LIGHT FEET STUDIO / MIDANG ENTERTAINMENT
CHOREOGRAPHER / MENTOR
BTS:
You discover early on that “no” isn’t a word you particularly like—not unless you’re the one using it.
It’s movie night with mom’s eighth copy of Swan Lake, this time courtesy of the Royal Ballet and this time somehow compelling enough that you comment on how pretty and sad Margot Fonteyn looks. Your parents share a look and your mother, heart nearly thumping out of her chest, emergency ejects from her spot on the couch to make a phone call.
She’d made a good call, so to speak—you take to ballet swiftly and your instructors make note of your well-matched physique and willingness to learn, the latter of which catches your parents by welcome surprise.
Your ego inflates indefinitely and you make enemies out of most your peers, extracurricular or otherwise. But then, you’ve always been a prideful creature—the corps, school, and every social interaction has only ever been a stepping stone.
You jump at the opportunity to apprentice abroad, but huddled amongst hundreds of other hungry hopefuls you find yourself very quickly eclipsed. Your will wavers and your eyes wander.
What 16-year-old Ryubin might have labeled a shameful return home you label a triumph. You strangled that little asshole and left her to rot in a dreary London catacomb, resurrected now as (*deep inhale*) “Been”.
Even if you missed out on the Prix, you picked up some new tricks to bring back and share. Mom is gracious enough to tuck her disappointment away, force a smile, and make another phone call for you.
It’s another arduous climb from there but you’re well taken care of at home and your newfound godlike benevolence makes swallowing people’s shit this time around a lot easier.
You swear to cut down—figuratively, of course—every little asshole that reminds you of you. Gaze fixed on the mirror and the troupe of warriors reflected behind you, it’s a goddamn battlefield.
“Tired yet?”
“No, ssaem!”
“That’s what I like to hear. Again.”
I’ve been trying to nail down who I’d select as representatives of the Qiang. The problem is that we’re spoiled for choice. There are a large number of Qiang chieftains mentioned in the SGZ and related accounts; candidates are not hard to come by. The issue is find one who - by importance or longevity - distinguishes himself above the others.
The Xiongnu were a unified polity, so it is easy to pick out leaders to represent them. The Xianbei were recently unified as well, and the various Wuhuan chieftains formed a confederacy with clear leaders. This is not the case with the Qiang tribes. They were numerous and disunified, so picking out just one or two chieftains to represent them is difficult.
Mídāng (迷当) seems to be a popular choice, but I don’t really see anything in particular to recommend him. He was involved in a single campaign in 240 (easily crushed by Guo Huai) and there is no further mention of him.
My choice would be the chieftain Zhìwúdài (治无戴) of Liang province. There was a very large Qiang revolt in 247, in which Zhiwudai was a leading member. These Qiang gained support from Shu and seized territory in Wei, but they were defeated by Guo Huai. Zhiwudai continued to revolt in the next year, again with assistance from Shu. After being defeated a second time, he made formal submission to Shu.
A second leader of note is Zhēsāi (遮塞), who was involved in the same conflicts as Zhiwudai. He is mentioned twice in Guo Huai’s biography - first as Ézhēsāi 蛾遮塞. His second mention drops the character 蛾 , suggesting that it was likely an error in the first instance.
Between these two men, I would lean towards Zhiwudai. Zhesai is mentioned only in Guo Huai’s biography. The biographies of Jiang Wei and Liu Shan only mention Zhiwudai (and his surrender to Shu), which seems to imply that he was the stronger of the two (or perhaps the only one who lived).
There is, of course, nothing to suggest that these men weren’t involved in previous revolts or that - having survived the events of 248 - they did not participate in subsequent revolts. The same can be said for any other Qiang leaders one could name.
But working entirely from textual evidence, Zhiwudai seems to have been the more prominent member. If we are to select a representative
Born and raised in Seoul, South Korea to a working class mother and father, Rorin never had it easy as a child. Living in a more expensive area of town due to their jobs, the two of them could barely afford to stock their fridge with groceries, so there was no room for luxuries and impulse purchases. Finding joy in the simple things was a necessity, so as a child, she found pleasure in the various hobbies she could teach herself at home. For one thing, they didn’t cost any money, and for another thing, it gave her a vivid and wild imagination. From sketching original cartoon characters to emulating the voices of those she loved, to later using her artistic skills to pick-up on calligraphy, she took on a lot of simple interests. In school, she was very detail-oriented, organized, and focused—her parents drilling in her head that a good education could promise her a beautiful future. Never wanting to disappoint them, she worked hard; never receiving low grades.
