hand slipping down his body with wave, the roll, until he gripped the buckle and button, tugging roughly and cutting back into the chorus at the beat.
Wet my heart, make it rain
So it won’t dry, so it won’t hurt
Raining in my room
Hug me
Feel my warmth
So I can fall asleep yeah
Wet wet I need an umbrella
Wet wet I need an umbrella
Yuta lessened his concentration, releasing more and more as he came to the end of the song; a smile winning over his lips and his eyes glinting with every hint of mischief. “Wet, wet, wet, baby. Wet, wet, wet, baby.” Steps, and slides, and biting the corner of his mouth as he finished the song with a refresh sense of pride and a stroked ego.
LOCATION: SEOCHO TRAINING FACILITY
TIME: 0900 KOREAN STANDARD TIME
she’d planned to start her day at seven in the morning in order to start getting ready for the day so that getting a ride from yixing wouldn’t make him late to his schedules, but after getting up at six after her bladder insisted on being empty, she’d been unable to get back to sleep since then. normally, it wouldn’t be so big a deal since she’s used to getting up early for shoots when she’s the one applying makeup, but it’s a problem when she’s the one on which the makeup is being applied, and she knows more than anyone the struggles of hiding bad eye bags that are the result of a ninety minute power nap.
but they couldn’t really blame her for that, could they? sure, she’s always been at home at a shoot around the gorgeous models and well-known photographers and powerful magazine editors, but to be the one in front of the camera has her thrown for a loop.
she knows how lucky it is to even be granted this opportunity when it could lead to so many other greater things, such as a solid stepping stone for her to achieve her actual dreams of getting into one of the big five companies to perform for a living, and she appreciates that. but she wants to dance and she wants to sing and she wants to be on a stage. some might consider a photo shoot just another version of that, but it’s hard for her to see that when being a model is such a foreign concept for her.
getting the almost obligatory pep talk from yixing before stepping into the studio for the sportswear photoshoot helps put some of those thoughts at ease, though, so the application of makeup and going through wardrobe seems fairly simple. it’s as if she’s the one on the other end again, conversation coming as easily as it does when she’s the one with the brush in hand, words lively and hands and body animated to match. she almost forgets the reason she’s there, but reality comes crashing down when she’s called for her turn in front of the cameras.
she freezes up.
she becomes a rock, immovable, and her expression is rigid and awkward. it’s as if she’s a prehistoric human preserved in a solid block of ice and the photographer is from the national geographic, taking photographic evidence for the missing link between humans and their ancestors. she almost wants to cry because she knows how bad she’s blowing it simply by the look in the photographer’s and the assitants’ eyes, and she swallows hard, not knowing what to do or what to say. if it were an option, she might have just run out of there without completing the shoot.
but then there are words of advice, and as simple and as sarcastic as they are, they help, because it reminds her of the theme, and of all the direction she’s heard given at other shoots, reminds her that all her experience should be an advantage because even if she’s never been in front of the camera, she’s seen people who were, and through that, she’s learned.
“why don’t you try moving?”
it’s that easy. the words spur her on and she moves. they’re small gestures at first---a tiny pose here, a small wave there, but then she’s absorbing the newfound energy of the room and she’s as active as ever, using the aura that surrounds them as a soundless music to her actions and she’s dancing and it’s the most natural feeling in the world.
by the time the shoot comes to an end, she’s completely forgotten it was a shoot at all. she’s out of breath and a little overwhelmed, but the grin on her face and animated thanks she gives to all the staff involved as she leaves the set lets everyone and herself know that she’s satisfied. even if nothing comes from this, it’s just another experience to put under her belt to help propel her forward, a learning experience.
because meng meiqi has never been one to fall back.
NaJi has posted a new video!
