시작이 반이다

WHAT DID YOU THINK OF THE RESULTS LAST WEEK?

         he stares,  head tilting slightly before he answers.  “the judges made their decisions,  i suppose we’ll all have to respect that.  i just think it’s unfortunate they let go of my partner last round,  SONG YUQI.  i thought she did very well,  complimented me well,  frankly  --  but it’s all been rather unfortunate.”  his words are dry,  and he doesn’t censor himself as much as he might usually  --  he’s tired already.  “but then again,  i guess they have to eliminate someone,  don’t they?  i can respect that.”  whether i like it or not.

WHAT WAS IT LIKE WORKING WITH YOUR NEW DUO?  DID YOU FEEL THE PRESSURE?

        he raises a brow,  leaning back in his seat.  he surrenders a nod,  “YOON JEONGHAN is great,  very talented.  was sad to see him and PARK JINYOUNG apart of the eliminated few last week,  but i think the judges will have a tough decision to make this week,  and by that,  i mean that in regards to the six of us,  if i can be transparent.  i enjoyed all our performances,  but of course there can only be one.”  

DO YOU THINK YOU’LL BE CHOSEN TO RETURN?

        he bites down on the inside of his mouth,  following with tongue in cheek,  before he laughs softly.  “that’s the dream,  isn’t it?  i think jeonghan hyung and i did our best,  our fate rests in the hands of the big bosses now.”

HOW DOES IT FEEL BEING THE FIRST TO BE ELIMINATED FROM EMPTY ENIGMA?

        that question has him pause,  and his expression crosses into the realm of stricken for just a brief moment,  but he’s sure the camera must of caught it  --  anything for a bit of tension,  they’d milk it all,  wouldn’t they?   he purses his lips,  but manages to generate a smile after a contemplative pause regardless.  “rough.  but there has to be a first eventually,  doesn’t there? and if we’re being frank,  i’m glad it was me in the long run.  the others have so much to show,  and as long as i can support them,  i will preach contentment.”  the but is on the tip of his tongue,  and he concedes after a moment,  “... but it’d be nice if i could walk down that road with them,  at least for a little longer?”

I’M SURE YOU’VE HEARD THE VARIOUS COMMENTS MADE ABOUT EMPTY ENIGMA  --  ANY THOUGHTS?      

oh,  he thinks a little after the decision is out in the air,  when the judges have already moved onto discussing the next stage and the air grows suffocating as realization settles in slowly.  he stares ahead,  unflinching,  and clenches his fists in his lap.  the sheet of iron ever present over his expression remains long after recording is done and when he’s finally on his way home with the others.

oh.  

the glimmer of hope the eliminated contestants are given after the fact does very little to calm the conclusion he’s reached from the moment his name is called  --  not good enough.  huh.

surprising how much it hurts,  a phantom pain in his chest that aches when he gives his friends a smile and reassures them he’d expected the result.  it’s not a lie per se,  really isn’t,  except perhaps he’s been fooling himself since the beginning,  clutching onto a thread of hope and praying to a god he’s not sure is out there when his mind is unusually blank and the pressure grows.  the little mercies come with the idea everyone else survived,  empty enigma will go on even if he failed here,  they didn’t fall the way he did.

the shot of redemption should be enlightening  --  instead it’s cold and he wonders what he’s even doing here anymore.  

he can’t bring himself to look at yuqi after the decision is spoken into the void,  doesn’t want to face how he’s failed her.  the judges’ comments are right to point out how she was top three the previous week but now on the verge of going home.  he wonders what he could’ve improved  --  was it too boring?  did he not express himself enough?  

no matter.

he doesn’t let himself fret on it too long,  instead his attention falling upon reassuring his friends he’s okay,  he’s always okay.  hwang minhyun doesn’t wear sadness well,  has learned to conceal growing up in the environment that he did,  and so he hugs daniel back and allows a quiet sigh of disappointment to fall from his lips as he pats the other’s back.  

“i’ll do my best to make you proud,”  he says generally to the whole group,  summoning something resembling a hopeful smile.  “wait for me,  i’ll be back.”  it’s like a plea,  let me be good enough, he whispers unconsciously into the air,  paired with let them make it through another round,  they deserve it.  

the presence of cameras still weighs heavy on his presence,  and so he offers woojin only the most pleasant smile he can,  and promises they’ll discuss it further when they’re home,  doesn’t dare look at kenta for too long,  much less know what he can say to sungwoon.  the idea he can prolong the discussion a little longer is a small relief,  but minhyun embraces it nevertheless.

his new partner,  however,  is a sense of entertainment to a certain degree.  a little funny considering how it seems jeonghan and daniel have some bad blood,  though he’s not entirely aware of the extent,  nor how far his partner’s distaste for his friend went,  if he could be considered guilty by association.  

their initial meeting is one begun with raised brows and unwavering stares.  jeonghan quickly earns his respect,  and minhyun can’t deny he doesn’t know the other well enough to justify much less.  the partnership is an experience he’ll look back on in the future,  wry and accompanied by a calmness up until game day.

they rehearse in a practice room courtesy of jeonghan’s student status at k-arts,  and the rising bitterness crawls up his throat and settle upon his lips that curl back into a wry but unsettled attempt at a smile as he stares around the campus,  the room,  everything he realizes could’ve been him.  he could’ve been a student here if he’d accepted the offer,  could’ve continued pursing music with a renowned passion instead of settling for less.

