#interactions ⇒ park seyong

[creamistries-blog]

[ @flcrdemaga ]

“you think i want this?” seyong rolled his eyes before taking a sip from his cup. “even if you were the last woman on earth, i still wouldn’t date you. don’t flatter yourself.”

[rkxhyunjin]

✧ MGAS SEASON FOUR: GROUP PERFORMANCE - THE CLASSICS

team d(ream)’s performance of myname’s before the dawn for the 2011 classics group performance of episode 3 with hwang hyunjin covering kim seyong

＃４００６（　jang moonbok　）　 ＃ ４０２３（　park kyungri　）　 ＃ ４０３１（　lee jeno　）　 ＃ ４０３３（　lee luda　）　 ＃ ４０４２（　hwang hyunjin　）

preparation: ( july 9 ) ( july 10 ) ( july 11 ) ( july 12 )　　

dream – a hand eclipses his face, eyes tracking the motion until it’s stretched out far and above the origin

．．．☆　☽

Only recently has Hyunjin started to dream once again.

Reality was far from kind, incessantly grinding down dreams and hopes until all that existed were fanciful pipe dreams; mere unreachable concepts. Limits defined by reality hit the dancer full force as a child, repeatedly knocking him off his feet until the only breath he took was suffocated under the harsh authority of reality’s domain.

Reality dictated that he was pitiful. Parents unable to hear the cries of their child were certainly unable to properly raise a growing boy. A boy who mumbled out half-intelligible responses certainly could never achieve in this society. A boy who smiled easily like a fool. A boy whose fingers twitched every other sentence. Hyunjin was defined by reality as a leftover; surplus to be eliminated and forgotten in the mass of perfected normalcy which populated the globe.

Reality is what Hyunjin has been fighting against since the moment he was born. Defying the odds and achieving where others sought to watch him fail, another addition to their pre-defined statistics. First in his primary school. One of one-hundred-twenty who was admitted to Seoul Science High School. One of approximately 6,000 children of deaf adults in the entirety of South Korea. One of fifty-four to make it past the preliminary auditions of the Mnet Global Auditions, Season 4.

Every rule that reality creates and Hyunjin breaks is another aspiration that finds itself into his dreams. They spill out of his sleep into early waking hours when there’s no one on the subway but him. They seep into his steps as he moves to the beat of the music, nudging him forward one step at a time. They fill his mind with possibilities reaped from the wildest corners of his imagination that he has never considered attainable. They give him dreams.

．．．☆　☽

The announcement of their upcoming group performance had Hyunjin’s mind in quiet shambles. Worried not about the members of his group and their skills, the dancer was more worried about his own capabilities and whether they would be up to standard. From the second round of auditions alone, the talent within the remaining contestants was more than clear; staring straight-on into Hyunjin’s eyes as he willed himself to approach the challenge with a clear mind and steady mentality.

If his rigorous academics had taught him one thing, it was when to prioritise his feelings, and when to push them back. Thoughts of self-doubt would do him no good, and if he truly wanted to become an asset to his team, he had to be fully present for each and every practice. There wasn’t time for Hyunjin to be so caught up in his own perceived inadequacies.

That wasn’t to say that deprecating thoughts didn’t sneak in here and there. They would find their way into his mind when he was at his weakest, sweating on the floor of the practice room and too tired to pull himself up. His mind would split amidst a cacophony of smothering thoughts and he’d lie there, for minutes, staring at nothing as indecision ate away at the stability which kept him going. Eventually he’d get past it, he always did, but that never made it easier when it finally caught up.

His mind was just so full. Full of crammed in exam information telling him what to write and what to think. Full of pressure reminding him what his education meant to him, and his family. Full of too many late nights and early mornings in a row. Full of lyrics and choreography and expression and rhythm. Full of awareness that people now knew who he was, and he wasn’t just a simple nobody anymore.

There were times when even dancing couldn’t provide Hyunjin with his normal reprieve from his own thoughts. School would force itself in, and he’d be reciting questions from memory to the beat of the song, hands pressing against the floor and pushing himself up as he moved on to a different portion of the exam with the start of the dance break.

Below are the structural formulate for compounds (가), (나), and (다), which are used as surfactant. What is the set of all correct statements from the choices? ( a ) The pH of an aqueous solution of (다) is lower than 7 ( b ) As an aqueous solution, (가) has a greater electrical conductivity than (나) ( c ) (다) is more difficult to biodegrade with microbes than (가)

A full mind wasn’t about to stop Hyunjin from practicing, but how he wished he could just let loose and simply not think.

．．．☆　☽

In terms of experience, this competition was the first time that Hyunjin had collaborated with other artists in an environment like this. With very few portions of his daily life intersecting the musical arts, his opportunities to interact were sparse and almost downright rare. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t eager to do so – the dancer looked upon this event with nervous anticipation, eager to meet more people who were like-minded in pushing and exploring the limits of their own musical boundaries.

When it came time to decide a leader, Hyunjin purposefully didn’t step up. While a part of him wasn’t sure whether or not he was confident enough to lead an entire team of people, he knew that even if he was fully confident it wouldn’t be right for him to assume the position. Still in his last week of the semester, Hyunjin had cram school in the evenings that often interrupted them mid-training, causing him to leave early. Of course, he came back to practice later, but by the time he was back at the studio most of them had already left. Not that he could blame them, arriving past eleven at night almost certainly meant taking the subway back home was out of the question. Unless they lived close by, eleven was the latest most could manage and still get back home.