Upon the entrance to middle school, her father was let-go from his job; his decades of work in vain. With her mother being the sole earner of their home for awhile, the Byun household saw a lot of dark moments. Her income wasn’t nearly enough to put food on the table and pay their bills, but they somehow managed to make things work. Home-life was a mess, and what’s worse is that school wasn’t much better for her. Because of her financial situation, many students made fun of her. Due to her smarts, she was able to test into a pretty good school with a scholarship, and it was made apparent that she wasn’t like the kids who paid to study there. That insecurity and ridicule is what caused her to begin lying to earn her peers’ respect. First, it was letting them know that her dad had picked up another job that was paying them good money. Then, it was using every penny of her menial allowance money to buy herself meaningless things to show status. Many lunches and dinners were sacrificed; all in exchange for a little acceptance.
In high school, she started to sew designer tags onto her thrift store clothing—claiming that she admired expensive, vintage fashions. By this point, she’d learned to lie as if it was her second language. It became so comfortable for her to spill untruths to friends. What’s worse is that they believed her for a very long time, but as they aged, they were able to find flaws in her stories. It was difficult for her to keep up with fibs she’d told, so before graduation, she was exposed as a fraud. That completely muddied up her spot as number one in her class. Looks like her overactive imagination couldn’t save her this time around, but she hoped that she could create a new version of herself in college.
Thanks to yet another scholarship earned because of her grades and high test scores, Rorin began attending university—her chosen career path in the world of business marketing and media. With how her brain worked, it was easy for her to come up with strategies to sell things to a consumer; her way of lying used to dupe people into purchasing products. Though, in the midst of her studies, she was stopped at a shopping mall by a casting agent from Midang Entertainment. After he praised her visuals, she was in complete shock. For most of her life, she felt as though she paled in comparison to all of her former “friends” from years ago. They had the money to afford cosmetic surgery, high-end cosmetics, and skincare to keep them aglow twenty-four-seven, and she had nothing except good genetics. If that. That’s what the company seemed to like about her, though: the pale skin, the large eyes, the look of innocence, the naturalness. It was what they were looking for completely.
Their offer brought up a lot of thought. First of all, it was flattering that they stopped her in the first place. She wasn’t someone that was used to being called “beautiful,” so that left an impression on her that she couldn’t forget easily. Secondly, if she was passable enough to début, that could mean a lot of money in the future. That’s the most crucial thing to her: becoming independently wealthy to a place where she could support her family. Yes, earning a degree and holding down a good job would have a similar effect, but she wasn’t sure which road to financial gain would be faster to travel down. In the end, she took a leave of absence from school and start training; aiming to be an idol.
What she lacked in performance she made up for with sharp intellect; her every move calculated to show that her charms weren’t necessarily resting on singing or dancing. It was made apparent from day one that she was meant to be someone marketed for their supposed “beauty” alone; someone that didn’t have a crucial musical role in their group, but one who attracted fans with smiles, winks, and solo magazine covers. Was she able to pick-up on the basics of dance, the easy fundamentals of singing, and the power of rapping? Yes, but only to a degree that made her match the concept and sound. Instead of polished belted notes, she stuck to a girlish, cute timbre that made her recognizable. For dancing, she didn’t focus on technique, but instead, on exuding a pleasant energy; donning endless grins and flirtatious gestures to pull in a crowd. That made her an asset instead of a hindrance, so despite not being fully prepared, she was added to Wish Day.
Being appointed as the group’s official visual, netizens had a lot to say about her at their début. Some praised her “effortless beauty,” but others were critical of her appearance. Often, her “haters” would point out that her face wasn’t exactly the smallest around and that her body didn’t perfectly suit the current ideal. At first, it was a massive blow to her system. Who wants to read such awful things about themselves anyway? It took her a moment to navigate her way through comments sections on live stages and fan-cams, but after awhile, she was able to draw a line between Roa and Rorin. In a lot of ways—mostly physically—they were the same, but behind the scenes, they couldn’t be more opposite. That division alone is what allowed her to mostly keep her sanity in check.
