there's a difference between ambition and greed. ambition is for people who use their heads. there's organization and purpose in ambition, twelve step plans and vision boards and manifestations stitched into the fabric of reality—a whole tapestry of calculations and tightened threads. greed is an act of unraveling. less direction. more appetite. greed is for people like taejin, led by their noses and looking for something to sink their teeth into.
he goes all out on this evaluation.
maybe it's because the creative parameters are set so freely, all stages of production being up to the trainees, that taejin finds himself wanting to do everything. show everything. song. dance. rap. performance. from the day they were given this assignment, taejin had sprinted out the gates hungry to prove something and looking nowhere but straight ahead.
when he performs "ghost", there's a feral bite to it that's a different kind from the original. more raw, more rough around the edges. energy that crackles, barely contained in the first half of the song that rips through the surface as soon as the track stutters into the industrial chaos of its last chorus. taejin throws off his black leather jacket to reveal a ripped, sleeveless white tee underneath. he lowers his eyes, wipes his mouth, and mimes a left hook in time with the dings of the bell on the track, transitioning into a choreo that combines krumping with the techniques he learned while training in the ring. there's adrenaline burning through him the way it does when he's sparring, and for those few moments he feels hyper-aware of every muscle in his body. they're responsive in ways they hadn't been during rehearsals, and he tears through the outro hitting every beat dead on its head.
it takes a while for him to come down from that high. he barely catches the tail-end of ahn haru's commentary—something about showcasing his versatility by choosing a darker concept—but manages at the last second to bow jerkily in response. the rush of blood in his head still sounds like a roar.
jang heiran is next, and her focus is on his vocals. she praises his decision to challenge himself this round, saying that while unpolished, he showed a range of styles that proved he had the potential necessary to adapt himself to different genres down the line. she mentions her surprise at his stability, which held on despite the quick pace of the choreo, and she ends with a comment that said she could tell how much he had practiced for this evaluation. she smiles briefly in approval, a small ripple on the calm surface of her face.
choi yohan just looks at him like he discovered something interesting.
"full of surprises as always, yang taejin," he says after a pause. "haru already said what i wanted to say in terms of concept execution and stage presence, but it bears repeating." he glances back at the trainees in the audience, then at the judges sitting next to him. "i don't think a single person in this room was able to take their eyes off you the whole time you were on stage. that's impact."
he levels a stare at taejin.
"i don't know what kind of headspace you were in to perform like that, but i don't want you to forget it. we're in the endgame. this is what i mean when i ask you to give me your 200%, and now that i've seen this side of you, i'll expect nothing less."
i'm alert, it's a curse, yeah, it hurts
i don't know my own strength
― red on my valentino.
evaluation day comes and hwan brings an old piece to the table.
the past days to week has hwan busy with a new experience he has never gone through before. sure, he has performed before in monthly evaluations and what not, but this time it feels different. with the freedom and creativity that they are given, hwan decides to bring out an old song; one that he wrote when he first started liking music, a song he first wrote after getting out of his slump from his child acting experience. a song that gave him a new life and motivations of living, and a composition of who hwan is.
before he presented his idea and song selection out to suho, whom had eagerly meet his excitement as they work alongside helping one another with the stage production of their individual performance, there is a small aching feeling to his heart that never leaves like a ghost residing in an abandoned house. as much as it is his first song, one he wrote many years back and despite the ones whom had known him as klein on soundcloud, had listened to it - he wonders if it would be enough to impress. wonders if he has actually grown with the ability to showcase his true self.
the ideas comes on later, that instead of performing as the song is originally composed, he settles with the idea of reproducing the song with some band music elements from his recent hyperfixation on tweaking with band application and watching movies with band themes. hwan decides that instead of relying on samples he could get online, he gets the help of doyeon and her bandmates to help with his preparation (though not without offering a sort of benefit to doyeon in the form of 'information revolving minseon'. hwan feels threaten that there is someone out there who is after minseon's best friend position but he knows that minseon would never replace him with anyone else).
it's a rebirth hwan thinks, when he takes a day to attend their band recording session that is held a few days before the evaluation day - the drums doyeon plays enhances his music maturely, the strings of the lead and bass guitars plucks out a heavier heartstring, and hwan's vocals and rap verse easily compliments his own song when he runs a practice round. the band won't be there physically on the day hwan gets evaluated but in that moment of their recording, he finds a sort of peace in music that he has never experienced before.
