Why hadn't you gone with digital?
The ticking manifested itself into your ears, boldly attempting to mingle alongside the quickening pace of your heart. The ticking joined your breathing, a cacophony of sounds really upping the ante as you tried your best to hold still.
A glance to your left and a woman is clearly composed. A glance to your right and a man is gingerly relaxing into his chair. It's so much different with you.
Your leg hasn't stopped bouncing. It kept moving. Your thigh touched the seat of the warm steel as an impatient child would. No one looked your way, but you still felt as if eyes were on you. Judging you. Studying you. Knowing they were better. Pushing every individual thought aside, you inhaled a deep breath between your parting lips. Your eyes shut closed as your focus narrowed down to one sound in particular: the ticking. The analog hands on your wrist never sped up, but it really felt like they did. It put you on edge to where you gripped the sides of your chair so tightly your knuckles turned white. On top of that, your feet throbbed in your dance shoes from the practicing you did the night before. You couldn't have helped it. Did they really expect you to rest when the stakes were higher than they ever were?
You had nothing to lose and everything to gain. Well… perhaps a bit of your pride would wither away into obscurity if they rejected you, but dwelling on that part would heighten the anxiety already coursing through your veins. The others had already gone, probably adding to why they seemed so laid back. They nailed it, you could see it in the way he folded his arms in confidence and how she looked at her nails with a certain swagger. The man lifted his head to glance towards you, a sly chuckle coming from his lips before he shook his head. He gestured his hands in a universal motion of "calm down." How on Earth could you do that?
Out of thousands of videos, one hundred of them were chosen. Out of thousands of dancers and singers, you had been one of the lucky hundred. Buckets of sweat went into the video itself, nonstop practice being added to ensure every step had purpose and authority. You were so shocked you memorized the email word for word after reading it over two hundred times. Disbelief flooded your system, then. Flying out to South Korea, training yet again for the next step put a hassle on your body, but you didn't see giving up as an option considering what had been on the line. So, you sang your heart out. Knowing both English and Korean helped much in that department. When seventy-five went through, you danced until you collapsed when you got back to your hotel room. Again, they chose you and forty-nine others. Fifty people competed in song. Of those fifty, twenty-five made it. And finally, of those twenty-five who tried to outbest each other in dance (it was heartbreaking to watch several ankles snap, your eyes unable to watch the sight of an opportunity coming to a screeching halt) you were among the final three. Except this time, no one would watch. Not the man. Not the woman. No other spectators would view in besides the judge panel to impress. This was all you. Your moment to shine came down to the countless hours spent moving in front of a mirror to a beat only provided by the organ in your chest and a voice that refused to be silenced even when you thought it would give out suddenly on a high note you assumed barely grazed the surface of perfection.
"Y/N?" Said a voice, a heavy accent filtering through. You looked up from your hands you had stared at for moments too long. With a smile of reassurance, the woman with her hair up clacked her heels along the clean floor. She pivoted, the sway of her skirt almost disc like to show she wanted you to follow.
And you did.
Rising nervously from your chair, the noises became louder, chatter from the other competitors now behind you echoing. You knew what they said. They'd been nice, but they knew what you lacked. Confidence didn't come as easy to you as it did for them. It etched itself on your facial structure, a failed portrait that could hang in no museum. The harshness of reality set in and you almost turned around. You almost walked back to the seat. You almost went back to grab your stuff and then leave the building. You almost left without even taking the chance…
But you were almost there.
The doors came open, the professional holding one for you to enter. Stepping through, your eyes scanned the familiar studio. The dance room had been bigger than the small one you had loved back home so it did provide intimidation. You'd only performed in it four times, but there'd been a lot of people in those four times. The lack of competitors made it seem so empty. Your eyes landed on the long table at the back of the room, three males seated there. Seijin sat at the center, a warm smile coming to his lips. You bowed upon seeing this, things slowing down for a second since it displayed comfort rather than a stimulant of anxiety. Regaining your usual posture, no words had to be said. You knew what had been expected already. Besides, you had nothing at the tip of your tongue.
Inhaling a deep breath to where your lungs filled to full capacity, you adjusted the headset and made sure things were functioning properly. It would have been embarrassing if the headset had been on in the room you waited in. Anyone hearing your sounds of nervousness would probably laugh. Or so that's the kind of mentality you had. Bringing your hands down, you froze for a moment. You saw a look of worry cross the manager's face. You didn't even realize him whisper to someone at the side of him about how faces aren't supposed to turn blue. Not when seven very familiar members walked into the room, taking places in extra seats behind the three men.
It was Jin who said "breathe" aloud and that snapped you back into where you were. You exhaled the breath you hadn't noticed you were holding in the entire time. If you thought you had pressure on your shoulders now, you didn't know how to comprehend sharing the same space with the group you were supposed to be competing to join. Straightening out, you looked from eye to eye, all men having their expressions try to display at least some kind of encouragement. Still, they'd been reacting to this differently. Suga had been stoic, Jungkook's mouth slightly open in worry that you might forget to breathe again, RM flashed his dimples as his lips went into a thin line, Jimin's hands clasped together softly in front of him as he tried to send good energy, Jin watched calmly with his own grain of worry settling in, V's smile had tried to push you to be alright, and J-Hope had a half smile as well as a nod that you would be okay. It all had been too much.