the idea stays with him as he and jeonghan go through the selected track,  something that tugs at the heartstrings and begs one to look upon their past and felt on a heartbreak that left its scars.  they listen once,  twice,  three times before minhyun truly feels they made the right decision.  he’s come to doubt his own preferences,  and a part of him wondered if the judges would express their disappointment once more,  if he’d have to sit there through it all and then meet his bandmates and tell them that no,  i wasn’t good enough for them.

his lack of confidence is almost sickening,  a sensation that weighs him down as he stares at himself in the reflection of the door before making it inside and going towards the destination the eliminated trainees had been summoned.  he feels like he’s cattle on a farm,  ushered to the will of people given much power and affluence.  he wonders when he let it all come down to this.

he thinks of the odd tension in the share-house,  half-pretending he’s okay,  half-motivated to just do better,  tip-toeing around the others and feeling more or less the same back from the majority.  things have always been tender and delicate between him and kenta,  though he’s yet to acknowledge it,  to do anything to address the neglected elephant in the room.  he falls back on normalcy to remain sane,  and spends his free time simply practicing.  

there’s an encounter with suwoong that does much to cheer minhyun’s spirits,  the other coming over with chicken and drinks,  and despite the polar opposites the two remained in personality,  minhyun comes out of the night a refreshed person,  lighter even.  it helps that he too feels like he might’ve helped the other in any way,  even if it were with mediocre advice and a simple ear lent with the promise to listen,  but his soft spot for the friend remains secure,  even as he waves him off later casually,  and reminds him  --  chill.

he should really take his own advice.

daniel and sungwoon are easier to be around,  though also harder in little ways.  they’re more known,  walking incarnations of the confidence and talent he strives to reach,  but the slightly pathetic feelings do little to shelter the proudness he can’t deny.  he meets woojin’s eyes too many times to count,  the other remaining mute despite his initial attempt to communicate with him when the results were first aired.  for a moment,  he wonders if the other had been disappointed in him too  --  at least until the final moment.  when woojin wishes him a good luck,  minhyun reaches out and pinches his cheek gently,  a move done in affection,  and returns the sentiment.

he has great friends,  and for that,  he is thankful.

the room feels more empty this time,  with just the six trainees and those monitoring them with critical gazes already inclined towards the thought they’d failed this competition once.  if this is his end,  so be it  --  it’ll make a lasting expression for time to come.  he wonders for a moment,  while looking over at the other pairs,  if he should’ve texted yuqi best wishes,  but holds the regret to fester later.

jeonghan and him are the first pair to be called up,  a chill travelling down his spine as he stands and looks to his partner.  “i believe in us,”  he says,  giving himself a second to compose his own thoughts yet failing back on something overwhelmingly cheesy regardless.  the ends of his lips rise into something genuine,  and following the other’s words,  he nods,  “let’s do this.”

they have utilized stools as part of the performance,  perched away from each other and delivering different messages of a collective whole.  introductions out of the way,  minhyun simply offers his name and a promise to showcase their best.  the song is doused in the idea of heartbreak,  and as minhyun sits there,  the instrumental opening to the track beginning to set the tone,  he feels it reflect upon his own heart.  he closes his eyes and begins his verse.

i'm fine but suddenly you break into my thoughts. whenever it is, i part with you again

jeonghan joins him at the end,  and their voices mingle together to create what he deems a powerful harmony of emotion.  then,  comes his own lines,  solo and channeling the necessary feelings he wanted to convey.

how can i love again after meeting someone else?

jeonghan takes over,  and minhyun nods slowly,  awaiting his cue to join back in.  it was easy to get lost in the way jeonghan sang,  full of emotion and delivered with the talent of someone who was confident in his own skills  --  he feels fortunate with his duo partnership.

one day, when I meet you, i will tell you my story how painful and hard it was for me

there are scattered high notes exchanged through the song,  switching between him and jeonghan,  challenging him in way he hasn’t been particularly challenged before.  the slightly desperate last chance perhaps sings through in the way the duo perform,  giving it their all and searching for a validation they shouldn’t want to this degree,  a necessity in this industry.  he can’t speak for jeonghan,  but minhyun’s quest for approval taunts him day in and out,  and here he stands once more,  yearning.  

at that time, take those awkward love and memories. i want you to be hard as i am go away

he puts his all into delivering the notes as perfectly as one such as him can,  matched evenly with jeonghan’s passion.  the music quiets down,  and minhyun straightens as he readies himself,  eyes shining as the end approaches.  no matter the results,  he tells himself he can only plea acceptance,  no lingering self-doubt.

how can i love again, after meeting someone else?

his voice starts softer,  eyes closed once more,  slowly building into the high note,  an octaves higher than he was used to performing since his musical production days,  but he follows through the best he can.  he continues his part of vocalization as jeonghan sings through his verse,  and although he may not have eyes on the other,  he’d go as far as to say he can feel him,  through his voice,  through the connection they’d made in the past week.

we were beautiful

his voice grows gentler,  both hands coming up to clutch the mic as he works through the note.  then comes the finale  --  sweet and twinged with a bittersweet end.

now goodbye

WHAT DID YOU THINK OF THE RESULTS LAST WEEK?

         he offers a tiny shrug.  “i wasn’t necessarily attached to any of them,  so i don’t have strong feelings towards the results?  of course,  i’m glad i survived the round and so did my friends,  and i’d like to get to know the other contestants more,  but it is what it is.  however,  concerning eliminations,  hmm . . .”  he taps his fingers on his knee as he thinks.  “i think BAE JOOHYUN’s fate was disappointing for many,  but perhaps a relief for those that saw her as competition.  hoping the best for those that have left the show though,  they did what they could.”  

