#mga five audition

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.

0-I : your uber has arrived — arrival

          june fourteen. seoul arts high school. six am. wordcount: 840

“jungeun we support your dreams but you know we had onerequest. one condition.you need to finish high school first." 

i know. she keeps her mouth shut but she really finds it unfair.it wasn’t like she was going to drop out if she joined the competition. it wasn’t like there weren’t any trainees who were simultaneously students—her school had plenty of them. 

she was young in the real world but the idol world moved considerably fast. there were already people her age debuting; her friends were joining the competition and she wasn’t getting any younger. 

"you’re not joining the mgas and that’s final. its too early for you.”  



jungeun looked at the trees and buildings blurring against the car’s speed. the sun was barely opening its eyes; shewas barely opening hers. a year has passed since the last mgas, she’s had to see some her closest friends and peers achieve their dreams ( which were equally hers as well ). she could say she was happy for them, yet she felt an odd mix of emotions. jungeun wasn’t able to join them. jungeun wasn’t able to do anything to achieve her dreams. 

she turned her focus to her parents sitting in the driver and passenger seat. she remembers barely being home when the fourth season was appearing. her sentiments towards her parents were too bitter but she couldn’t muster the courage to express her feelings. she knew they supported her but she knew how much her parents valued education. if she wasn’t planning to go to college, she should at least finish up high school.

that was all in the past now. 

jungeun learned that she couldn’t change the past. she could only move towards the future. jungeun unintentionally let out a sigh, earning the attention of her parents. the car halted to a stop, the blurry background changing into a collection of buildings. 

seoul arts high school. 

she was here. it was time. it was hertime. 

“remember, slow and steady wins the race,” her dad turned around, flashing her a reassuring smile. 

“you got this, sweetheart. you’ve trained for this moment. now it’s yours to take,” jungeun’s mom said, as she ran her fingers through her daughter’s hair she helped straighten this morning.

“thank you mom and dad,” jungeun thanked her parents with the utmost sincerity. she knew their support was hers—there was nothing stopping her. jungeun opened the car door and grabbed her bag. “wish me luck.”

it was to her advantage that the audition sites were at arts schools. she wasn’t at sopa but it didn’t make much of a difference. yes, the people in this particular situation are new faces and she didn’t have her friends with her. but she could adapt. she knew the feeling of auditioning in small classrooms and having to walk through hallways seeing others sing and dance in rooms.

she titled her head down to glance at the nametag on her chest—kim jungeun—which was to be on her at all times. the lady walking in front of her turned around and smiled. 

“nervous?” the lady, who junguen assumed was a worker, asked. jungeun shook her head,  flashing a light smile in response. thank god you’re not as mean as the other one, she thought, thinking of the receptionist with the sour expression. it was early in the morning, yeah. jungeun understands but a light smile would be nice ( and this is coming from a master of the RBC ).

they stop at the gym and the lady parts from jungeun without saying a word, finding it less important than collecting the clipboards on the tables laid out across the large room. jungeun scans the room, looking for somewhere to sit as she waited to be measured. 

she finds the process redundant. height and weight were questions on the application but she assumes not everyone is as honest as her. insoles are a thing, she says to herself. her eyes squint when she sees a familiar face. she almost laughs because of all the people who could possibly be her good luck charm, it wasn’thim. but here he was, being the nuisance that he is. just sitting in a chair, minding his business. he glances at her, immediately turning his head away to pretendlike he’s listening to the person next to him. 

woojin. i know you can see me. his lack of attention causes her to move closer to him, stopping at the empty seat next to him. 

“is this seat taken,” the blonde asks. she really didn’t have anyone to sit with, as heejin was assigned to a different school. ( she makes a mental note to thank her best friend for the good luck essay sent to her. ) he doesn’t answer—typical woojin. “good ‘cause i was just wondering. i like my space." 

jungeun emphasizes the last word as she took the seat next to the one she was inquiring about. she crosses her arms as she waits for her name to be called and measurements to be taken. 

this was going to be a long day..

0-V : sing your heart out — second skill

        june fourteen. seoul arts high school. wordcount: 852
               ( acapella ) lights by ellie goulding : 0:00 - 0:55 !

jungeun’s exhausted at this point. she tries not to display it but she’s ready to nap. no—she’s ready to hibernate. this day was really a test of her stamina and patience,the latter being run thin by certain people. ( one specifically named woojin. ) 

she almost screams grace when she hears the announcement for their allotted twenty minute break. aside from a short bathroom and refreshment break, jungeun decides to keep her focus on the audition. to her belief, any time spent that wasn’t towards getting a few minutes of practice was time wasted. so she decided to use it to practice for her second skill.  

until a few months ago, singing was more like a hobby. 