Turning on your heel, you approached the door, your footsteps loudly touching the floor. You weren't stomping, but no one had uttered a word. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, reaching the door's handle. Wrapping your fingers around it, you heard the sound of chairs scooting backwards. And that's when you felt eyes on you. Eyes on your back.
No, this was your almost.
Stepping away from the door, you retook your position at the middle of the dance floor. Touching the mic, you tapped onto it. The familiar boom from the speakers came and it signaled your connection. Looking down at your watch, you checked the time. 2:58 PM. You had four minutes to impress. Four minutes to sing. Four minutes to dance. Four minutes to do both simultaneously. You worried for a millisecond that you'd be incapable of such since you lost your breath merely standing in front of BTS, but it faded as music began to play. You narrowed your focus now, hands clasping one another behind your back as your head bowed. Looking at the floor, thoughts started to leave your mind. Instinct began to take over. This was something you'd forever be grateful for.
A loud beat hit through the room and your head raised up right on time, a smirk plastered on your face. Duality.
DNA's intro began, but a backing track followed suit. The remix had been of DNA, Not Today, Fire, Danger, Spring Day, and Blood Sweat & Tears. You alternated to the best of your abilities, most of the choreography based around DNA, but you still incorporated the other songs when you heard familiar instrumentals hitting your ears. Your voice already knew, a floating melody coming from it even when you spoke words fast for a rap, especially when it slowed down to show the softness of your voice. By no means had it been overly deep, but you made it all your own. You couldn't do all the parts perfectly, but what you implemented and decided to show gave them all a glimpse to every one of your great strengths. When it came to an end, your index finger pointed from the middle of your arm to your forearm and to your wrist, head popping up with a jolt of your body. The music came to an end, a smile on your face as a bead of sweat rolled down your right cheek from slick bangs.
Moving back into normal position, the manager crossed his arms against his chest.
"You made that?" Referring to the remix.
"... yes…" You let out, your chest heaving. He seemed to be impressed and he looked to the members who all had different demeanors. Still, silence took hold of the atmosphere.
But could you really call it silence? All that you heard was the sound of your heavy breathing into the mic, your heart thudding against your ribcage, and the ticking of your watch.
Tick. Tick.
Sleep didn't come easy. You woke in an hour and then went back to sleep only to wake two more later. You had been under the impression that this part would be the least anxiety inducing, but waiting had really done a number on you. Either they could reject you or they could accept you. Considering how you almost passed out, walked out, and used a mash of songs rather than one, you really saw the most logical choice as the former. Pacing back and forth, your socks rubbed ferverently at the carpet floor. When the phone rang, it gave you an immediate shock and you dropped it.
Cursing yourself, you bent down to get it, shoulders slumping when a voice told you to come back to the studio. This was it. They were going to do this part face to face and it was going to be crushing. Sliding on a jacket after changing clothes, you made your way over. The ride seemed agonizing, but when you got there, you almost didn't want to get out of the vehicle. Your stomach grumbled since you skipped out on breakfast to make the trip. It was a bad idea on your part since your head started hurting as you stepped out. Going through the doors, you tried to keep your gaze forward. Too many thoughts were filling your mind and you didn't know how to handle it. They wouldn't leave you alone no matter how much you tried to ignore it. When you reached the room, your hands found comfort in the confines of your jacket's pockets, sneakers squeaking at every other step towards the center of the room. Looking at your reflection, you cringed slightly at the bags you saw under your eyes. The opaqueness had really decided to make itself prominent, huh?
Your attention was caught by Seijin who greeted you warmly.
"I thought this would be better to do face to face." Your heart sunk. Your face must've too because he shook his head and dismissed your thoughts with a wave of his hands. "No, no, no," he continued.
"It's not that. Really. We saw a lot of impressive videos and we had to pick from all the talent. There was a lot. Going with one hundred already seemed like too much. Originally, we wanted to start at fifty. Anyways, we did get eventually to that, correct? Throughout this entire thing, you have been more than impressive." At that, you did smile. But maybe he was just softening the blow. "We noticed everything. You're a very hard worker, aren't you? But you overthink quite a bit. I've seen it across the board and often times it can get to the point of where a performer can't control themselves, but you somehow manage to do even that. You sang like an angel in the first round, danced like you were born for it in the second, sang with emotion for the third, and then danced with all you were for the fourth. Yesterday, it was different than those times."
Chewing on your lip, you prepared yourself for some bad news. No one else had been in the room. What else could this be?
"We already know you can sing. We already know you can dance. We anticipated that you can do both simultaneously just as we did with the young man and the young woman you were in the final round against. The surprise came when you showed you could do more." You felt goosebumps forming into the skin of your arms as you blinked up at Seijin. "You get nervous just as any other person does, but you are also confident. Not in the sense of walking in here as if you know it, but in the sense of letting yourself get lost in the music. When you dance, you feel it. When you sing, you believe every word. You put together these songs and you went above and beyond to show creativity. You didn't just do dances we've already seen and created, but you made something yours. The other two were fantastic. They were great. But they lacked a bit of their own roots. We weren't looking for a group member, we were looking for a unique addition to a family of very different personalities. You fit that in more ways than one."
Excitement began to thrill you and you couldn't help but to jump from one foot to the other. In all honesty, you wanted to scream. You kept gasping, hands coming up to your mouth so you could stop intaking air.
"Y/N, welcome to Bangtan." This time, you did scream. And you did jump. Despite yourself, you hugged him and kept thanking him.
This was the beginning of a dream come true.