the evaluation day comes, as he gets himself ready for his stage. the coat he wears feels heavy on him; as if overwhelmed. "don't screw this up, hwan. it's your own song and you will own your stage" he mumbles to himself in his native language before he's called for his turn once one of his fellow trainee mates has their stage wrapped up. the raven haired trainee gets worried about the remarks, considering the judgement comes when each performance ends but as he positions the microphone stand in the center, hwan throws all thoughts aside as he takes a deep breath. it's do or die, the worst can come later.
his performance is simple compared to the others, but given how hwan's previous evaluation had him dancing and forming choregraphs and formation lines, such stage he present for his own comes off as a reversal charm. the mr version of his recording plays, starting out with a classic guitar intro as hwan paces around the floor as he gets himself absorbed into the rhythm. he closes his eyes and he places a hand over the microphone when he moves closer, humming along the second line of the guitar. the first verse comes easily, as hwan sinks into emotions by singing his line.
his performance is kept simple and clean with his movements being gestures created from his hand and arm motion. when the second verse comes, he takes the mic off from the stand, now using the stand as a prop. as the music progress, his movement gets bigger with bold gestures and body movements yet kept simple without any actual choreography. the drop of his music comes after the second chorus before he continues as he vocally scats to bridge and ends the song with calm demeanor, keeping an eye contact with choi yohan who's seated in front of him.
hwan bows once he is done and as a staff comes to take the microphone stand away before bringing in the props for the next trainee. he waits as the panel before him discuss among themselves as they write remarks, possibly in regards to their scores. jang hei-ran is the first to speak, "i must say, it feels like we are seeing a new hwan lee, to which, isn't a bad thing. in fact, it surprises me that you are capable of such calm performance in contrast to the hwan we know, who brings talent and passion to the stage. what surprises me mostly, is that you are capable of singing. admittedly, when you started the song, we were all taken aback with the genre since i'm sure that not only myself, but as well as ceo yohan and director haru, had totally expected a more rap styled performance. you have definitely built an image for yourself being a good rapper, but with this, you gave us more reasons to expect more. and definitely, we hope that you will get to shine more with your singing capabilities."
choi yohan adds, "it was definitely surprising to see how talented you could be. i would also like to give props to you for bringing an original composition to the table, and having heard the original version of when we first casted you, i must say i am definitely impressed with the way you had reproduced this song and the image that you have created. i believe we have ourselves someone who may be one of the best singer-songwriter of the generation. and of course, it would be nice if you have the confidence to showcase your singing in the future, hwan-ah."
the last to comment is the creative director, ahn haru himself. "my thoughts of your composition is the same as ceo yohan and consultant hei-ran, which we all know you have the talents for not only the basic skillsets of an idol but also as a composer and songwriter, but for me there was something lacking in terms of your creative performance. while we could see that you can write good songs and was able to deliver an overall good performance by bringing out your raw skills, it lacks creativity when it comes to showcasing yourself. it felt that you had played it safe by only using one prop to which was the microphone stand, but personally, i felt that you could challenge yourself to show an even better stage presence. you could try incorporating more usage of props, or a small bit of choreography especially when you get to the climax of your song. because it's only you in the stage and that there was no live band in particular, it felt rather empty with all consideration that you were doing hyped song as compared to singing a ballad that requires less movements. i hope that you would be able to utilize the space around you to not only fill up the lack of presence, but so you could feel more comfortable. even if you had tried to walk around each sides instead of sticking within the center, it would have brought up more flavor to your performance."