If the dancer wanted to be the leader, Hyunjin would have had to be someone that the team could rely on 24/7, and while Hyunjin liked to think the team could rely on him should the need arise, he knew that based on his schedule he just simply wasn’t able to provide the support a leader should. Cell phone use was strictly prohibited during both the mock exams and cram school courses, effectively cutting him off from the rest of the world for hours on end. Their team needed someone who would and could fully dedicate themselves and their time to their performance.

Kyungri made for an excellent leader. Her drive gave Hyunjin motivation to push on through days of mind-numbing exhaustion. The singer knew the ins and outs of their team; knew what every individual needed to thrive while also acknowledging the difficulty of integrating their skills into one cohesive unit. Their team may not be the most balanced, but what team was? Balance comes with time and even if their time is short, it will come to their team as well.

Unremitting anxiety forced Hyunjin back into the studio at asinine hours, unable to relieve the itch to improve and perfect his performance. The dancer wanted to achieve as close to perfection as possible by the time they stepped onto that stage, and to get there, he had to make sure they were able to make the best out of the limited time they did have to practise together. Sure, maybe more nights than he had planned for had been spent in the training rooms – but honestly, there wasn’t much of a choice. Even if he rushed after cram school to make it back to the studio, by the time Hyunjin finished practising it was often too late to make the hour-and-a-half subway commute home. It was just easier to sleep in the practice rooms and leave in the morning. The dancer was the one with the conflicting schedule, and it was his duty to make sure that during the times he was there, he had his parts mastered so the group could focus on their cohesiveness as a team, not a move or portion that he couldn’t quite get right.

Occasionally, he would wake up in the morning to see Luda quietly dancing in the studio, a comfortable peace settling between them as he got ready to leave the studio and head back to school. A small wave followed by an encouraging smile and, “Have a nice day” making most of their interaction. But it was still more than Hyunjin had had in a long time, and he liked it. There was something oddly comforting about waking up and seeing someone else awake as well.

There was one particularly memorable night when Moonbok came into the studio. In a little bit of a slump, Hyunjin was worried that he might’ve been a little too harsh in his phrasing when all he had meant was to say something comforting. But they get to practising together, and Moonbok does improve. He doesn’t think the other man is a bad dancer, he’s just missing some of the foundations – but after this, the other would certainly have the tools to continue dancing if he so pleased. Hyunjin has no doubt about that.

Hyunjin has the fewest run-ins with Jeno, but the few times they do catch each other in the practice room are enjoyable. It’s somehow relieving (and a little nuanced) to interact with another dancer. They can discuss the minute changes and differences that make or break the dance’s expression and tone; can correct and refine with ease. (A part of Hyunjin hopes they can maintain contact in the future, he’s sure he could learn a lot from the other boy).

After some deliberation they had decided on Myname’s Before the Dawn. The dance, while not terribly difficult in technicalities, emphasized in-sync movement with a ‘key move’ to top it off. In addition, the individual parts were also spread relatively equal in relation to the positions on their team. That wasn’t to say that any one of them could have pulled off their own parts with ease. Each of them required a bit of pushing to make it, but Hyunjin didn’t think it was impossible to do so. In fact, a part of him reveled in the challenge.

Reviewing the song, Hyunjin had asked for Kim Seyong’s part. While he wasn’t as good a rapper as Moonbok, the part left the rapper centre-stage for the dance break and Hyunjin was confident enough in his dance abilities to want to tackle this part. It also left him centre-stage for their key move, a scorpion-like movement. The result was a picture of refined elegance that reeked of power and physical control, swallowing the physical exertion and aspiring to replace it with effortless ease. Incidentally, Kim Seyong’s part also left Hyunjin centre stage for the ending of the song, responsible for closing their performance with a bang.

Never before had Hyunjin taken on this level of responsibility, but he was determined to deliver the best performance he could – leaving no room for regrets.

．．．☆　☽

When it comes to Hyunjin’s introduction, he doesn’t hesitate to start signing along as he speaks, hands just as enthusiastic as the wide smile on his lips, “Hello everyone, I am Dream’s Hwang Hyunjin. We all worked really hard to bring a stage with no regrets that you’ll enjoy, so please anticipate it!”

After a week of being trapped in his own head, once Hyunjin gets into position and the music begins, his mind goes blissfully blank. A blank that he’s been yearning for even in his dreams. Hyunjin takes a step back and let’s his body work on autopilot, carrying him across the stage using a template etched into his skin and muscles. Nothing about academics. No bouts of anxiety trying to creep up his throat. No self-doubt trying to dismantle his performance before its even properly begin. It’s just him and his body, reduced to the familiar physicality that Hyunjin has always spoken.

Without knowing, I step on your shadow I’m probably gradually getting crazier (Because I listen to my heart beat one by one) To my eyes that sees everything to be dark, You’re the only one that shines brightly (Because I listen to my heart heart heart)

Entering centre-stage, even Hyunjin’s mouth is working from muscle memory, enunciating each of the words as if he still had a pen in his mouth.

In the next moment he’s turning until his stomach is pressed against the floor. Hands face forward on the flat of the ground as his back leg kicks back, creating the ‘tail’ of the ‘scorpion’ before his body rights itself. At the back of his mind, Hyunjin is keenly aware of the others around him during this moment – pride slipping down his spine as he finds each of his teammates had completed the move successfully. Even Moonbok. As much as the dancer would like to smile in this moment, he keeps himself collected, face showing nothing but clean-cut confidence and charisma as their performance continues.

I’ll hold on tightly so you can’t leave I’ll grab onto you so I won’t have to cry No matter how many times you throw me away, Or how much you prevent it, I’m never going to let you go

They’re coming to the last stretch, and Hyunjin makes his way up centre-stage as he raps, moving up one beat at a time until he ends. Centre-stage and panting and so exceedingly euphoric he can’t help but crack a smile.

They did it.