        “moving on to top picks,  i think CHOI MINHO was an obvious choice,  fact of the matter is he’s talented,  we all know it.  i’ve worked with SONG YUQI now and i see quite a bit of potential in her,  which can serve as fulfilling the criteria for the top three position she was given.  and then we have a different top three contestant,  LEE SUWOONG,”  here he lets a smile slip past as he rubs his chin to look further in thought,  “i’m a little biased,  i’ll admit,  but i’m positive anyone can see he’s deserving of it.  he’s always been talented and as his friend,  it feels satisfying seeing him being recognized for it,  and the . . . entertainment he’s sure to provide the audience.  other than that?  i have no thoughts.”  he leans back in his seat,  taking a breather.

WELL,  THEN RIDDLE US THIS  --  WHAT WAS IT LIKE WORKING WITH YOUR DUO?

        “i had fun,”  he admits,  after a moment of contemplative silence.  “i wasn’t sure what to expect when the names were called,  but the experience was  --  would it be haughty of me to say  easy ?  we got along well,  and i think it translates well in our performance.  yuqi reminds me of my little sister actually,”  tone turning a little sheepish,  “i’ll be cheering her on for the indefinite future. you can count on me,  yuqi,”  he says to the camera with a thumbs up,  ignoring the flare of embarrassment rising inside him at the fact this probably wouldn’t even be aired.  whatever.

AND HOW DO YOU THINK YOU DID THIS WEEK?

        he makes a few hand gestures,  searching for the right words for how he was feeling.  “alright?  i could’ve done better,  shown more of myself maybe,  and i have some regrets looking back,  but overall?  i’m also content with what my partner and i did put together,  and it was nice being able to play on stage and show a part of me many haven’t seen.”

TELL US,  WHICH PERFORMANCES DID YOU LIKE BEST?  

        “well  --  PARK WOOJIN and ZHOU JIEQIONG’s  was quite charming to see,  cute even.”  a flicker of amusement illuminates his expression,  before he hums in thought.   “as well as the MIYAWAKI SAKURA and SHIN RYUJIN duo, oh!  and  JUNG EUNJI and KIM JUNGEUN --  i found myself moving along to the beat while watching them perform.  though,  the same could apply for YOON JEONGHAN and PARK JINYOUNG . . .”  he takes a deep sigh then,  pouting slightly despite his usual levels of composure.  “it’s hard  --  everyone’s good and only getting better.”

IS THERE ANYONE YOU’RE CERTAIN WILL MOVE ONTO THE NEXT PHASE OF THE MGAs?

        “i’d like to say any of the duos i mentioned liking best earlier,  but perhaps i’m inclined towards CHOI MINHO and LEE NAKYUNG,  KANG DANIEL and JEON HEEJIN,  and hmmm . . .  LEE SUWOONG and WONG YUKHEI?  haha,  just some guesses!  we’ll have to see.”

IS THERE ANYONE YOU’RE SURE WILL BE ELIMINATED TODAY?

          surviving eliminations feels wrong,  no matter how hard he works building up for the day,  how much effort and will goes into making it past another round;  his thoughts are inevitably pessimistic in nature.  by the time they start calling out the names that will go home,  his heart leaps into his throat,  fists clenched in his lap,  nails digging into the skin  --  he expects it.

         and it never comes.

         could one call something like this, perhaps arbitrary in the long run,  survivor’s guilt?  relief,  however,  is like a high he can’t shake,  and he sits there for a while trying to process it.  he might not find his luck abundant enough to keep going,  but it feels strange for circumstances to acknowledge how hard he’s working,  how often the voice deep inside him tells him to summon the courage to believe in himself.

         once they begin calling the duos,  minhyun finds he doesn’t necessary know his partner,  gaze curious as he looks in her direction.  she seems nice enough,  though his attention falls more towards the guidelines of the round  --  both of them,  or none at all. 

         he should’ve expected that,  he tells himself later,  bitterly amused. 

         he spares a few thoughts doused with worriment towards how the partnership might go,  if it’ll be as smooth as he wills it to be.  he may be easy to please,  but he’s also more of a  avoid-conflict-if-possible type,  finding it rather exhausting to deal with.  however,  a few moments in,  he’s quickly reassured on his own,  yuqi being someone easy to agree with,  and eager to work.

         the song choice is proposed by his partner,  and he’s fairly quick to fall into agreement.  the song is catchy and he can see both of them succeeding in pulling off the performance but he can’t help but wonder if it’ll be enough.  will it leave enough of an impact?  will they pass with just this?

         as a result,  rearrangement feels like the best route in the long run,  the decision to rely on acoustics falling back on a voice that whispers its selfish desire at the back of his mind  --  do it to bring attention to yourself,  do it so it looks like you attempted to put some effort into the whole thing,  do it because you can.