first and foremost, she was a dancer. in a group, she never thought of being assigned anything but main dancer. yet, the idol world is always changing and she has to change alongside it. she admits that she isn’t the best singer. yet she buffers the damage to her ego by thinking she’s not bad at all.apply practice where needed, that’s all. 

she finds herself a small corner that doesn’t have much people. she has learned that the second skill presentation was purely improv.so, she couldn’t stray too much from what she was good at. most importantly, she couldn’t stray from what she was comfortable at. 

she was not mariah. she was not whitney. she was not beyonce. 

she wasn’t even selena gomez. 

to put light on the shade, jungeun decided to sing lightsby ellie goulding. there wasn’t any vocal acrobatics jungeun would have to put her vocal cords in. but it also wasn’t boring.most importantly, it was a song jungeun could relate to. 

she thanks her time lived in america for strengthening her skill in the english language and subsequently, strengthening her understanding of the song. she found herself relating to parts of the song, the lyrics captioning certain parts of her personal journey. she remembers the darkness she felt last year, feeling trapped and unable to pursue her dreams. 

but that was in the past. completely in the past. she hammered that thought in her head throughout the day. she was here now, at the fifth mga’s, ready to pursue her dreams. 

she was happy that her first audition was for her strongest skill. in all honesty, she’s exerted most of her energy and effort towards her dance performance. she doesn’t regret it, knowing that she put her all into the skill she’s most passionate in.    

still, it doesn’t hurt to try. the twenty minutes pass in the blink of an eye ( and she isn’t so sure she was able to practice singing much ). 

the process repeats. stand by practice room, watch people practice, get called, walk in confidently. 

the staff in front of her are now familiar faces, but this is possibly ( yet not hopefully ) her final performance. she bows in front of them, “hello again, i’m kim jungeun and i’ll be singing ‘lights’ by ellie goulding today.” 

she starts to sing the song, taking her time to savor the song. she tries not to sing too fast out of nervousness and she tries not to sing too slow, making a snoozefest out of herself.

i had a way then 
losing it all on my own
i had a heart then
but the queen has been overthrown

her singing voice is light and airy as it always is. ( maybe even nasally at times, if you find her annoying. ) she closes her eyes, trying to feel the music that isn’t in the room. 

and i’m not sleeping now
the dark is too hard to beat
and i’m not keeping up
the strength i need to push me

she’s thankful that the song doesn’t require high notes, vibrato, or anything too advanced for her. it requires sounding good at least, so she tries to annunciate the words to her best ability. she doesn’t mumble, afraid of turning into an indie girl meme on american twitter.  

you show the lights that stop me turn to stone
you shine it when i’m alone
and so i tell myself that i’ll be strong
and dreaming when they’re gone
cause they’re calling, calling, calling me home
calling, calling, calling home
you show the lights that stop me turn to stone
you shine it when i’m alone
oh

she continues to sing, eyes fluttering open as she nears the end of the chorus and her performance. she ends the last line with an added oh, a word that wasn’t in the original. she bows to the judges once more, thanking them. 

“thank you.” jungeun says. 

“thanks,” one of the staff members say, obvious wear in their voices. she remembers she wasn’t the only one that was absolutely exhausted. she hopes that her performance, her overall performance, was enjoyable enough for her to move on to the next round. but it was out of her hands now and into the universe’s. she did what she could, she tried her best.  “you may return your nametag and leave. good luck.” 

0-IV : if you leave it all on the stage, what else do you have left? 

        june fourteen. seoul arts high school. wordcount: 616
                extra skill : speed finger painting !

there’s another moment of silence between the interviewer and jungeun. my extra skill should just be winning staring contests, she ponders for a moment. its the interviewer’s turn to clear histhroat now, mirroring jungeun’s earlier action towards him. 

“so, speed painting?” the interviewer squints his eyes to check if he’s reading correctly. the blonde is a bit amused, as its the first time she’s heard him saying anything on script. something that isn’t monotone. 

jungeun grabs her canvas bag, taking out a small ceramic tile and a palette. to save time—because who wants to watch someone mundanely prepare a palette—she prepared the colors she was planning to use the night before. 

if she gained her love of dance through her mom, she gained a love of art through her father. okay, maybe not alove,she adds.but an appreciation. ( she was just “too cool” to admit she cared about her dad’s passions as well. )

one of the other staff members prepare to bring another desk forward to her but jungeun shakes it off. jungeun adjusts herself in a way that allows the camera to capture the small tile. without a word, jungeun starts her self-proclaimed extra skill, index finger picking up a bright blue paint. she dances her finger around the top portion of the tile, replacing white with blue.

the interviewer expects her to speak. after whatever absurd bsshe decided to say during her interview, how could she possibly stay silent?but she supposes that staying silent might be the best. have those words linger in his mind and hopefully the viewers’ minds forever. 

after adding another color or two, she decided that she couldn’t just sit still and paint. she realizes that her skill gives her an extra opportunity to talk. it gave her an extra opportunity for the viewers to get to knowher. 

