#how do we send a thank you basked to their stylist and their choreographer?

[scarefox]

[kookie-for-you]

Royal Flush

Summary

BigHit, who started taking female trainees again in recent years, decides to debut a new female group with five members. Kim Yeji is 20 years old and has been a trainee for only a couple years. Despite this, she finds herself selected as a member for this new group. Will she make it to debut? And will the group last beyond that point? And what on EARTH will she do when a member of BigHit’s most legendary group takes a more personal interest in her—and she in him?

Chapter One

“Why do you think you should be in this group?”

This was more intimidating than when I had auditioned for the company.  I tried not to show my nerves as I adjusted my seating position, attempting not to cower under the gaze of the PDs.  Instead, I gathered myself to give a confident answer.

“I know I’ve only been a trainee for a short time,” I began, glancing between the three professionals sat before me.  Three people who were responsible for forming the best group possible.  Three people with my entire future currently in their hands.  “And I’m far from the most talented trainee here.”

“Not quite selling yourself yet,” the one lady PD said, raising an eyebrow.  She was so pretty, she could be an idol herself.

I took a deep breath.  “What I do have is passion,” I said, and the PDs looked interested.  “I’m 19. I’ll be 20 next year.  I didn’t come here for a childish dream of fame. I know what I want.  And I know that BigHit can help me get it.”

“What is that, Yeji-ssi?” the man to Bang PD-nim’s left asked.  

“To make music.  To make art.  BigHit doesn’t make cookie-cutter stars that they work to the bone until they’ve rung out every last dollar.  BigHit makes artists.”  I took a breath, feeling shaken when putting these things to words, things that I wanted so deeply.  “If you look at the practice times you’ll see how much time I spend in the studio, in lessons, in the gym, even in my free hours.  I’ll be the hardest worker in any group you can make.”

The room was quiet except for some scribbling on the PDs notepads.  I kept quiet, having said everything I could.  That near-silence seemed to last forever before Bang PD-nim looked back at me with a smile.  “Thank you, Yeji-ssi,” he said.  I took the message, standing and bowing respectfully to the producers before leaving the office.

That was several months ago now.  Today, I found myself in a studio ready to take an array of pictures for our debut in the next few months.  After the hours and hours of dance rehearsals and recordings we’d been having all day the past few months, this honestly felt like a vacation. Of course, I hadn’t stepped in front of the camera yet.

I glanced away from the mirror to see Jahyun smiling charmingly for the camera.  She seemed like a natural, shining in her inherent cuteness—even playing it up a little, peeking from behind her fingers, flower-cupping her hands beneath her chin, and widening her eyes in a look of surprise.  The managers wanted her image to be especially cute and innocent, being the maknae and only 16.  

“This one first,” one of the wardrobe eunnies said, holding out a fluffy skirt and long-sleeved cropped sweater, along with a pair of white fishnets.  It was cute, but not too cute, which went along with our concept.  BigHit didn’t want to pigeon-hole their girl group into all the other schoolgirls and aegyo overload traps that debut girls had a tendency to fall into.

Once I had changed, I sat down in the makeup chair, closing my eyes and allowing the stylist to take control of my makeup.  It hadn’t been long that I suddenly felt a presence beside me, and a pair of lips right by my ear.  “Happy birthday, Yeji.”

Delighted, I opened my eyes to see my own reflection before me, accompanied now by Li Haneul standing behind me. “Haneul-eunnie!” I said happily. “How did you know?”

“I wouldn’t be a very good eunnie if I didn’t know your birthdays,” she said, and I filed away the idea to learn my younger members birthdays quickly.  I couldn’t rely on Haneul to always know.  “When did they finish your hair?  It looks so nice!  Did you come home like that last night?”

Guiltily, I shook my head, sending my new bright red locks swinging.  “I slept in the studio last night,” I admitted.  “I was working on the dance break for ‘Deck of Cards’ and then I wanted to write a few more lyric ideas for next album, and then it was too late to think about coming back.”

“You have to stop sleeping on that sofa, it’s not good for you,” Haneul scolded, and I meekly nodded.  “Minji will say the same.”