[DANCE] Old Friends - Jasmine Blue (Jonas Blue Remix) // ft. KIM CHUNGHA!
the video is really a result of them just messing around in one of yonsei’s dance studios, chungha and nayoung taking turns to come up with random choreography to whatever song came up in their playlist, with jiu laughing as she filmed them, occasionally being dragged in to join and leaving the phone filming on a tripod the university so kindly provided in each room.
when looking back on the videos while sitting against the mirror to take a break, nayoung figures they could just combine them into a full, proper choreography, and she picks a remix they’d listened to earlier that she’d liked for its peppy beat and consistent mention of the word “friends.”
( under the seemingly cold surface, nayoung is truly a simple girl. )
it takes a couple more hours, but eventually they have a cohesive choreography, and they film it right then and there, with nayoung as the center and focus of the video since it was her idea in the first place.
it starts with just her, moving easily to the opening of the song, grinning to jiu and chungha giving her big thumbs-up and making dumb faces at her from the edge of the room, unseen by the camera. this opening part is mostly of her own creation, and it shows in the style, which is full of the smooth movements and dramatic hand and arm movements influenced from nayoung’s ballet and contemporary experience. she loves it, loves the fact that she now has hip hop influences to add to that already-unique style, loves how incredibly her it feels.
she only gets about twenty seconds to herself before jiu and chungha run in, taking their places behind her. as the song brightens, so do they, even holding hands at one point before nayoung spins them both out, a rare wide grin on her face as she does.
this part is heavily influenced by jiu and chungha’s own styles, and the difference shows, but nayoung still loves it. she loves dancing with them, loves the over-the-top joy of the moves themselves. her grin doesn’t leave for the rest of the dance, and several times she meets her friends’ eyes in the mirror and see that they’re also clearly having fun. and even though they’re just performing for a camera and a mirror, it’s still incredibly fun and still manages to give nayoung the rush that performing always does, that amazing pump of adrenaline and glee that she’s chasing after in this dream.
the dance ends with nayoung’s arms around her two best friends, the three of them grinning before jiu rushes forward, waving cheerfully at the lens before moving her hand over it, cutting the video to black.
when editing, nayoung lets the song’s chorus replay quietly at the end of the video as she positions their usual logos and links to subscribe. rewatching the final product, she stares at herself dancing, amazed at the smile on her own face. more than anything else, that grin is what tells her she’s on the right path, and that she’s following it with the right people.
nayoung skates easily around the outdoor rink, the brisk wind feeling good on her face. the night is chilly, but her body is warm from the movement around the ice rink. the bright green vest she wears over her couple layers of jackets and sweaters makes her stand out even with the clusters of people enjoying the rink, and the ones her fellow volunteers wear make them easy to pick out from the crowds as well.
she dodges slow-moving families and couples easily, skating just as easy as walking after so many years. occasionally, she stops to help people who have fallen, making sure they’re okay before watching them skate off, often red-faced and laughing with their equally exhilarated friends or family.
nayoung can hardly remember what it was like to skate like a lot of these people do, but she knows that she was there at one point too. she’s spent too much time working at the ice rink and leading classes to ever judge others on the way they skate as beginners -- after all, judging them for it will only lead to them not wanting to do it again, and nayoung doesn’t want them to have negative memories of her or of skating.
so she keeps it positive -- if a bit quiet. she provides encouraging smiles to people who cling to the wall, and though she can’t bring herself to go over and actually teach them -- that’s not what they’re here for, after all -- she keeps an eye on certain people throughout their time on the rink and feels a small, odd rush of pride when she notices them skating away from the wall after a while.
