tonight’s performance for exodus is going to end with his solo segment, the encore another routine that he’s been practicing for more than a week, perfecting to the point where he doesn’t have rooms of leeway to simply doubt a misstep. harsh at himself as always, all of his performances must have no mistakes, although sometimes he cannot help it. still, the adrenaline from the pleasure surges in as he scans the crowd that circles around them, watching their busking from the beginning to the end. it’s much appreciated, those within the audience who remain standing with their phones recording some snippets and videos, especially when they have been there since the dusk. it’s almost like a private exhibit, again, their setlist polished so well to ensure the best experience for their spectators. exodus is never there to disappoint even when it’s merely a street level for some, and jongin ensures their quality while upholding the reputation himself as one of the founding members.
the last song is an old piece that he’s performed a few times before, but it’s mostly known as one of the most watched videos on his channel. it’s just a signature for him to not don the mask during his recording considering the consistencies, even when he still uses his alias for the name of the channel. now that he’s executing the motion-based tale on the song, some of the audience might still not know his channel and vice versa—his very identities as kai on youtube and kai from exodus can still have the disparity since some people like him anonymous. so this time, he appeases those who wish to see him not as a face, but as a body. disengaged from the expressions, of the appearances. instead, what matters is the juxtaposition of the separation and the fluidity that merges into one, crafting the syllabus of heavy tales. he’s to follow the beats that come irregular, the blasting instruments, sans lyrics, carry him away to the place where he can only care about the moves. he only stops dancing when he reaches the finish line of the story, heaving as he finally reaches that point.
the rupturing applause leaves his heaving drowned in the cacophonies. he gives a bow as he exhales in relief, knowing that he has delivered what he wanted to. getting the money is not something that they really look at, typically using the cash obtained for renting the studio, as well as bonding with the members through soju nights. he lets his breathing cool down as the rest of exodus comes to give the last bow together. when the crowd fades eventually, jongin takes off his mask and gloves, shoving them into his—very branded—backpack, preparing to go home. the members are still folding the mat, and he shoulders his bag, about to head towards them when someone approaches him. it’s not uncommon to have this kind of encounter, again, but instead of screaming fangirls this one is a man with a rather familiar face. he must’ve seen the man before… somewhere… unsure—but there’s inevitably recognition written on the man’s expression, too, that isn’t just about his performance. social media might be the answer, so jongin shrugs off the tug of familiarity. he lets the man approach him in full before asking, ❛ how can i help you? ❜ his tone is almost nonchalant, not showing any sign of irritation.
› › › ft. kang dongho ( @rkbaekho ).