“Minji is only 18, she can tell me all she wants,” I joked, but both of us knew that even if Minji was younger, she was the leader and we’d listen to her if she told us something related to the group. “I know, eunnie, I’ll stop getting so caught up.”

“Good,” Haneul said, hugging around my shoulders quickly while the stylist looked for some more colors on her vanity.  “You need to be at your best for debut and we already work so hard.  You need good sleep and good food.”

“Did Jisoo make something very good last night?” I asked, mouth watering at the thought of what leftovers might be waiting in the dorm refrigerator.  

“Just chicken and vegetables, but the soup she made was even better.  There’s some left over for you, we made sure to set some aside.  I assumed you’d eat it when you got home…”  Haneul shook her head again.  “I wondered why I didn’t hear you come into our room.  Did you even eat at all?”

“I had some of the crackers from the studio. I wasn’t that hungry anyway.”

“What am I going to do with you?” Haneul demanded, looking equal parts amused and worried.  “I’m serious, Yeji, be sure you’re home at a reasonable hour tonight, or I’ll march to the studio myself and drag you back to bed.”

Even as Jahyun was led away to change and the managers started calling for Haneul to take her place on the set, my eunnie still stared me down until I answered.

“Yes, eunnie, I promise,” I assured her.

I broke my word, of course.  Truly, I hadn’t meant to, but once again the time had gotten away from me.  Just one more practice, I kept telling myself.  One more run-through of the song.

We would be debuting live in only two and a half months.  There wasn’t enough time to become perfect.  As I critically eyed myself in the mirror, I kept comparing myself to Haneul or Jisoo.  I’d never be as good of a dancer as them.  Haneul had a way of making everything seem effortless, and the swag that Jisoo had in her rap also extended to her dance.  

And yet, I constantly found myself being placed at the center.  “Yeji-ssi has such a strong visual.”  That was what the managers and choreographers had said.  I wondered if my looks were what had gotten me into the group.  Had my hard work spoken for itself, had my talent put me here?  Or did they just need  a center, a visual?

Exhausted after another round of rehearsing, I plopped to the floor right in the middle of the studio.  I fumbled for the remote for the music in my pocket, turning it off before it started itself over again.  Laying flat at my back, I squinted up at the bright lights.  How was I going to keep up after debut?  The members always reassured me when my fears came to surface, saying I was just as good as them and we all needed each other for the group to be a success.

Absent-mindedly, I started humming a tune, one that I’d invented in my head and had been stuck there for weeks.  All the songs for the debut album were written and mostly recorded. But, like I’d told Haneul earlier, I’d already found myself thinking of new songs for the next album.

Slowly, I sat up, turning away from the mirror. I didn’t want to look at my exhausted reflection any longer.  I was pretty sure I had sweat so much that my new red hair would bleed onto my skin. The tune in my head kept playing and so, almost unknowingly, I began to sing.

This song was different than the ones that were for debut.  The ones we had were poppy and happy, things to make you dance.  Even the one ballad was about having fun in the sun at the end of the day.  But this song, the one that my heart seemed to be demanding I write, was more personal to me.

The studio had great acoustics, and I found myself singing louder and louder, basking in the sound of the words echoing off the practice room walls.  It felt freeing, honestly; to sit here and sing something that didn’t have to be perfect just now.  It was something that was just for me.

“And I’ll fly,” I sang.  “I’ll fly.  But like petals tossed in the air, am I flying or floating or falling?”  My own lyrics hit me harder than I thought they would in that moment.  I really didn’t know whether I was flying or falling right now.  What if everyone hated our group?  BigHit hadn’t put out a new group since Bangtan—what if we couldn’t live up to them? They’d had the benefit of not having such high expectations when they debuted.  The whole world would be watching Royal Flush.

“It’s a shame you never know, until you land or hit the ground,” I finished, letting the last note reverberate around the space and then fade away.  Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes for just a moment.

And then they flew open again, hearing applause from the doorway.  One set of hands clapping.  I whirled around, expecting to see Haneul or Minji, ready to scold me and drag me back to the dorm.

What I didn’t expect to see was one of the most handsome and most famous men in all of South Korea leaning against the doorframe.

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