         somewhere along the line,  it shifts into having fun and doing his best to support yuqi than it is about himself.  yeah,  he wants to survive so bad he can almost taste it,  but he knows victory is often bittersweet unless it comes with that satisfaction you performed and had fun with the people you’re with  --  he learns that best with empty enigma. 

         it helps that yuqi’s talented and outgoing from the get-go,  that minhyun doesn’t entirely have a chance to be as awkward as he’d been fearing.  her energy and enthusiasm is contagious,  and it reminds him of his own little sister,  the one he’s most protective of in the world.  so,  maybe it’s a cliche,  but he rolls with it and hopes the cameras can also pick up on the chemistry they build as they work on the song,  hopes it translates into the performance itself. 

         his main objective,  however,  is making sure he has the right chords down.  it’s the beginning that takes him some time to get down and lots of practice.  he starts,  stops,  repeats until he’s sure he could play the song as fluently as possible in his sleep,  keeps his guitar on him when he crawls into bed and eyes the ceiling as he strums to a beat in his mind,  often recognizing it to be the very song they’ve been obsessively practicing throughout the week. 

         but,  the very core of minhyun’s being has yet to change even though he’s been on stage for as long as he can remember,  has returned to it some time ago since reign was conceived from the ashes of his past failures,  even when considering the performances he’s done on the mgas alone.  taking all that into account and more,  one still can’t deny the common factor each week;  he’s so nervous he almost keeps forgetting to breathe. 

         he wonders if it’ll ever get easier. 

         he texts yuqi a  “we’ll do great”  the night before,  tacking a smiley face at the end and wills himself to believe his own words.  he believes they’ve done all they can,  have practiced until they could drop,  and he knows the song as well as he knows himself;  tells himself over and over,  chanting as if the words were a mantra of their assured victory.  (  victory,  the confidence the word upholds shakes him to the brink of his existence,  but minhyun’s always been good at pretending.  )

         he lugs his guitar around on his back,  secured in his case.  it’s almost a reassuring weight,  having something so familiar close to him,  bringing comfort as he thinks instead about how this instrument brought him and his mother closer,  occasional memories with his father as he sat on his lap as a small child and watched the other play with wonderment present in his gaze.  it feels like he himself has been playing for a lifetime now,  and the idea settles him  --  he can do this,  he knows he can,  and he can do it well.

         “you ready?”  various individuals ask throughout the week  --  he wills himself not to retort with how he’s sure his lifespan decreases by a couple years each time he’s asked,  instead just shrugs slightly and offers an  as ready as i’ll ever be.

         new week,  same old routine.

         he pays more attention this round,  racks his mind for each contestants’ name as they go up two by two,  and each one leaving a chilling feeling in his bones.  he doesn’t even know what his friends are doing this round,  more focused on getting through his own performance,  added with the fact he’s too often lost in his thoughts,  timing passing all to quickly.  if he didn’t already know it before,  he’s too aware of the fact everyone’s good,  of course they are considering it’s already episode three into the broadcasting,  but he wonders if it’s a mistake,  him making it this far.

         a few minutes before his performance,  and he’s starting to question his spot on the show  --  how typical.   

         sungwoon goes up shortly,  with his partner,  and before he knows it,  he and yuqi are called up.  he shoots her what he hopes is a reassuring smile,  and grips his guitar on the way up,  nodding pleasantly through the introduction.  his mind blanks and he feels he more or less floats his way to his seat on stage,  propping his guitar onto his knee,  before taking a breath.

         it’s a moment before he starts,  his fingers ghosting above the right chords,  letting his mind come into focus.  then,  he begins,  starting position staring at his fingers move as he waits for yuqi to start off the song with her voice.  then,  he lifts his head towards the audience and judges as he starts off his verse.

쓸모 없어지면 버려 몰래 문득 어렴풋이라도 기억될 수만 있다면 나 everything i do it for you i’m a toy, toy

         the acoustic version feels more sentimental in a way,  led by the emotion they try to channel into the song,  however there’s a casual attempt towards keeping it upbeat,  with the way their voices plan to rise,  with how they sway their heads and bounce a little to the beat.  his vision of the song is one filled with a certain longing,  to be one’s even if they don’t necessary hold you to the same degree. 

얼마 안 돼 구석에 놓이겠지만 이 운명은 네 소유인 걸

         to put it simply,  minhyun simply channels what he feels when he hears the song.  a degree of nostalgia as he thinks about on failed relationships,  often on the end of being broken up with,  or even more generally.  extending it to the sometimes overwhelming needs to feel like someone’s number one  --  it can be a difficult feat to achieve,  and with a pang of unwarranted loneliness,  minhyun allows his voice to grow louder as the chorus approaches,  intent in showing off a more powerful message for the middle part. 