"thank you for all the feedbacks, i will work harder with the stage ideas," hwan takes the advice sincerely despite it being the first that he has heard of rather 'harsh' feedback in a while. at least with this, hwan now knows what he needs to work on even more aside from practicing his singing and composition skills.
overall, hwan is satisfied that he was able to execute his performance without any bad hitch, and that itself, is an achievement of his own.
now that they're officially making debut preparations, it's like the very air has shifted in kiss studios. every room he walks in seems to be in some state of holding its breath, anticipation so palpable it sends a shiver through his skin sometimes. it's the way people's eyes have changed. he'll catch a glimpse of their face on the practice room mirror only to see intensity carved deep in their expressions, several shades darker than the usual focus they bring to lessons. there are other signs too. less goofing around during breaks, slower reactions to jokes, longer stretches of quiet where the music cuts and it's just the sound of their ragged breathing, each person in their own head, working on getting their wind back or mentally running through formations before someone gets up and turns the track back on.
everyone knows what this next evaluation means, the opportunity it holds. everyone is taking it seriously.
taejin too. from the day he walked into studio 4 with five other trainees, he's been clocking in late-night rehearsals daily just to keep up with the speed of their group practices. he's not blind. he knows where he falls skills-wise, and it's nowhere near the others, the trainees who have either been here longer or are just naturally more gifted. it hasn't even been a full year since taejin was making latte art in jeju-do, his biggest concern being whether granny miram down the street would approve of the recent changes to their cafe's menu (she didn't). realistically, he's only been in seoul for nine months. it's not like he's tone deaf or entirely without rhythm, but nine months of training can only do so much for a non-existent foundation. if he's going to pass this evaluation, he knows he can't rely on that.
⊹⊹⊹
it's d-day and taejin knows he should feel nervous, but he's not. he gently thumps a teammate's back as they heave over the toilet, jokingly saying that he hopes the room is arranged so that the judges are sitting far enough back—he may not be vomiting now, but he can't guarantee what will happen to the splash zone once they actually perform. he mimes throwing up, hands splayed from his mouth as he retches. the trainee chokes on a laugh and bats his arm away, calls him a crazy bastard. taejin just grins, utterly at ease.
when the six of them enter the evaluation room, the first thing he notices are the cameras. they're filming the whole process—they were recording during rehearsals too—and from start to finish, the whole process has been a trial run on testing how comfortable taejin can get with cameras. the answer being: a lot. like magnets, he finds his eyes constantly drawn to them, glancing at the circular lens when he should be looking at his form in the mirror instead—tossing it a wink, like it's someone standing on the side of the basketball court. feeling their stare and showing off just a little bit more because of it.
he does the same thing during the performance. switches between smiling at the camera to making eye-contact with the judges, fully immersed in the song's concept of a confident protagonist, loved by all. it's not hard, maybe because of how close it feels to the truth. he lets his body move on muscle memory and for once doesn't rush the entrance to his lines—a half song, half rap in the second verse. the thick synths and funky bass pour from the speakers and fill him up with sound all the way to his soles. has the song always been this good? taejin can't remember hearing the music as well as he does now. he shouts the chant section with the rest of his members, buzzing with energy and adrenaline:
what you gonna do, what what you wanna!
⊹⊹⊹
the feedback comes swiftly, while they're catching their breath and the music is still ringing in his ears. first the overall group impressions, then the individual critiques. when it comes his turn, taejin straightens his back and clasps his hands together at his front.
"i'll be blunt. skill-wise, you're the weakest out of everyone here."
jang hei-ran places her clipboard on her lap, the neat sweep of her hair brushing her shoulders with the movement. taejin's heard of her before, knows a little about how she evaluates as a talent consultant, and as expected, jang hei-ran's strict but fair. he didn't think he made a lot of mistakes during the performance, but as she goes through some of the details and points he'd missed, taejin finds himself nodding along, vaguely remembering his less-than-stable moments. he'll have to watch the recording later, all this in mind.
"what do you imagine the concept of this song to be?" choi yo-han asks, going straight into his segment once jang hei-ran had finished with her comments.
"i think it's a song about being empowered by a persona," taejin replies. he thinks back to the notes on his lyrics sheet, frayed from rough handling and scrawled all over with his terrible handwriting. "the lyrics talk about finding who you are and true desire within a gimmick. i imagined a character who lives a different life online than he does offline, someone who feels the most confident and free when he's creating his own world. like a popular streamer who's a bit of a loser in real life, maybe. the song's not just energetic, it's triumphant. it's youthful. it's earnest and attention-seeking." taejin pauses to grin. "not that different from a rookie idol, i bet."
choi yo-han leans back in his chair, clearly amused. he nods once, as if confirming something, then opens his mouth again. "the ability to express a concept to its fullest potential. the ability to draw the audience's eyes to you, no matter where you stand on stage... skills can be taught, but musicality, star power—those things are much more elusive." choi yo-han smiles wryly. "you're an interesting character, yang taejin. i look forward to seeing where all that potential goes."
