L O V E T A L K 🌸 #rkspring
YEOUIDO FLOWER FESTIVAL
♡ with @seolhyunrk
practicing this song with seol on the weekends had become a secretive kind of joy for cho who, often these days, had looked actively for reasons to distract herself from the norm. seol was someone she could look forward to seeing at seocho every week, whose sunny smile and sweet singing tones could uplift a dejected girl’s spirit even when unintentional. cho needed it, needed a friend – that precious kind of soul that’s comforting just by its sheer existence in the world; just by being there in the rehearsal room, laughing and conversing with her easily, seolhyun could clear away the cobwebs that clung so stubbornly to cho’s chaotic thoughts. being around seol, especially now that the rapper needed a clarity of mind better than ever, was more important than the girl would ever dare to confess to her companion.
the royal show – cho hadn’t yet told seol about her plans to join simply because she didn’t know how to. it wasn’t as if the right opportunities hadn’t come up to speak, as anyone could spill their thoughts in between these breaks to rest their voices, but somehow chorong continued to struggle with the right words to explain just how complicated her decision had been. she wasn’t afraid of seolhyun judging her but the ‘what if’ lid was too terrifying for her to open – being questioned why felt like admitting to a betrayal, and then what if she lost? to get her hopes up about debuting with seolhyun would mean almost certain disappointment if the competition didn’t favor her. wasn’t it easier then, to pretend her choice for entering the competition was a shallow one? ‘i just want the recognition’ she’d already told the others but it hadn’t been the whole truth, not even close to it.
“yeouido…?” chorong blinks in surprise to hear seolhyun speak of the flower festival, as she had all but forgotten its existence since visiting it as a high school girl. “well, we’ve been working on this song,” seol explains in that reasonable way of hers and it clicks instantly in chorong’s thoughts what she means – what better opportunity to show off their musical progress than to showcase what they’ve been perfecting for months? cho held little love for impromptu performances that left her feeling unprepared and nervous but this would be different – she and seol had painstakingly torn apart the arrangement in their rehearsals in order to make it suit them and, honestly, cho’s confidence about it was the best she’d felt in a very long time.
“alright. i’d love to!” a soft smile accompanies the agreement and cho feels it – the excitement of getting to be on stage again in front of a live audience. and with seol, of all people, ah—she’d be envious of any MGA fans who would be blessed with such an unexpected, reunited duo! luckily, she’d be the one getting to live it.
“are you ready?”
the day comes quicker than cho imagines but if there’s one question she’s absolutely sure of enough to answer, it’s this one. “yes,” she replies swiftly to the staffer who’d asked and then the rapper winds her way through an energetic crowd backstage to find her partner. “seol—!” the pretty girl is waiting for her and chorong naturally falls into the pre-performance routine she’s gotten used to since the MGAs: checking on hair, makeup, and warming up vocals in preparation for the live. her hands find their way into seolhyun’s and cho squeezes just once for reassurance—and cheer to boost up her energy. “what team?” she whispers playfully.
their team.
an outdoor venue is a new one and refreshing, cho reflects silently, when she can feel the evening’s breeze caressing the strands of her long dark hair. it lifts the tresses off her shoulders and cho sends up a grateful thought to the heavens for having thought to wear shorts out here instead of a skirt like she’d first imagined – that’s not the kind of attention she’d want for a cute performance like this. and cute it will be, for how could seol be anything but that when they take to the stage with their microphones in hand? she nods to the staff in charge of starting the music and chorong flashes seol an encouraging smile. without the pressure of evaluations hanging over her head, without company weight and survival shows and constantly being judged—for the first time, chorong could actually have fun on the stage again. her heart lifts the moment the intro begins.
seolhyun’s voice caresses the crowd like expensive silk – warm and luxurious – and chorong is glad to see the way the audience’s faces react to it; much in the same way she does, she thinks with a silent laugh, like they want to be wrapped up inside it and kept safe. seolhyun’s lyrics ask her the prying questions—what’s he like? good manners? – and it takes all in cho not to burst out laughing at the thought of such a thing.