난 너에게 더 이상 바랄게 없어 나로 인해 채워지는 널 본다면 꺼내줄 수 있어 다 가져가 주겠니 사랑이 장난이면 가차 없이 날 이용해

         he works various emotions into his expression,  eyes closing as he prolongs a note,  the corner of his lips rising here and then as he tries to play the persona the original vocalists had channeled when performing the part.  then comes their shared lines,  and minhyun looks to his partner,  sharing a small smile of comfort as they communicate with their eyes.

now you know, all you need is me i’m your toy, i’m your toy, i‘m your toy

         here comes yuqi’s solo part,  and minhyun nods along as he plays,  portraying the image of a man invested in the performance he’s in the middle of,  fingers moving almost on their own.  he’s sure she’ll go far,  filled with talent and hungry to show it  --  for a minute,  he hopes he won’t be the one holding them back in the moment.

난 너에게 더 이상 바랄게 없어 나로 인해 채워지는 널 본다면 꺼내줄 수 있어 다 가져가 주겠니 사랑이 장난이면 가차 없이 날 이용해

now you know, all you need is me i’m your toy, i’m your toy, i‘m your toy

what did you think of the results last week?

      “shock,  maybe?”  he scratches his cheek whilst in thought,  chuckle on his lips.  “my friends made it through,  and that’s what mattered most to me,  though i held much belief in them till the end.  i think their talent shines through in the best of the ways,  and all their performances to date have only emphasized that.”  a pointed glance in his direction puts him into thought and he realizes he failed to talk about the one person they were probably most curious about in the moment  --  himself.  “though i was satisfied with what i showed,  i can’t deny i wasn’t a little surprised when they called my name,  nevertheless.  pleasantly however!”

and how do you think you did today?

      “today, hmm...”  he trails off,  brows furrowing slightly as he composes his thoughts.  it’s a question he expected,  of course it is,  but he gives himself the moment anyways,  a second to showcase a humbleness he perhaps doesn’t need regardless.  he shrugs slightly,  making a ‘who knows?’ hand gesture.  “i did what i set out to do,  and that’s the best i can ask of myself,  is it not?  no matter the results,  i’m . . . proud of myself.”

what did you think of empty enigma’s performances?

      “oh god,”  he starts off with a laugh,  the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement.  where does he even begin?  “daniel’s stood out to me the most this time around  --  he took a chance and relied on the creativity that flows untethered in his veins,  and i respect that.  plus,  i think he did exactly what he set out to do,  show us he’s a man of many talents while entertaining the audience in the process.”  the pride is undoubtedly transparent,  and he moves on before the tips of his ears can flush the way they’re known to.  

      “sungwoon . . . he never disappoints,  and i’m sure everyone would agree all things considered.  woojin,  i’d also say the same for.  his dancing is inspiring,  and quite captivating to watch and i was enthralled with his performance every step of the way.”  he pauses for a moment,  in thought.  

      “kenta’s been a little more of a mystery  --  the talent is undeniable,  but seeing it on a stage like the mgas is a whole other experience.  i’m proud of him.”  he smiles,  soft but sure,  awaiting the next question as if he hadn’t just gushed about his closest friends for however long.

were there any performances you liked?  anyone else?

      “hmm...  you’re bent on making me think, huh?”  he pats his lips with one of his hands,  showing off the image of someone deep in thought.  “there’s a bunch really  --  kim jungeun,  park jinyoung,  lee suwoong,  i suppose.”  he holds back a smile at the last one,  failing to divulge into details but instead hopes he falls back on a more mysterious-vibe.  “too many to pick from really.”

is there anyone you are certain will move onto the next phase of the MGAs?

      “is it contradictory to say everyone?”  he rubs at the back of his neck as he speaks,  sheepish in tone.  “i believe in my bandmates the most  --  but i’m inclined to mention suwoong here too.  his charisma is . . . uncanny,  as i’m sure many would say,  and he can turn just about anything into an entertainment piece of work.”  the amusement shines clear in the way he sighs almost inaudibly before shaking his head slightly,  and grinning despite himself.  he’s sure the said male will never let him live it down if this gets aired,  and he’s almost ready to cross his fingers to hope for the very opposite. 

is there anyone you are certain will be eliminated today?

        what he remembers about the eliminations is not very much in retrospect  --  daniel holding his hand and grounding him entirely,  eyes peeled to the judges despite how he tells himself he’d be content with this being his first and last performance.

       an unconvincing lie,  really. ( he’ll laugh at himself later,  when he’s back home and in bed,  reflecting on the day and allowing the growing giddiness make a home in his bones ).

       sungwoon’s name is called and he takes a breath,  shooting the other a proud smile despite himself and their curious friendship  --  can’t be me,  he thinks as the next person’s name settles into the quiet of the room,  uncertainty growing.  he bites down on his bottom lip in habit,  and abides by the anticipation.  

       he almost doesn’t notice it really,  not until daniel squeezes his hand and his brain catches up to the situation does he realize  --  hwang minhyun.

       they called his name.

       from there on,  he feels he’s floating on a cloud,  tight and untethered to the very means of existence.  his heart blossoms as each of his friends’ names are called  --  daniel,  woojin,  kenta,  suwoong.  they made it.  he sits there as quiet celebrations erupt within the group  --  we made it,  he thinks,  a little dumbfounded.

       “we made it,”  he says,  out loud this time,  just audible enough to be heard.  the smile mirrors the relief and happiness tumbling inside him,  and he embraces it with a laugh as he turns to his group to join in on the cheers.