“a great fire burns within me, but no one stops to warm themselves at it, and passers-by only see a wisp of smoke”
― vincent van gogh
― there's a fire burning within hwan. the evaluation day comes where he sets it out; let it burn, let it burn. the ashes that gets caught in his lungs makes him choke. he wonders if he would ever feel enough. (wc: 1059)
hwan should be used to evaluations by now with all consideration to his thirty months of training, but his heart thumps aloud when jang heiran enters dance studio number four with her team. he has heard of her before this; about how strict she was with high regards to details and vocal stability. upon her settling down, choi yohan is there to introduce heiran and her team before hwan calls out his team greetings as well with the other trainees; one of the roles he had to fulfill as the team leader.
they quickly get into positions to perform the song that they have trained for weeks now; a song called 'the answer' to which hwan had personally participated actively in during the song writing process and choreography that he worked alongside suho. the introduction starts in a teamwork piece of choreography, one he and suho had worked hard to make it seem like clockwork yet would visualized as 'entering a dimension' as such their song has reality versus virtual themes to it. suho starts the first verse with ease to which hwan smiles as he moves along with the dance, a feeling of relief wash over him but nothing to be too comfortable yet when he has to get to his part.
the pre-chorus and chorus breezes easily as they all coordinate their movements. by now, it would be hard to forget when they all worked hard practicing it hours after hours and as every day pass leading up to this day. in comes the second part to which hwan had took part with rap writing for the first time.
switch off, wanna get you out of my head, uh
[all part] what you gonna do? what, what you wanna?
feeling this kind of likeness towards you
feels like a gimmick
the truth i desire comes from within
will you slip into my reality and match with me
my love for you is wider than the pacific ocean
the confidence he gains to showcase his part in particular heightens when it comes to his verse. hwan executes his rap flow well, never stuttering or fumbling his lines despite his part being in the mixed of both korean and english. after all, hwan made sure to practice his verse at least five times a day; to memorize it by heart and mind, that it is inked on him forever, and he would never forget them like even after the evaluation is over.
his part passes easily and any breath he held during yejun's main vocalist parts were only sighs of relief when the younger male sings his part without faltering or having his voice cracked. with that, they wrapped up the song with high tension considering the concept they are heading for was defining 'their youth'. as the song comes to an end with their coordinated group dance and ending pose for each member, they take a few second to collect their breaths before gathering in line to say their thanks with hwan leading to it.
the performance ends and they're given some time to collect themselves as choi yohan, jung heiran and her team gathers to exchange reviews and feedbacks with each other before they're told to gather for their on-spot evaluation. each of his fellow teammates have their review done first and when it's finally down to hwan's turn, he steps upfront when being called; palms pressed together as he waits with anticipation yet nervousness for his evaluation result.
"first of all, i would like to recognize once again that you were able to fulfill your leadership skills and i could see that this time, your communication with the members work out smoothly." choi yohan remarks, to which hwan offers a smile and a quick word of gratitude. the ceo adds on, "i could even see the smile you had when suho was able to breeze his part through. and in that moment, i think that not only was it charming, but you were able to shine through as a leader!"
once again, hwan offers his gratitude to the ceo for his recognition and takes the time as well to thank his teammates for making it easy for him by listening well and providing feedback that helped with the evaluation in terms of choreography and song writing. his attention is then turn towards to jung heiran whom now inputs her remarks.
"i must say, the song we've given you this time, is different from what we originally planned for. i believe you were able to encapsulate the song itself with your song writing, and your rap verse in particular was refreshing to hear. it was something that we would not imagine hearing when we first had this song produced. and for that, i'd like to give you kudos!" heiran compliments him, offering a smile. in that moment, everything hwan knows by secondhand knowledge of the woman being strict seems to fly out of an imaginary window.
"however," heiran adds, returning to her stern nature, "it would have been nice if you had more singing parts, it seems the past evaluation from what we reviewed and the current evaluation had you rapping only. it would be nice if you would venture out of your comfort zone, and in that way you can grow to be an all-rounder." she comments, offering a piece of advice to hwan. the raven-haired trainee nods on the advice offer.