( romance… she’d given up on it now. )
but it’s easy enough to play around with seolhyun as if it were real. the way seol’s luminous eyes light up with such cheerful curiosity – a natural actress if cho had ever seen one – leaves the rapper filled up with energy to return the sunny atmosphere in kind. it’s rare for cho to get to smile this much, this often, but her heart feels lightweight up on this stage, as if she could really leave all those unpleasant thoughts behind her.
얜 느낌이 달라 처음부터 뭔가
feel 이 딱 꽂히게 만들어 버려 날
들었다 놨다 나는 지금 얘 손바닥 안
yeah 영 알 수 가 없어 걘 바닷속 같지
빠지는게 두려워 튜브를 줘 빨리
her rap verses and seolhyun’s singing entwine like two best friends who can’t separate, at times hopeful and prodding and other times sighing with the knowledge of a frustrating love. how little cho had ever confided in seolhyun about her own love life, but how real it felt in this performance to have someone who would likely listen. although the words slipped easily from the rapper’s tongue from the familiarity of constant rehearsal, the emotion conveyed behind the lyrics felt like something more.
a question, really, bubbling up in the center of chorong’s chest as she beamed at seolhyun with a sincere, affectionate expression: could she tell her… everything?
april evaluation
떠나지마 d o n ‘ t l e a v e
a r r a n g e m e n t
cho’s sigh of relief is practically silent as it’s expelled from her lips. the evaluation for this month takes a much-desired return to simplicity and the rapper couldn’t feel more overjoyed than this. had baek jiyoung heard her quiet cry for surcease in that big office of hers? unlikely, but cho would imagine it anyway and take the reprieve for what it truly is: a blessing.
it’s harder to find a song to perform than she expects; cho spends two weeks listening to recommended playlists non-stop, and it’s not until ‘ballad’ is the sole requirement that the trainee realizes she isn’t as confident about what that means when it comes to choosing the piece. a slow song? acoustic? a song about love? – all predictable answers to ‘what is a ballad’ and, yet, it’s difficult to find the criteria in a song that she actually wants to play for the coaches. in the end, it comes down to practicality: any love song sounds like a ballad when it’s played acoustically. if she takes an old song and makes it creatively her own with a slower arrangement… that should, hopefully, be enough.
“park chorong, first year rap trainee,” she introduces when the time comes. it’s a simple performance room that’s assigned to them and cho assesses the audience – familiar faces of coaches who give her a variation of stoic expressions and encouraging smiles – with her sharp gaze before striding over towards the offered piano. she’s dressed comfortably for this, wearing a form-fitting, long-sleeved black tee and dark-washed jeans, and sits down on the narrow piano bench with confidence. little by little, the original stage fright chorong remembers feeling so clearly from the mgas has faded into non-existence.
( as they say, experience is the best teacher and she feels calm. poised. )
the rapper takes a deep breath as her fingers move with ease into the introduction, dancing over the ivory keys that’s gentle melody replaces the original song’s powerful orchestra. it’s a different flavor, a brand-new, softer feeling, but the core of the song doesn’t lose its heart—its devastation that permeates through the meaningful lyrics. it’s been awhile since chorong’s been allowed to sing freely on her own, without being the backup for another trainee’s main part or helping them to rearrange their own performances, and she shamelessly enjoys this freeing feeling of letting her voice sing solo.
잊기엔 너무 사랑했나봐
아직도 널 기다리는 나야
우리의 시간은 멈췄나봐
니가 곁에 있는 것 같아
떠나지마 떠나가지마 나를
가슴에 상처만 주고
떠나지마 이런 날 울리지는 마
나에게 돌아와줘
she transitions easily into the rap verse—her improving skill translating into a performance that’s crisp and enunciated with care. chorong isn’t ignorant to the commonality that exists between the lyrics and her own life but she simply doesn’t care about it anymore; lamenting about a lost, almost love seems too toxic in the long run to her, and wasteful, honestly, when she has those around her trying hard continuously to raise her spirits. to demean jonghyun’s efforts in doing so by dwelling in the past seems almost too selfish for a self-absorbed chorong to contemplate.