                                                                   ☆☆

       the next challenge is finding the ideal song to do.  showcasing his main skill,  it should be easy.  singing,  there’s too many songs in the world to choose from,  it shouldn’t bewilder him the way it does,  but waking up the next day after they’re home and calmed down from the high of making it past eliminations,  minhyun finds it’s everything but that.

       he settles on various different tracks in the short time,  but the more he practices,  the more they all feel entirely wrong.  perhaps he’s thinking too much of the whole process,  but with so many people gone right off the bat,  it feels like pressure is a ghost that has settled onto his back,  a dead weight that he can’t seem to shake off.

       he may say he doesn’t fear elimination,  but he’s reluctant to admit how wrong the train of thought is in all actuality.  as empty enigma makes it past hurdle one,  maybe the truth is something he hasn’t focused on fleshing out much.   an insecurity that festers beneath the surface as he watches people go on with their lives --  

       he fears being left behind.  

       the idea haunts for a while,  at the prospect of being the first to be eliminated from a group so much more talented and skilled than he finds himself being at the moment,  worn down by insecurities and out of practice.  it’s not that he entirely undervalues the talent he’s aware he’s flourished over the years,  but he can’t entirely explain the way his nerves bristle at his attempts at confidence as he practices.  more times than not,  frustration claims his moves and he doubts his reasons for going on.

       he’d made his choice once high school graduation rounded the corner,  turning down k-arts to instead pursue something practical and mundane as accounting.  he is lacking because of his own accords,  he only has himself to blame.  he’d made his choice,  he’d been content.  

       at least until he met empty enigma.  

       there,  he finds passion and music entangled within a love affair he can’t phrase adequately,  the way it set fire to his contentment and has him yearning for a path he’d long since turned his back on.  it’s almost embarrassing how much he misses it,  being on stage and the art of performing itself,  how the high sings in his veins as he would push away his meek tendencies to act as a character,  to be an entertainer.

       after some time,  minhyun finally comes to accept that maybe he’s never really bid farewell to that dream.  maybe it lingers in places he hasn’t wanted to acknowledge.

       it takes time to come to the conclusion,  but joining the mgas with his friends by his side leads to an enlightenment he’d been avoiding facing.  maybe all those people that told him he was making a mistake when he set down roots in practicality over aspirations had been right all along,  an idea that flushes him to his very core with humiliation.  instead,  he ignores focusing on it for too long and instead chooses to sing.  

       mostly for his own sanity,  thoughts all in a mess.

       he finds his pick accidentally,  mindlessly singing along to the track as he tries reading a new bestseller he’d picked up,  less focused on the words and more zoning out as he stares out the window.  the random youtube playlist plays out in the background,  and the current song is one he’s played time and time again since it’s release,  finding a kinship in the lyrics from first listen.

       minhyun takes a breath as he plays the song from the beginning,  and then lets the lyrics wash over him like a wave composed of loneliness and loss.  he’d been settled on doing a more emotional song from the start,  and that’s when he realizes he’s found the perfect pick.

                                                                    ☆☆

       his mother calls him the morning of d-day.  he doesn’t pick up immediately,  stares at the caller id,  how her contact photo smiles at him,  and after a few rings,  he swipes to finally answer.  

       “you did good,”  she tells him,  after pleasantries have been exchanged and there’s a lull in conversation.  he hasn’t spoken to his family much since making the decision to go onto the mgas,  aside from a brief conversation with his sister after episode one aired to the surprise of all hwangs,  and jungwoo’s words of encouragement.  then again,  he doesn’t interact with his parents much lately,  outside of monthly dinners derived out of an obligation to the couple that birthed him,  a distance formed out of his own accord.  

       he wonders how they’d found out he was participating,  whether his sister spilt the beans or if someone had called them to inquire about their son’s decision to venture into the industry,  upon a survival show of all things.  or,  he wonders briefly,  had they simply tuned in to watch and saw him appear on the screen unexpectedly.  the latter seems like a joke almost,  but considering his mother’s constant interest in where the korean entertainment industry’s headed,  he doesn’t discredit the thought entirely.

       family is hard work,  and emotion squeezes his heart at her words.  he takes a moment to compose his thoughts,  before allowing the smile to shine through in his tone.  “i can do better.” a hint of unearthed cockiness sits in his voice,  and his mother chuckles then,  humour transparent.  it’s a confidence she is far too familiar with,  passed onto him from her,  his role model growing up.

       “do us proud,  baby.”  he’ll never forget the love and adoration his mother was sure to give him as he grew,  the reason he wanted to pursue acting till he graduated and eventually gave up on his aspiration.  he wanted to be as strong and independent as she had been  --  instead,  his nerves won that battle.

       not this time,  he tells himself,  eyes planted on his own reflection as he readies himself for the day.  never again.