"lastly, i'll like to give you props as well for being able to tackle on the responsibilities we have given you. not only were you the leader, but you had to write for the song lyric as well and do the choreography. to be honest, i've personally kept my expectations low, and i understand that you've gotten help from suho as well in terms of the choreography as well, but we did give you the workload to test you all. thankfully, you were able to maintain the expectations, if not, to raise the bar higher of what we thought of you. you've worked hard, trainee hwan lee." heiran offers her last piece of compliment as hwan bows respectfully and thank not only jung heiran and the choi yohan for their time and advice, but as well as for heiran's team and towards his teammates once again.
the evaluation ends well on a high note, and perhaps now hwan feels that he no longer looked like a wisp of smoke that burns aimlessly to passerby's that stop by and be unbothered off. he thinks, if generously, he would continue to burn with hopes that one day, his fire would share warmth with his teammates, friends, family and fans. for now he thinks, he's enough.
❥ date: late february 2023
❥ featuring: kim jihye
❥ word count: 554*
HONG AERIN was not a leader. She knew that, had always known that, so of course she'd assume that the staff at Kiss knew that.
The way her face paled and her trained polite smile fell the second she was announced the leader and choreographer, she was absolutely sure they knew now. But she didn't have time to worry, no time to doubt herself. She had a week to put something together and teach it, and positions to assign...
The choreography was easy enough -- as easy as anything like this could be, she supposed. Locking herself in one of the training rooms, letting the instrumental given to them play on repeat. Feeling the music vibrate through every inch of her body from head to toe, and moving where it took her until she couldn't move anymore.
Her notebook, covered in various stickers and doodles, had pages upon pages filled with notes on what move goes where and how it should go. Without the lyrics given to her, she had to focus on the way the music made her feel which was her area of expertise. Dancing calmed her, and with the calm in her mind, she thought hard about the positions she had to assign.
HONG AERIN | She thought about herself first. Maybe it wasn't proper leader etiquette to consider herself first, but who did she know better than herself? The natural decision is to give herself MAIN DANCE. She's the choreographer, she'd know it best. She can sing, sure, but she couldn't be 1000% sure she'd be able to remain stable enough vocally to justify a vocal position, especially a main. With a firm nod, she made a note in the corner of her notebook page. The easy parts were done. Now comes the tough stuff.
KIM JIHYE | Jihye was probably the trainee Aerin was most familiar with. She knew her skillset, and she knew her flaws. Tapping her pen against her chin, seated cross legged on the practice room floor, Aerin examined the choreo she'd finalized already. Jihye wasn't a confident dancer. She arguably had the skill, but she focused on her vocal ability instead. That wasn't a bad thing by a long shot, but the various floor moves and quick position changes that Aerin had put in place would definitely leave anyone out of breath. If they needed a main vocal, they needed to remain as stable as possible.
Aerin sighed and tightened her long brain ponytail that had loosened with her long dance session. Her lingering anxieties were itching at her brain, but who else would she pick? With a final grunt, she scribbled next to her name and position. KIM JIHYE, MAIN VOCAL + VISUAL. Jihye specifically requested the visual position, and it was the least of Aerin's worries who got it. The quicker it was given away, the easier she had it.
As far as what the other's would receive position wise, she hadn't heard from them about what they'd even want. Could she hold auditions for the final positions? It would make sense for dancers at least, if she passed on the choreography notes she had. So much to do, so little time and direction. For now, she presumed she should pass along the information to Jihye and go back to what she did best -- dance.
Jihye was nervous. Normally, she knew how her evaluations would go. “Excellent vocals and visuals, but your dancing needs improvement.” It was like clockwork. She was always working on improving her dancing, but it was never her favorite part of training; she just never wanted someone to compare her moves to her sisters in any way. But now, with debut just over the horizon, she wanted them to say something different. She wanted them to say she was perfect, that she had finally achieved the expectations they had set for her and she for herself. She knew there was no way in hell that was going to happen, but she was doing her best to manifest it as she stood, heavily breathing after the performance.
“Your vocals were good and stable, as we expected from you,” they began. She gave a polite smile, glad that she was at least getting that consistent feedback.
“Thank you,” she said with a slight bow, but she was mentally preparing for the criticism she knew was coming.