In essence, this wasn’t necessarily a dream of hers that came true; it’s just a job. It’s one that could set her up for life if she plays her cards right. Money’s the end goal, after all. It had to take a lot more than toxic comments to throw her off course. Keeping her eyes on the bigger picture, she has countered with wrapping herself up in a more palatable façade. After the first two years in the industry came and went, she began to approach an image that made her everyone’s ideal type; longing to appear as “girlfriend material” to both guys and girls. These moves, like always, were done on-purpose; her hope that being someone adored would earn a much bigger payout than someone controversial.
With each new release, Rorin’s been able to reveal all the best sides of herself to the public at large. Does she still get an influx of comments telling her that she’s a clumsy dancer or complaining about the fact that she never actually sings live unless forced? You bet, but she takes comfort in just accepting those as true facts. She can still be desirable even if she’s sloppy on-stage. It’s not like she’s in the dance-line or renown for stunning vocals, so why should it matter if she was lacking in comparison to the others?
After all these years, she still lies, but she does so in efforts to dupe people into thinking that she’s perfect. If they only knew about her overcritical obsessive nature, her lies, and manipulation to get what she wants, a completely different picture would be painted. All of this is about marketing, anyway. You could be the most talented person in the world, but if you’re not likable, there’s no chance anyone will support you. For Rorin, attracting stans has become as easy as telling her former friends she was rich. Let’s just hope she doesn’t get exposed for being a fraud yet again. History does have a funny way of repeating itself sometimes.
there’s supposedly nothing special about dahee when she’s born. she’s the middle child with an older brother and younger sister, but she’s never really felt isolated since her parents did a great job on making sure each and every child was loved. she believed she’d grow up with no big difficulties in life
she’s young when she discovers a love for the arts. it’s mostly painting and drawing, and so her parents decide early on that that’s the road that she’ll be pushed, and she doesn’t fight against it since she enjoys it as well
she’s just starting her high school years in an arts high school when her life changes on two occasions. one: she’s approached by a talent scout from midang entertainment who claims that she’s exactly what they’re looking for. she politely declines because she’s majoring in painting, and that’s the only road she wants to go down, but the casting manager doesn’t give up and eventually succeeds in handing dahee her card. she doesn’t put much thought into it. until two: her father is scammed out of his money by someone he believed he could trust. suddenly he’s out of a job, and the family is crashing. there’s red tags on everything at home, and she finds herself feeling guilty for wanting to stay in college anymore. it’s then dahee decides that being an idol doesn’t sound too bad, and so she steps into midang entertainment on her own with the casting manager’s card in her hand, and that’s the beginning of what she hopes to be a new, enriching life
dahee’s never been interested in any of the arts other than painting, and so when she’s suddenly pushed left and right, it’s difficult. there seems to be some kind of natural talent that backs her up when it comes to singing though because that’s where she gets most of her praise, and it’s what she ends up spending more time on. she practically lives at the training center because she doesn’t want to go home and hear her mother cry at the dinner table every night and because she’s determined to debut; she absolutely has to.
her hard work pays off or she’s simply lucky because three years later, she’s announced as the leader of the company’s new girl group as well as the lead vocalist—those extra hours she spent in the singing booths seems to have paid off—and all she can think is thank you
the debuted life isn’t too different from the trainee life, especially in the beginning. it’s a repetitive process, but dahee doesn’t complain since it’s better than being stuck at home with the red tags reminding her of what her family has crashed down to. seeing her easel and painting materials hanging around in her room is just a big fuck you to everything that she could have become. so she just follows along with everything the company wants her to do like a little puppet
she puts on the act of being the perfect idol. aegyo? you’ve got it. some overexaggerated reactions for a couple more seconds of screen time? dahee’s on it. impersonations that aren’t even funny but people laugh at anyway because she’s trying? she practices so hard for that. the one and only skill that she actually has is painting, and the company is quick to make sure everybody knows that. soon, dahee’s drawing everybody and everything to prove to people that she’s some art prodigy that decided to become an idol instead—as if she had a choice
to fans and the public, dahee quickly becomes some kind of born-to-be-idol as they comment about how they can’t imagine her being anything else though she definitely can
she’s entertaining, pretty and can sing quite decently—she’s their lead vocalist after all, isn’t she?—and so she gets a couple more opportunities than she would like in the form of ost’s and show appearances but as long as that means the money keeps rolling in, she goes with it. that’s the only reason she’s in this job anyway. the money
it’s been three years, and dahee still acts as a puppet. there’s nothing else she knows how to be, and she knows that with the success that wish day has been tasting, it won’t be too long until her family can hopefully get back on their feet. then and only then does she feel like she can enjoy this job
Born into family as the only child to working parents, Yerim was used to working alone. She was always hands on with whatever she did, finishing everything with a big smile and a sense of achievement. She took pride in whatever she attached her name to. School was important for Yerim, as she was usually at the top of her class. It only moved down the rankings of priorities when she became a trainee.
