0-II : don’t go chasing waterfalls — strongest skill ( dancing )       &

0-II : don’t go chasing waterfalls — strongest skill ( dancing )

         june fourteen. seoul arts high school. wordcount: 1074
                 quit by cashmere cat ( ft ariana grande ) : 4:33 - 5:33 !

her eyes follow the second hand of the clock mounted on the gym’s wall. the wait was so excruciating. she feels her eyes start to drift and she forces them open. as much as she can without the help of caffeine ( and she reprimands herself for refusing some this morning ). her eyes are forced open when she hears a staff member call out for dancers.she places two fingers on her wrist, feeling her heartbeat increase and goosebumps diffuse throughout her extremities. adrenaline—instead of caffeine—fuels her now. she stands up from her seat when told, following the staff members along with the other aspiring idols. 

her mouth is shut. she’s been to a hundred and one auditions before. auditioning wasn’t new to her and she’d be talking to her other auditionees with a certain swagger that signals her confidence. but is also meant to daunt others. this audition wasn’t like the rest—she’s nervous. unusually nervous and her heart beats faster as they’re brought to a hallway lined with chairs. she eyes the hallway leading to the staircase and the building’s exit. a small feeling in her heart tells her she isn’t readyyet and she should just leave.

but this is what she wanted, right? yes. sothere’s no going back now.

everyone was allotted a minute to showcase their skill. there wasn’t any chance to showcase more and she wasn’t certain there weren’t any second chances. there were seats lined up for the auditionees to sit but they were all dancers.( how could one expect them to sit? ) she peeks at her peers to her left, then her right. a few were completely still, some were completely performing. then there was jungeun. not too still but not too energetic. she decided to use her energy adequately or just a right amount—like an allusion to goldilocks and the three bears. 

she shook her arms and legs, letting blood flow and nerves fly away. eyes closed, she listens to the song she chose for her audition. she marks her steps, lightly punching her palm to the beat. her lips mouth the words, lyrics she’s heard over and over. 

“kim jungeun?" 

her final attempt to practice is broken when a staff member opens the classroom door, calling for her name. jungeun hands her phone to the staff member, song already queued up, following without another word. her body is in control now. not her nerves, not her thoughts. she’s practiced this, over and over. 

breathe, jungeun. 

her mother’s voice rings in her head and its like a switch was flipped. in the door and her nervousness was stripped away. she struts into the room, arms casually swinging side to side, with a smirk on her face as she maintains eye contact on the judges. her nerves try to fight back. five, six, seven, eight. jungeun counts in her head, numbers she’s heard countless of times, becoming a pillar of stability for her in nervous moments. jungeun stops in the middle of the room, exerting a single breath. 

her arms find their place inside her jean’s pockets. she decided to stick to a more comfortable outfit, leaving her makeup to be the accessory that pops out.

jeans, t-shirt, heeled boots. short dress, ballet shoes. fashion is important but whether you’re wearing a garbage bag or couture, your movements will always be the one speaking for you.  

her mother’s voice rings in her head "hey, i’m kim jungeun—” jungeun greeting in a calm tone. nothing too cheeryor nothing poisoned with aegyo.a greeting that’s her. she wasn’t in the miss korea pageant. she was just here to dance. “—and i’ll be dancing today." 

barely having time to get into starting position, a staff member takes that as the cue to start. the music starts to blare through the speakers provided by staff and jungeun’s caught off guard. she misses the first couple seconds but she doesn’t give up. 

when you’ve practiced something enough, your body will be able to move on its own. no matter what happens. it’s muscle memory. 

she catches on, starting to perform the routine she’s practice since february.she expected the mgas to return and so she practiced everyday. bit by bit, learning the choreography then altering it to her style. 

( ** for reference, look at the girl on the left in a cropped long sleeve+shorts ** ) 

we’re heading deep
inside lives a voice, a voice so quiet
but i can’t hear that voice when your heart beats next to mine 

there’s a fluidity to the piece, a fluidity she’s been familiar with due to her background in ballet and contemporary styles. she lets her body contort, showing her comfort in her flexibility. the flexibility she’s earned through countless hours of stretching. stretching to make perfect battementsandpirouettes. 

in the fluidity, there’s also power. popping and locking warranted by certain beats. she thanks her lessons learned in jazz and hip-hop. lessons added to her base as she grew in her journey as a dancer. 

i can’t quit you 

when you’re on the floor, you leave everything on the floor. you give it your all. 

her mother’s words ring once more. she pauses as the music continues to play. the music stops for a second and she smiles at the judges. the choreography takes a turn as the song does. ariana’s singing is replaced by cashmere cat’s instrumental, as fluid movements are replaced by more powerful ones. movements that are borrowed from the veins of hip-hop dancing. she admits she’s not the best at the style, which is why she lived in america to train for it. 

and she’s thought about choosing a hip hop piece for this audition but she wasn’t going to chase waterfalls. not now, at least. but she decided to mix what she grew up with and what she recently trained in. this audition was a cumulation of her life as a dancer. this present bridging past and future, showcased through the piece she’s presented. 

yeah i’m gonna regret it 

as her performance ended, her feelings were anything but.a smile is on her face and she bows deeply. once. she stands up, smile still plastered as she tries to regain her breathing. 

“remember me.” 

she decided a long bow was enough for a thank you. but she wanted to let the judges know that she was someone to look out for. whether or not she made it to the next round wasn’t in her thoughts now and quitting her life a dancer wasn’t in the equation. not now. not ever.

there’s definitely no turning back now.