“you know,” jungeun finally opens her mouth about one minute in, as she adds a darker color for contrast. “my dad always told me slow and steady wins the race." 

"he lectures me a lot. i guess its natural, he’s an art professor. he also loves to tell me about rembrandt,” jungeun continues. “a name i could barely remember." 

she says the word in english, adding a play on words. if she wasn’t going to impress with her main extra skill, she might as well add a few other skills she has in her arsenal. wordplay was one of them. 

"he also says that everything is not what it seems at first—” jungeun adjusts her tile towards the camera more. one can tell that jungeun’s trying to paint a landscape. but it was a work in progress. it wasn’t the final product. so it could be interpreted in different ways. 

and the interviewer was possibly interpreting it as a piece of crap. 

jungeun eyes the interviewer glancing at his watch. she senses his impatience but she knows she has his interest. if she didn’t have it, he would’ve told her to stop secondsago. 

jungeun reminisces her father’s words. the words uttered to the interviewer were words her dad said to her approximately a year ago. those words were consoling, words for a distressed jungeun unable to join the mgas that year. she supposes that its all full circle. she completely faces the tile towards the camera.

she switches surfaces, now using the edge of her index finger and nail to add more paint to the picture. “—things may seem uncertain at first." 

waves, then birds are now seen on the tile. she completes the quick painting, facing it towards the interviewer.  

“—but they always seem to work out in the end.” 

0-III : hello, how are you? i’m fine, thank you. and you? — interview

        june fourteen. seoul arts high school. wordcount: 658

jungeun clears her throat. she wasn’t entirely sure if this was appropriate, trying to start an interview on her own terms and all. but, she didn’t want to awkwardly wait for the interviewer to start. she wasn’t a fidgeter and she wasn’t going to start today. 

the interview raises his eyebrow and continues to finish whatever he was writing on her file. she’s about to clear her throat again, when he signals for the cameraman to press the ‘start’ button. 

this is the second time i’ve been told to start. without a cue, she complains in her head and she’s sure the interviewer read her thoughts. or perhaps, read her face ( which didn’t require much to decipher ). 

— why do you want to become an idol? 

he starts without missing another second. this is it. the question. she wonders what everyone would say. i want to be an idol, i’ve been dancing since i could walk. i was inspired by chi chi, ever since then, it was history. 

she tried to recall how many people she saw in the gym. was it twenty? or fifty? it could possibly have been above one hundred. there were so many possible answers. there were so many opportunities to say clichedanswers. if jungeun wasn’t going to stand out for her talent, she might as well stand out for something. 

she lamented at the notion of becoming a variety-dol or a comic relief. in all honesty, she wasn’t quite comfortable with it. but this was a competition. 

“i was born in the winter,” she replies after a brief moment of silence. the interviewer raises his brow againat the off-topic answer. “but i hatecold weather. do you know how cold it gets in seoul? i hate those long padding jackets too.” 

the interviewer nods reluctantly. she’s going a bit too off-topic but he decides to give her the benefit of the doubt. 

“being under spotlights. that keeps you warm. that keeps mewarm.” the interviewer is relieved that the blonde is somewhatback on topic. “but besides keeping me warm. literally.they’re a guiding light. i’ve always been under some kind of spotlight—whether it be small dance studio lights or big theatre lights.” 

“spotlights are like a guiding light to me. they show me that what i love to do and who i am are worthy enough to be highlighted. so i want to stay under them forever and maybe i can be a spotlight for someone. keeping them warm when their heart is cold and giving them light when their future seems dark.” 

“and that’s what being an idol should be about, right?” 

—which artists inspire you?  

jungeun notices the interviewer’s look of skepticism turn into a slightlyimpressed one. ( but slight is better than nothing. ) he replies with the next question. 

“ariana grande, rihanna, global icon,” jungeun lists out names as he hits said names that were printed on her application. “to name a few.” 

“women who blaze trails inspire me. i’ve always been told i’ve been strong. a bit fiery”she’s honest. she doesn’t try to sugarcoat herself. she doesn’t try to paint a “princess” picture. she’s rough around the edges, but that’s jungeun. that’s her.and that’s who’ll she present. 

“but i just try to speak my mind. i want to express myself the way i want. like these artists, i want to show something new. something fun. burn the stage.”  

—what company or companies do you see yourself in? 

“nova, royal.” jungeun answers bluntly. “do i have to tell you why? you’ll just see why i’m a good fit for these companies.” 

“thank you.” the interviewer says, as another staff member opens the door. 

“thank you.” jungeun returns the words, hoping her words made a statement.