여지껏 살아왔던 일생에 단 한번
미치도록 아껴줬던 사람은 너란걸
이별이란 파편에 죽은 내 사랑이
가여워 괴로워 이밤은 또 외로워...
her voice lifts again, having shortened the song considerably to take into account the trainee’s self-acknowledged lack of stamina. she’s not used to singing songs entirely on her own and chorong knows her limitations from the start when she’d rearranged this piece. being more accustomed to rap verses, she sings the heartfelt chorus one more time before launching into the second round of passionate plea:
너의 옷자락에 넣어둔 내 마음은
찢거나 버리거나 숨기거나 태운대로
향수처럼 남어 그림처럼
보여 낙인처럼 새겨져
버렸음을 기억해 don’t wanna cry…
fingers begin to ache from the constant strain but chorong has practiced this song for a week in order to memorize it without a music sheet. her hands move instinctively as she continues and cho bears through the dull soreness as she reaches the final climax of the song. for times like this, when the girl must pretend she feels the same level of pain the composer felt when writing the original, cho feels glad that she doesn’t have to look directly into the coaches’ eyes. how embarrassed she’d be to have to keep a straight face when singing about ‘not leaving’ and ‘not to make her cry’-- chorong wouldn’t cry in the first place… not when physical revenge seems like a much better, and more enjoyable alternative. if the coaches could see her gaze, they’d realize right away the insincerity of her emotions even when the technicality and pitch is correct.
( soulless, they might call her. they might not be wrong. )
chorong remembers the shocking feeling of an icy porcelain bathtub beneath her bottom the last time she’d done anything cosmetic to herself; seulgi’s hands had applied the blonde dye then to her virginal tresses and, for the first time, chorong had tried something so divergent from her usual self that it had terrified her. but when she’d looked in the mirror after it had dried, and touched the golden strands with her fingertips to twine them into loose curls, chorong had realized taking a risk wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d feared it to be. actually, the result had turned out to be very enjoyable, and flattering, if she did say so herself!
five months later, being told to return to a dark brunette for the commercial proved to be both disappointing and a relief. disappointing only because chorong had gotten used to the increase of attention and confidence gained from a light head of hair, and yet relieved because the maintenance of supporting had eventually become too burdensome to keep up with -- with healthy hair, the brown roots usually grew back out quicker than she’d ever liked. so what if she’d faded back into the background with the normal dark hair of every other korean girl she passed by on the streets? it was her talent that needed her upkeep, not her looks.
she makes an appointment with the company’s stylist a week after the announcement, and shows up promptly on time for the woman to take her in. mindless conversation isn’t chorong’s forte and soon enough, the cheerful woman quits attempting to talk to the girl at all when only selective, polite replies and quiet words are the only ones received in return. while the stylist paints the rapper’s hair back to the deep chocolate shade she was born with, chorong closes her eyes against that cold, uncomfortable wet feeling of dye on her head and thinks about her future, thinks about the commercial and the possibilities it offers. and also thinks of seulgi and jonghyun, her best friends who will also have to face their fate before the big filming day arrives.
to take one of shakespeare’s great sonnets and turn it into a rap had to be either the most creative and boldest idea chorong ever had, or an incredibly laughable and foolish one. she’d needed help to translate the original english poetry into korean and then chorong had torn the sonnet apart to rearrange shakespeare’s iambic pentameter into a more modern rhythm.
( to his undeniable credit, shakespeare definitely had flow. )
but was it stupid? no, chorong needed to have more confidence in herself than that. jonghyun believed in their act, and in her ability to compose, and chorong rewards that blind faith with her courage to play the part. he needed her as much as she needed him and she would never forgive herself for disappointing jonghyun in a performance he cared so deeply about.
to this end, chorong is pleased to see that the stage designers had outdone themselves. the painted backdrop looked straight out of a medieval setting, with ivy twining around a two-dimensional garden and a prop trellis towering at least a foot over her head. simple and elegant: it’s a perfect depiction of a beautiful nature they wanted to protect.
( also, it matched her amazing dress. )
chorong is careful not to overly disturb the leaves as she wraps her arm around the edge of the trellis. the costume tailors had surprised her with the recycled garment several days ago and the rapper had been mesmerized by the intricate detail woven throughout. ( “it’s probably because you’re so tiny,” jonghyun had pointed out with a grin, “more space to do fancy work with.” but even the singer had been impressed as he examined the piece. “it’s like midsummer night’s dream!” ) with the lights still down, chorong settles into position and brings the microphone up to her lips. she’ll start the rap when it’s still dark and, as she gets further in the sonnet, the hot stage lights gradually go up to wash her in a golden glow.