“nayoung-ah!” her manager’s voice brings nayoung out of her trance, and she follows the flow of skaters to the wall where the woman is standing. touching the wall to bring herself to a stop, nayoung raises an eyebrow, but before she can say anything, the woman is already babbling. “i’m going to switch you for jisung,” she says. “he’s horrible at folding clothes, and we need to get them all organized. we keep getting more, and we need to keep them sorted as we go so we don’t have to be here until dawn. keep things folded as well as you can, and put them in cases based on if they’re men’s, women’s, kids’, whatever.”
nayoung nods, and hovers near the exit while she waits for jisung to show up -- she can’t leave the rink without her replacement being here, thanks to the rules. all the volunteers are either employees at nayoung’s home rink or members of its upper level skating classes or hockey team, so all of them are qualified to be the ones skating around making sure the public is following the safety rules.
when jisung shows up a minute later, his familiar grin on his face, he raises a hand for a high-five as he enters the rink. with a chuckle, nayoung raises her hand to return it, before moving it out of the way as soon as jisung came in to complete the motion. “too slow,” she deadpans, and steps out of the rink without looking back, though jisung’s laughter follows her to the bench where she sits to exchange her skates for boots.
SAMSUNG C&T CASTING - ROUND TWO !
concept: cocktail party
nayoung has no idea what she’s doing. she signed up for the modeling thing more on a whim than anything else -- as a feeble attempt to chase a half-formed dream in her mind. every time she asks herself what she’s doing here, though, she thinks of sooyoung, and how amazing she was on the mgas. she thinks of how proud her parents looked of her cousin’s accomplishment, and finds her determination again. she isn’t jealous of sooyoung -- she’s just as proud of her as the rest of the family. but she wants her parents to look at her like that; she craves nothing more than to have them be truly proud to call her their daughter.
nayoung shows up to the seocho complex twenty minutes before the arrival time she was told, always being more comfortable arriving at an unfamiliar event and remembering sooyoung’s rants about how big the place is. upon arriving, nayoung immediately recognizes that her cousin was right -- the seocho complex is huge. however, thanks to the generous amount of signs and employees pointing her in the right direction, nayoung has no trouble finding the modeling area.
she bows frequently, at least once to each person she talks to. her words are polite and quiet when she needs to speak to any of the employees, and by the time she reaches her first stylist nayoung feels like a jack-in-the-box from bowing up and down so much.
“which concept are you going to do, dear?” the woman preparing to do nayoung’s makeup asks.
nayoung replies instantly, a small, polite smile on her lips. “cocktail,” she says confidently. it hadn’t taken much effort to decide which one to go with -- as a former figure skater and ballerina, the gracefulness needed for a fancy cocktail party theme comes easily to her, and what some of her friends call “stony” expressions may fit nicely into the atmosphere.
the stylist gets to work right away, and nayoung quickly loses count of the different types of makeup that are applied to her face. she closes her eyes when she’s told, occasionally moving her head this way and that as the woman instructs her.
she has no idea how long it takes, but finally her makeup is finished. she looks at herself in the mirror and smiles a bit at how pretty she is. she’s always been self-conscious of things like her round cheeks and too-small mouth, but the way the stylist applied the makeup makes nayoung appreciate even the features of her face that she’s never liked before. it isn’t her first experience with professionally applied makeup -- she sat in the chair a lot during her ballet days, especially -- but it’s still nice to feel so pretty.
she bows graciously and thanks the stylist before following directions into the next room, where she finds another stylist waiting among racks of fancy dresses and suits. this doesn’t take as long as the makeup -- the stylist takes one look at nayoung, nods to herself, and immediately rustles through the racks for a moment before removing a knee-length, sleeveless black dress. nayoung dresses behind a divider, folding her clothes and leaving them on a chair that the stylist indicates. she then slips into a pair of black heels and looks at herself in the mirror.
the dress reminds her of one of her first free skate costumes, and she finds herself smiling again at the memory. the costume was the one she wore at her second junior nationals, where she placed third -- her first time ever winning a medal.
she has to pull herself out of the memory quickly as she bows again and thanks this stylist, too, before moving into the actual set. this, like so many things at the seocho facility, is bigger than it probably should be, but nayoung keeps these thoughts quiet and swallows down her nerves as she bows repeatedly to every employee she passes.
she has to wait a bit before it’s her turn, but she recognizes plenty of people around the room -- it seems many of her friends also signed up for this, and also chose the cocktail party concept. nayoung manages a couple short, quiet conversations with a few of them, but nobody sticks around for very long after they’ve finished shooting.
when it’s finally her turn, she bows to the photographer as she introduces herself, and, after watching several others pose before her, is unsurprised when he greets her cheerfully. she wonders if whoever’s in charge told all the employees to be gentle with the models, since most of them are amateurs.