Dancing was a hobby she enjoyed in her free time. It was something she was passionate about since she was younger. Once she was old enough, Yerim became a member of a dance crew, honing her skill and adding multiple genres and style to her repertoire. People suggested that she try to pursue dancing professionally. Street casted by an entertainment company, Yerim didn’t look too much into it and assumed that the company would take her on as a background dancer.
However when she auditioned for Midang, she realized what the company were looking for. They were looking for people who become idols, which was something she had no interest in before. The audition went horribly and she doesn’t pass, mainly due to her underwhelming vocals.
She goes home discouraged, but she went home with a goal. She was determined to prove that she was good enough to be accepted. She takes vocal lessons, focusing on developing an acceptable technique and stability. The second time she audtioned a year later, they saw the potential in her. She was accepted and signs with Midang Entertainment. They focus on her singing since it was lightyears behind her dancing abilities. Her training was vigorous so that they didn’t miss out on a potential star and the perfect opportunity to debut her when it was time.
Struggled with her voice at debut. She still wasn’t the best vocalist and hadn’t developed a good breathing technique for singing while dancing. Live performances were used as proof, but Yerim was still good besides that. With each comeback, Yerim drastically improved on her stability and breathing, earning praise and earning new fans as her dancing was still remarkable for that time.
Over the years, Yerim had a peaceful career. Her reputation was as clean as it could be, never catching herself in any major scandals or anything that would land her in hot waters with the general public. However, she did acquire a couple of saesangs who have done some extreme actions in attempts to get close to Yerim over the years. The most well known incident happened to be her worst memory as Vi’Va, as someone found her hotel information and meddled their way into her room. She was unharmed, but the fact that someone was able to be somewhere she thought she’d be safe terrified her. She inspects the room she’s in most of the time just incase.
Yerim is still very open about her life. As Vi’Va, she is fairly active and always updates and interacts with fans. Most of them are satisfied, as she never goes long without updating them on her life or providing them with content. She had learned how to balance her public and private life, and it was easy for her to separate the two from each other. Not many, if any, can distinguish the two and often think that the side of her that she shows on broadcasts is the true version of herself, when it is not the case. She’s extremely private with things that matter to her.
It’s fifteen years later, and she’s still having fun on the stage. But as the oldest active artist under Midang, Yerim also feels pressure to excel due to her longevity. She began feeling like she had to continue because people expected her to instead of truly wanting to. Retirement crossed her mind a few times when she turned thirty as she never really had much of a desire to be an idol in the first place, but it wasn’t like she loathed it. She had watched the new generation of artists, and got to learn why some of them wanted to be an idol. Finding them admirable, Yerim went on a journey to find what she loved about performing. She is still searching for the exact reason, but she had found a good few possibilities over the years.
Considered a important figure in the history of Midang Entertainment due to being the only artist under the company to make it past nine years. There was a decade between her debut and the debut of the second oldest atist under Midang Entertainment, and she can’t help but feel out of place when placed next to her label mates. They make her painfully aware of how long she’s been performing and how “out of date” she may appear to those who comment on her age and question why she’s still performing on stage.