                                                                   ☆☆

       it feels right entering the venue with his bandmates by his side,  and he wonders how many more times he’ll be allowed the privilege.  he’d woken up with the simple thought of performing his best,  whatever that would be,  and refuse to let arbitrary worries plague him as his mind slowly whirs to a start.

       easier said than done,  and his thoughts begin with a faux confidence,  ostensibly building into matters of lingering regret towards things he could’ve perfected before the day arrived.

       his song choice is perhaps a sad one,  but he finds confidence in the prospect of invoking an emotional enough response in the audience,  a plea for them to hear his heart’s call.  how bold of him,  to assume at his twenty one years of life he could understand the true meaning of heartbreak and anguish  --  he’s sure his maternal grandfather would laugh in his face if he mentioned it today,  if the other had still been alive to see him go through the process he was today.

       if only.

       as always it seems,  he zones out once they actually get to their seats,  time quickly closing in.  he taps his foot impatiently on the ground once he’s seated,  instead looking for familiar faces in the smaller crowd of contestants.  he sits back as his friends interact with their other acquaintances,  nodding a greeting whenever it’s required of him.

       at some point he falls into conversation with someone he can’t remember the name of behind him,  before a quiet befalls the room.  it’s time.

       he’s half enthralled in the art of paying attention to those performing but his mind wanders towards the details of his own performances,  towards wondering how the others would feeling in the moment,  if they felt it got easier as time got on or harder.  sungwoon is the first of them to go up,  and minhyun straightens in his seat by the time the other’s on stage.  

       he knows sungwoon is talented,  knows it too well,  but as he watches him perform,  his breath catches in his throat.  the song suits him,  bringing a new image to what he’s already presented the judges,  and the pride is transparent in his expression when sungwoon finishes and trots back over to his seat.  he makes a mental note to congratulate the other later,  when they’re not so in the open,  but a voice at the back of his mind expresses amusement  --  because who is he kidding,  he won’t do that.  

       instead,  his mind lingers on the anticipation of seeing the other’s performances,  finally seeing the rap daniel had worked hard on in full action, laying witness to the prowess of woojin and kenta’s dance performances they’d spent time perfecting outside the home.  his mind wanders towards what the others’ have in store  --  what suwoong will show the world today  --  or alternatively,  off the topic of his head,  eunji, jungeun, joohyun, jinyoung;  what everyone that made it through round one is keen to show.  it’s at this thought he feels he’s truly one of the audience then.

       but not for long,  because his name is next.  he feels he floats his way onto stage,  thoughts glazed until he’s standing under the spotlight with all eyes on him. “thank you for having me back,”  he adds to his introduction,  his eyes impersonating a gentle smile as he readies for his cue.  his sister had given him one piece of advice in all seriousness,  finger waggling in his face.

       “smile,  you absolute Fool.”

       he takes a breath and closes his eyes as the music begins.

우린 다른 꿈을 찾고 있던 거야  (we are searching for different dreams) 아주 어린 날 놀던 숨바꼭질처럼  (like how we played hide-and-seek in our younger days)

       the song fills him with a sense of nostalgia he can’t entirely describe,  his lungs engulfed in the emotion and weighing him down as he performs.  he tries to express it the more he sings,  building up all he’s felt every time he’s listened and sang along.

해가 저물도록 혼자 남은 내가  (i’m left alone until the sun goes down) 지금 여기에 있다 (and now i’m here)

       he understands loneliness,  comes to know it well.  awkwardness belittles him when off stage,  conversations difficult to partake in,  and it’s led to the dissolution of most of his relationships.  you lack communication skills,  an acquaintance once told him with pity in her eyes,  and his ears had flushed,  expressing the embarrassment he’d felt at being read so easily.  he channels the emotions that have left a scar on his heart,  a focus on people he’s let get away without a fight,  deeming it easier to say goodbye.

oh yeah

       the highlight of his performance perhaps falls here,  as he aims to have each note resonate within his audience’s hearts.  his grows clearer and louder as he goes on from here,  pouring whatever he can summon into his voice,  where passion for a love overtakes his every sense as a man who sings for a lost lover he cannot seem to let go regardless of all.  

you are the only you’re the only one in my memory you are the all for me

       he channels heartbreak and longing,  lets it wash over him and into his gaze as he stares ahead,  as if making direct contact with the one he’d given his all to,  the one who’d gotten away and taken his essence with them.  he’d practiced his vocalizing to deliver the message as clear as he can attempt,  and now he can only hope those listening can feel the story as clear as he can.

손에 꼭 쥐었던 너와의 goodbye  (holding tightly in my hand, goodbye to you) 끝내 참지 못한 눈물이 나  (i couldn’t hold back the tears)

       his gaze moves towards the judges,  eventually sweeping over the audience before settling upon where the cameras should be.  he’s zoned out to a degree,  blinded and focused entirely on the delivery and image he’s trying to sell to those watching.  he wonders why he’s trying so hard,  when he became so wanting of survival  --  instead he convinces himself it’s his duty to portray the story the original singer set out to inspire within his listeners,  the bundle of feelings begging to be allowed to blossom in the audience’s hearts.  

어쩌면 오늘이 마지막 goodbye  (maybe this is the last goodbye) 함께 했던 모든 날이 좋았어  (all those days with you were good)

       he feels the song choice is almost ironic  --  a goodbye when he’s making a quiet plea to make it past eliminations once more,  to delay the farewell another day.  even though he tells every one all he can do is try his best,  it’s hard,  isn’t it?  trying not to be so hopeful,  not letting the desperation fill one slowly,  all with the desire to remain long enough to do another performance,  to make it past another hurdle.  the competition is cruel,  how everyone dreams of making it to the finals,  to be able to say their dream is finally coming true.

       cruel,  indeed.