“alright nayoung-ssi,” the photographer’s voice pulls her from her thoughts, and she reminds herself to pay attention. “we’ll start with you on the couch, i think. sit here by this arm, yes, like that, and rest your elbow on it -- perfect!” he exclaims as nayoung places her chin daintily in her palm, her fingertips resting lightly on her cheek as she stares at the camera.
after a few clicks of the camera, she realizes she’s held what’s essentially a poker face so far. to mix it up, she raises an eyebrow and quirks the corner of her lips upward in a tiny, mona lisa-esque smile.
the same cycle continues for about ten minutes, with nayoung changing position every few shots. she sits on the courch, stands behind it, and sits on the side of the arm, and all of her focus stays on keeping her figure graceful and her expressions vibrant. if she doesn’t focus on what her face is doing, she knows it’ll fall back into her natural resting bitch face, and she knows from experience that that doesn’t make for a good picture.
by the time it ends, her feet are killing her, but she still stands up straight and walks with confidence and grace, but still makes sure to bow to and thank the photographer and every other staff member she sees.
the way out is much quicker than the way in -- she leaves the makeup on and simply changes back into her hoodie and jeans, pulling a face mask from her pocket to cover her mouth and nose as she leaves the modeling area and heads towards where sooyoung told her the building’s cafeteria is -- she got out just in time to meet her cousin for lunch.
when nayoung is randomly approached on the street near her university, she expects to be handed some pamphlet about student housing or something like that. however, when she looks down at the male’s hands, she blinks in shock as she realizes he isn’t holding fliers or pamphlets, but a video camera, which is currently pointed somewhere around nayoung’s torso. she doesn’t see the red light on the front of it, so it doesn’t seem to be recording yet. she looks back up at the boy’s face -- wow, his smile is really wide and it’s not even 8am yet, how the hell is he so awake?
her thoughts are cut off when he speaks, his voice, if possible, even cheerier than his smile. “hi! i’m park junse. would you mind helping me out with a school project? i’m asking people to freestyle rap for me and i’m compiling the results. it won’t take long, so please?”
the only thing stopping nayoung from brushing past him and making a beeline for the nearest coffee she can find is the sheer rudeness of that action, and the fact that she’s sure plenty of other people do that to him, or will do it to him later today. she doesn’t want to be one of those assholes. so she agrees, shifting her heavy bag on her shoulder as he fiddles with his camera.
“you won’t mind if i film you, right?” he asks, and she shrugs and makes a ‘go ahead’ type motion with her hand. the camera’s red light blinks on as the device is raised and held up to her eye level, and she stares into it, her mind whirring with ideas for lyrics as she licks her lips. she’s starting to regret agreeing to this, and she hasn’t even started yet. she’s never rapped in her life, at least not when she’s not just casually rapping along to one of the idol group songs on her phone. and that’s with somebody else’s lyrics, and someone else rapping along with her. this is all her, without even any music.
“alright,” junse says, pointing at her in what she assumes must be her cue. she clears her throat, words popping into her head right before they leave her lips.
i am im nayoung on the streets,
rapping on command
this kid named junse’s got a camera
and who knows what i’m doing but i’ll just go with the flow
take it from me, take some risks
they’ll either take you down or take you far
as she finishes, she finds herself smiling. the words had just tumbled from her lips, the rhythm shaky but mostly managing to follow a slow beat throughout. she had never thought herself a rapper, but she wonders if maybe she should practice it more.
before junse turns to leave, she reaches out slightly with one hand, and it hovers between them for a moment. “wait,” she says automatically, pointing to the camera in his hand. “would you mind if i watched it?”