Having dedicated a good portion of her life to this career, she can’t see herself being away from it. Even after she releases her last song and stops performing, she’ll be actively involved in the industry somehow. Yerim could train others and help them prepare for the new world they would soon enter, given that she had years of experience. However, she doesn’t have the rest of her life planned out. She had pursued a degree to have an extra backup plan just incase all fails, but she doesn’t believe that it’ll necessarily be used.
before saerom signs to midang entertainment, she’s flying high in her second year as a k-arts university cheerleader―not quite the “bring it on” kind who gets tossed in the air, but the kind in lace-up boots, baggy victorian sleeves and ruffles, who hype up the crowd at sports events through chants and cheers only slightly different than that of cheer squads in the west. like amusement park performers, it reads more shakespearean play than ra-ra-ra!, though she supposes if that were truly the case there’d be a touch more irony in their school festivals. a rose by any other name is still a rose. or something.
before that, she’s a dancer ― the kind that’s good enough to compete in local competitions, but not the prodigal kind, not the kim yuna destined-for-gold kind. she holds her own, but she’s humbled by dancers levels ahead of her, enough that she thinks better of making it her major in college when she applies, enough that she knows better than to embarrass herself by raising her hand for lyrical solos when the opportunities arise for volunteers. besides, most of the parts she really wants have a way of becoming hers anyway. her instructors consider her a stand out, charismatic, and they pick on her when she talks too much in class, when she wears her hair differently, when she does well during class critiques. she lacks ambition, but never fails to lead the eye, the conversation. she knows exactly what she’s doing. some of her classmates see through her “who, me?” bullshit and call her on it. whatever. they’re jealous.
her mom thinks that she was born for greatness ― her mom is a former dancer, too, but more than that, she’s a one-day-i-could’ve-been-a singer who lives vicariously through her daughter’s accomplishments. even the little ones. especially the little ones.
the two of them live alone, her dad long gone to marital discord and the lingering regret of having a child too young, too soon with a woman he only barely loved - he keeps in contact and houses her in the summer at his new home in busan, with his new wife and new kids, who saerom feels right at home with. he’s a lawyer, her mother a sonographer. they’re on amicable terms and saerom feels spoiled at every holiday, through every opportunity that being born well-off provides her. doted.
the first big risk she ever takes of her own volition is by auditioning for midang in the spring semester of her second year as an acting major, and from there the list kind of grows, leaps and bounds, as she learns the benefits of being an acknowledged talent within her company - the benefits of wanting something badly enough. and she’s content when she’s placed into a debut project group with the projected role of lead dancer and vocalist, and, later down the line, she pretends to be surprised when she’s made the face of the group, (overlooked for leader even as the oldest member, thank fucking god) as well. she’s likable, pretty, and talented in the way that’s become indicative of a midang entertainment idol, the way the face of the group should be. they’d be stupid to pick anyone else.
debut is a lot less foreboding after it actually happens, and saerom thinks that the hands in action do a good job of promoting them for what they are, for their contrast as an act on- and off-stage, as endearing as they are ethereal. they’re hardly delicate as individuals, but she thinks that it adds to their charm. they lean into the fickle nature of the industry; you like them even if you don’t.
she’s a year into it when her first opportunity to act falls into her lap ― it’s a small role in a school webdrama, something to test the waters while they all find their niche as idols. filming goes well, but group promotions don’t stop either, and she feels the effects of it through a lack of any real time to breathe. the webdrama does well, she’s well-received despite her lack of practical experience in acting, and it’s from there forward that her personal schedules, her group schedules, and her work load as a student, intertwined and overlapping, become her new normal. her personal fanbase grows exponentially. she likes the attention.
she’s one of the lucky ones in terms of public standing. still, nothing prepares her for the online backlash that comes with the praise. a balance of the two becoming something that she comes to expect whenever she does anything outside of the group ― she thinks she’s as hated as she is loved, a side effect of fame, of relative visibility, but she knows better than to complain; kind of likes it, even. so, she takes it in stride, as well as she can. only tortures herself with reading through hate comments online about her performance in her latest role when she feels down enough; only soothes the burn with love from her fans when she thinks she’s earned it. negativity always sounds the loudest.
she doesn’t know when the change happened, when it started to matter what anybody thinks of her, but her hardwork is her currency, her face and her name and her personality. she’s funny, unobtainable, beautiful ― kim saerom, rosé. she’s everywhere.
The sun, the light, the sky
The leper, deep in sorrow.
At moon rise, in the barley field,
He devours a child.*
All night,
He weeps: cries of crimson colored flowers.
*it was thought for centuries in Korea that eating a child would cure leprosy
