` * 𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 , ♚ ♔ ♚ ━━ 。 。 ( tell me, myname ) 。 。
jei is not a person without regrets. there are a lot of things in her life that she holds some resentment over, a lot of things in her life that she wishes she could go back and redo if given the chance. hindsight is always 20/20 after all - and though jei is often seen as a person that does what she wants and what’s expected of her in the moment, sometimes it can lead to tragic or disastrous results. or it could even just lead to something that she’s never intended to do once, much less again.
and that’s how she ends up here. sometimes, she hates herself for putting so much pride in her own words and for being the person that will always do the things that she says. jei is well known for being that kind of person, and she always has been - even if it so happens that she loathes whatever it is, or even if it ends up leading to her own detriment. and even if she was drunk when she gave her word, the fact of the matter is, she stands by it anyway. no one trusts a liar.
this time, perhaps just this once, jei wishes she was a liar.
the week leading up to the performance has been rough. jei spends most of them under her blanket with her brother’s phone glued to her hand, shopping as if retail therapy is going to help cure the emptiness that loss will leave behind. she had spent the week before the casting preparing, going over choreography that she’d already once learned and recording her voice to lay over the live performance bits in all the right places. since then though, jei lost her interest - not that there was much there to begin with. the only thing that she cares about now is shopping and sleeping.
but she still pulls herself out of bed on the 21st, as much as she may not want to. it’s hard not to recall the choreography and the words of a song that has haunted her since the summer of 2018, even if jei doesn’t want to admit it. even though she would have liked to practice more, sometimes it’s better to just allow your body the grief that it needs. breaking up with hyun was probably the worst thing she could have done before this performance, but it was for the better. for him. for her. for them both.
that’s what she has to tell herself.
by the time that jei arrives, she wants to perform even less than she did when she realized that she ultimately fucked up. the track of her song is still sitting in her bag, safely - she just takes one look at the line and feels nothing. there’s no desire, there’s no interest. at first, she doesn’t even bother lining up because standing there for hours to perform a song for two minutes is the last thing on her list of things she wants to do in her life.
so she spends her time watching performances instead of waiting herself. it was a good thing that she and jinyoung didn’t arrive together originally because if they did, he likely would have pushed her into line with him. an annoyed sigh escapes her lips and she pushes back her hair, eyes scanning the stage and finally seeing him perform some rendition of a song from some group that she didn’t listen to.
and still, she feels nothing. no desire. no interest. deep down, jei wonders if she’s depressed. ( deeper down, she knows that she is and just won’t admit it. )
it doesn’t take her long to meet up with jinyoung, just to congratulate him on his performance. maybe he won’t comment on the fact that she hasn’t performed. maybe she can get out of this and just go home. ( jei should have known she’d never have such luck. ) it’s probably a joke, but he very pointedly says that he hasn’t seen her perform yet and jei knows she’s stuck in this. in reality, he probably wouldn’t care that much if she just went home. but mention the betrayal of her words even passively and jei becomes a stubborn bitch. “ ugh, fucking fine. i’m going.” jei can only imagine the look on jinyoung’s face - more than likely, it’s probably smug - but before she can see it and get more annoyed, she turns away. her eyes roll now that he can’t see her and finally, she goes to sign up, ending up in her place in line for the time that it’ll take for her to perform.
jei finds that she wishes she’d at least feel something. even if it’s hate, it’s better than nothing at all.
when her name is called without much pomp and circumstance, jei still doesn’t really feel anything. there’s no fear, but there’s also nothing else, either - aside from the confidence that she exudes walking towards the stage, her expression is unreadable. but that is just like jei; when she gets to the stage, it’ll be different. even if she says that she can’t feel anything at all, she’ll still be able to express it through her dance at the very least.
because that’s what jei’s good at. it’s the only slip that she’ll allow herself when it comes to her tower walls.
her turn on the stage and looking out to the many faces staring up at her doesn’t really faze her. it never did before either, even though she’s sure that others felt the pinpricks of stage fright while standing in the spot she is. she heard it in some of their voices, even - but when jei speaks, it’s as clear as a bell. “ hello .. my name is jei kim.” bet you thought you’d seen the last of me. “ and i remember a song called tell me.” her lips quirk up just a little, though whether it’s a smirk of confidence or a sneer of utter hatred, no one can be sure. most will probably assume the former. after all, no one could hate tiger jk that much if they’re here ... right? ( they’d be wrong on that, but jei isn’t about to correct anyone over something so trivial - or something that no one else will understand. ) “ so that’s what i’ll be performing today.”
familiarity fills her senses as she takes her place and her position on the stage. this is something that she’s done once before in much warmer weather, some months ago. she carried the same feeling with her then that she does with her now - that this is hardly the thing that she wants to be doing at the moment. but jei is someone who tries to live her life without regrets, so the lack of desire won’t show in her movement.
even if she doesn’t care about trc, even if she’d rather burn every entertaiment building to the ground than to step foot into one of them again, the last thing she plans on doing is fucking up this stage performance on purpose. because even if she doesn’t care about this audition, she cares about dancing. she’d never mock it.