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
But sad mortality o'ersways their power,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
O! how shall summer's honey breath hold out,
Against the wrackful siege of battering days,
When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
Nor gates of steel so strong but Time decays?
O fearful meditation! where, alack,
Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid?
Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?
Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
O! none, unless this miracle have might,
That in black ink my love may still shine bright.
in essence, it’s about mortality-- the death of self, the death of the world, and of the nature the theme of the concert wraps around. chorong rises from the trellis and walks around, her voice growing in intensity as she spits out the climax of the rap. O fearful meditation! chorong’s eyes close and then fling open again as she addresses the audience in a dark cry. as small and tiny as the girl might look, there’s nothing minuscule about the danger of a decaying world she speaks about. shakespeare had been ahead of his time and his message just as relevant to the modern audience.
the ending of the rap takes her to the edge of the stage and chorong disappears the same moment jonghyun takes her place. he’s sophisticated in his old garb and the girl doesn’t go far-- watching with silent pride just behind the side curtain. she’ll rejoin him again as ophelia later on but, for now, she feels gladdened that their individual triumphs are shining brighter than all the lights. he deserves it.
◦ sphere ‘save the earth’ concert ◦
“peace” by lee junghyun
with mijoo and seulgi
backstage never fails to spark her adrenaline. only with time does stage fright loosen its grip and chorong finds that now she can breathe much easier than she’d been able to half a year ago. she picks at the lint clinging to the sleeve of her suit until the assistant stage manager calls out her name for a two-minute warning. seulgi, mijoo-- her eyes flick around to spot her group mates and there they are: the three of them ready to heed the asm’s signal.
what must those two be feeling? she doesn’t have time to ask and maybe it’s for the best that she doesn’t.
when the lights go up, chorong’s performance demeanor slides automatically into place. she isn’t the first to go onstage and patiently waits just beyond the curtain as seulgi and mijoo take front and center stage position to perform their dance solo. even though their sunbae’s song is rich with korean culture context, there’s no denying the michael jackson influence that permeates the intro and inspires a duet where the two dancers can gracefully play homage. as they do so, chorong quietly adjusts the armband around her upper arm, making sure the green recycle symbol is visibly obvious as she follows her cue on.
chorong brings the microphone to her lips and begins to sing even before she gets one foot on the stage. the song mijoo had chosen for the group is meant to promote the country’s well-being and, after chorong tweaked several of the lyrics to fit the theme of the concert, had been reborn as doing so for both country and the earth upon which south korea rested on. power for peace. power for the earth.
"not letting anyone know, make them powerless"
closing off both eyes and both ears,
you're all surrounded by pollution and negligence !
just like the way they’d practiced, chorong steps back to let seulgi take over and falls into the simple dance rhythm she’d decided on. forever resigned to her status as the ‘hopeless dancer,’ mijoo and seulgi had taken pity on chorong for the choreography, not caring if chorong wanted to do her own randomized movements to blatantly cover up the fact that synchronization between the trio was frankly impossible. in a way, it would make the performance seem more organic-- or that is how chorong justifies it to herself, at least.
mijoo’s voice soars after seulgi’s but seulgi parries back when she brings bow to violin. intensely passionate when she plays, chorong almost forgets to reposition herself behind seulgi as she watches the latter power through her solo as if it’s no effort whatsoever. but, then it’s chorong’s turn and she isn’t going to be forgotten. all three of them made it to the mga finals for a reason and all three of them are there to entertain. chorong pushes her way to the center stage and delivers her rap verse with a forceful speed. the audience is her intended target of message and she calls out to them directly.
one! two! yes i see you !
three! four! don't you close your door!
everyone hold hands together and let's go now
to the land of light-- to peace, so so
that will come to us from now on
everybody peace !
peace in country, peace on earth-- it’s all they can ask for. chorong’s not so naive as to believe one concert performance can turn the tide of someone’s habits, but a small part of her clinging to the idealism mijoo inspires her with does wish that pollution could end with more awareness. it’s all they can do to be the faces of sphere that promotes such a noble cause... all they can do to contribute to a better life by being the performers they’re trained to be.