“Your visuals are usually great, but your dancing left a lot to be desired.” Jihye had to physically resist rolling her eyes. Of course her dancing left a lot to be desired; she wasn’t a dancer. But she had been trying for years. It was just a fact, her dancing was never going to be as strong as her vocals were, wasn’t that enough for them? For her to sing her ass off with every performance?
“And when it wasn’t your turn to sing, you faded into the background.”
Her eyes widened for a moment at that, surprise too strong for her to hide it completely, though she still didn’t have a huge outward reaction. Inwardly, she was freaking out.
Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do? Give others a chance to shine and not steal the spotlight?
She was doing her best to be a team player, and now she was being told that wasn’t her best course of action? It was a good thing Jihye had an excellent poker face because she was fuming. What was she supposed to do, then?
“I’ll do my best to stand out next time,” she assured them, determination clear in her eyes. “You won’t be able to take your eyes off of me.” An arrogant thing to say? Potentially, but what else was she supposed to say? She wanted to prove she was ready for debut, so she told them what she thought they wanted to hear.
“But we did want to commend you on the lyrics. They fit the concept and tone of the song perfectly, and we’ll be looking to you for more in the future.”
Alright, that did calm her down significantly. At least she was getting recognized for a skill that she did feel she was strong in but never got the chance to show it off. She bowed in thanks again before they moved on to the next candidate. Jihye had a lot to process, but she knew one thing for certain.
She would get better at dancing if it was the last thing she did.
Jihye was a girl who knew what she wanted. She had been ambitious and goal oriented for years, and now, with debut in sight, there wasn’t anything standing in her way.
Except for maybe Aerin.
Aerin was a bit of an enigma to Jihye. Not that she herself was a difficult person to understand, but Jihye just couldn’t figure out how she felt about the other. There was a bit of admiration but also trepidation, an uncertainty in the other’s abilities. But, now that Aerin was designated leader for the time being and was calling the shots for positions, Jihye had a bit of self humbling to do.
Play nice. Those words had been on repeat in her head since she knew debut preparations were starting for her. The last thing she needed to do right now was make enemies. well, make more enemies than she had already. She took a deep breath, swallowed her pride, and approached her “leader”.
“Hello,” she said, a bit of formality in her tone that wasn’t there the last time they spoke. “I know this is your choice what positions we all receive, but I’d like to advocate for myself to be the main vocalist and visual.” She held herself with her shoulders back, confident, but kept her chin level, not arrogantly. “My vocals and visuals are where my strengths lie, like you with your dancing and performing.” Jihye hoped a compliment would help her cause, especially with how rare Kim Jihye compliments were.
truth be told, hwan is slightly struggling with the song writing for the demo that he's been assigned to. it comes off challenging of course, this had been the first for him to write lyrics for a song to which he had no part in the production of. in a positive light, he's honored that the company trust him enough for such responsibility and for this to be his first ever challenge as a songwriter. perhaps they are testing him in a way; if hwan would ever be fitting to be an in-house producer and singer-songwriter down the line after debuting and when he's well equipped with more experiences and opportunities. he could only dream of it.
he's spend the first night scribbling on his notebook on possible themes out. with the brief description he's given of the song, he comes up with a working title and the theme of romance and living in both reality and virtual. perhaps it's simple minded of him, but they were told that the concept falls more under youth-uniformed themed inspired and what better yet than to have young boys sing of love and liking someone. there are other working themes on being the 'mz' generation that helped provide a sort of flow for ideas but he definitely need more input that what he already have.
hwan's attention gets diverted when he sees someone peeking in and realizes it's yejun, a fellow kiss studios' trainee and someone he's comfortable working with due to the assistance that the younger trainee has given to hwan when he had helped with recording his demo.
"oh hey yejun. got a minute or two? maybe half an hour of your time?" the older trainee asks, gesturing the younger trainee to come in. he points at his old worn out macbook, a hand-me-down from his mother, where it shows the demo track on screen of the music program he had opened since last night. "i could perhaps, use your input for our song," he remarks, emphasizing 'our' because this song is as important to yejun as it is to hwan ― after all they could possibly debut with this song and any song that hwan takes part in, is his 'baby' so by any means, it will not be something he does or writes in a half-arse attitude.