this is a performance that has haunted her since the mgas, though. she remembers every word of the song, every distinct movement, and more so, everything that myname is known for as the music starts to play. jei won’t stumble because she can’t, not when that day is a moment in her life that has replayed in her mind since last summer. tell me is really a song that haunts her, and maybe with this, she’ll finally be able to lay it to rest. maybe she’ll be able to let it go.
maybe this time, she’ll be able to reflect what the song means. that was one of the problems that they had with her, right? her expression?
now that she’s lost hyun by her own choice, maybe she’ll be able to express this song “ correctly”.
anywhere anytime
어딜 가든 어디 있든 네가 그리워 못 참겠어 제발 다시 내게 내게 돌아와 줘 제발 다시 내게 내게 돌아와 줘 어딜 가든 어디 있든 네가 그리워 못 참겠어 제발 다시 내게 내게 돌아와 줘 제발 다시 내게 내게 돌아와 줘
she remembers this song so well. even the parts that weren’t hers in the mgas are ingrained in her memory, easy to follow along with the cues and to perform. some might say she’s lazy for performing a song that she’s already performed once for an entire nation, but that’s hardly the case. while it’s true that jei doesn’t really want to be here right now, would much rather be at home in bed or anything else than trying to dance for a company like a trained monkey, she’s performing this song for herself. to prove that she’s much more than just the weakest link.
jei has already been the weakest link once in her life. that’s not something that she wants to go back to.
도망쳐버렸어 익숙해져 점점 착각처럼 끝이 온 줄 알았어 다 망쳐버렸어 eh 또 난 뻔한 드라마 속 eh 서 있는 거 같아 텅 비어 허전해 그저 후회뿐
singing is something that comes to jei easily. dancing is something that comes to her even easier. rap though is not one of her talents and jei hardly wants to even try mastering it. however, with this song, it’s different. although rap is hardly something that she’s used to doing - it’s hard not to be able to follow along with the words and the flow when this song is something that she’s been replaying over and over in her head for months now. and maybe jei has an easier time with the rap because of it, like those people who can do rap covers easily just because they listen to a song thousands of times. it’s not like this rap is difficult either; it’s just spoken with feeling.
and there comes the problem with expression. but what the judges don’t know is that jei has recently lost someone that’s touched her heart further than anyone who came before him, broke down walls that she built or climbed them just to peek at her through the window with a smile. it’s hard not to be able to express the feeling in this song when it hits so close to home.
between the rap, the singing, and the dancing, of course she’s going to be a better dancer. but jei doesn’t think she’s doing poorly in any aspect at all.
i luv you in my mind 달콤한 너의 말 그때처럼 너에게 듣고 싶어 oh
i know you in my heart 날 위로했던 말 돌려볼게 안아볼게 다시 뜨거웠던 때로
어딜 가든 어디 있든 네가 그리워 못 참겠어 제발 다시 내게 내게 돌아와 줘 제발 다시 내게 내게 돌아와 줘 어딜 가든 어디 있든 네가 그리워 못 참겠어 제발 다시 내게 내게 돌아와 줘 제발 다시 내게 내게 돌아와 줘
if she’s honest, jei never really thought her singing was truly the problem when it came to her performances. perhaps when placed in a group of main singers, consistently, her voice paled in comparison but now that she’s alone, maybe it’s easier to show off her vocal colour more. it’s the only explanation that she has; it’s not like they told her she downright sucked at it but instead, needed to shine more.
now that she’s here, alone and on a stage, it’s easier to vocalize. some parts of her voice are pre recorded due to the way that the vocals overlay other parts in the song that she would have rather sung live, and she’s sure that it’s a shock to hear her voice coming from both the speakers and the microphone that she’s singing into.
jei prepares more than she seems; she knows what she can and can’t do. it could be why her groups called her a good leader, even if she often blamed herself when choices she made led to people going home.
tell me luv luv luv lu lu lu lu luv luv lu lu lu lu tell me luv luv lu lu lu lu tell me tell me tell me tell me luv luv lu lu lu lu luv luv lu lu lu lu luv luv lu lu lu lu 내게 내게 돌아와 줘 babe
the chorus itself is a break, much of it pre -recorded and autotuned to sound a little similar to the original. this makes it easier to show off her dance, with every movement defined and sharp as its supposed to be - it’s what myname is known for, after all.
let’s go i miss you all day 너를 그려 매일 마치 화가
and as much as she doesn’t want to admit it, tell me does follow the basis for her skills fairly well. the rap isn’t too difficult, the dance is much more so and the singing is right on key with her voice. jei finds that the rap comes easier if she speaks it with feeling, her brows furrowed together and a darker look in her eye as she looks out into the audience and moves along with the beat.
기억을 replay don’t pass me by 널 내 품에 줘 uh 널 찾아 헤매 go walk walk hard
on the coming of the final note, she holds it for just a few seconds knowing that it’s not the true ending of the actual song and that the cut would be strange if she didn’t do so. and that’s it - it’s the big finale, the end of the song, and hopefully she’s put her demons to rest. jei really hopes so, because she’s tired of feeling bitter about a situation that she never wanted to be in in the first place.
still though, even with the buzzing of the crowd, jei feels nothing. but she smiles when she thanks them anyway.