이 말이 뭐라고 그렇게 어려웠을까  (why was it so hard to say this?) 이제 goodbye  (now goodbye)

       he closes his eyes once more,  mirroring his opening position.  his expression had become twinged with anguish as he sings,  and he almost chides himself for getting so carried into the song itself instead of focusing on portraying the image he’d come to show.  he’s unsure how it’ll translate to the audience,  to the cameras,  but he tells himself he’s done his best  --  it’s all he can do really.

goodbye.

                                                                     ↺

      he lies there in bed for a while after everyone’s settled down from from the events of getting the email,  rereading the contents in question at least a dozen times before he can will himself to put his phone down.

      the day had originally gone like normal,  the disruption of peace coming in the form of someone mentioning they’d gotten an email  (  --  kenta,  maybe,  if he searches his thoughts hard enough to find an answer,  followed closely by daniel rushing into the room  )  and with nerves erecting instantaneously,  minhyun takes a breath before looking towards his own phone.

      the first read is more eyes casually finding themselves in a frantic search for the key words  --  an invitation outlining he’s made the callback cut,  an address attached and formal details lingering in between the main points of the email.   his head hits the back of the couch silently,  and he closes his eyes.

      he breathes.

      conversations around him eventually fall into a lull as they break off into tiny groups,  scattering as they discuss the necessary details for the big day,  excitement in the air.  minhyun checks in and out of the conversation,  finding himself a little lost but stubborn enough not to let it seep through into his expression.  he keeps his answers light and goes about his day.

      then,  he tucks himself into bed,  bidding kenta a goodnight,  before turning his back on the other boy and proceeding to open up the very email he’s been lamenting in his head all day.

      oh god,  what did he sign himself up for?

      a minor freak out later,  not that anyone in the share-house would really know considering it’s all happening internally in the middle of the night,  because clearly minhyun never quite learned the value of expressing your emotions and having a healthy venting system going  --  and so,  when woojin asks him if he knows what he’s doing,  he simply shakes his head the first time and then says  i’m working on it  anytime after that.

      yeah,  definitely.

      it’s definitely not as if he whips something together the day before,  practice running into early morning,  relying on choreography he did in past and knew his body was still comfortably familiar with.  it’s times like these he’s thankful to his little sister,  that he had been coerced into attending dance lessons for however short a time it may be in comparison to other trainees,  appreciating the experience exponentially simply so he wouldn’t necessarily embarrass himself.  it takes a few full runs for his mind to remember the way his limbs are supposed to be working,  but a few hours in and breathless,  minhyun can stay with some semblance of confidence maybe he’s anticipating the big day.

      well,  more so at the prospect of getting it done and over with,  but he deems the thought is what counts.

      daniel stays over the night before so they can all go together,  and minhyun’s up making breakfast earlier than he expected to,  despite how he has to rub at his eyes for a while when he wakes just to will himself to open them.  once he’s up,  the butterflies ever present in his lungs make sure their presence is acknowledged,  and he almost considers skipping out on the meal.

      almost being the keyword,  but he knows the importance of a good balanced meal in the morning and so he eats,  pushing the same on the others through insisting remarks and a bit of force where necessary.  he smiles to himself at the sight of the group together,  a sense of love ever present in the way his eyes crinkle just the slightest,  before he shifts his attention back to his plate.

      the rest of the morning and the time after they’re finally past check-ins and inside the venue almost flies by,  minhyun too busy fretting over small details for the others and making sure everything was ready for his own performance by running through things a couple dozen times in his mind.  he helps sungwoon carry in his keyboard,  amused at the prospect of coming to the other’s aid though he doesn’t make any remarks about it,  almost wordless thanks to nerves. his heart feels like it’ll never stop racing,  and after a while,  he almost gets used to it.

      they’re all dressed in empty enigma shirts,  making some sort of combined statement and he can’t particularly remember who brought up the idea but he wears it proud  --  just a shirt,  he’ll remind himself later,  a little embarrassed,  but the point stands.

      he waits for the other boys to sit first before following suit,  finding comfort having a seat on one of their ends,  having the ability to look over and see them all at once.  maybe it’s the side of him that served as empty enigma’s manager for as long as he did,  or maybe it’s just a him thing overall,  but he smiles to himself as the others chatter among themselves and feels contentment stirring inside him.  he may not say it now,  maybe not anytime soon when words are so difficult to filter through and process but the appreciation he holds for his found family,  his band of misfits  --  he can’t even begin to phrase it all into words.

      instead,  he turns towards the front and watches as others start filtering in,  eyes beginning to analyze the competition without him really meaning to.  it feels like an automatic response,  and overall,  a very him thing to do when he’ll consider it later while looking back on the day.

      eventually his phone buzzes and he sees the text from suwoong pop onto the screen as he slides it open,  and for a moment he stares at it before looking back up towards the front.  ah,  yes.  suwoong.  how naive of him to forget the other was apart of the process,  especially when he was sure to be a sight to behold in the auditions,  no,  more the entire show.

      his phone then buzzes thrice consecutively,  and minhyun only sighs before unlocking it to respond,  question prompted about the location of his seat.  minhyun closes his eyes to bask in the quiet murmurs of the room and then like clockwork,  the quiet is shattering as if infiltrated by an incoming tsunami,  and he opens his eyes to offer suwoong a wry attempt at a grin.

      time passes with idle conversations and then a focus towards the beginning of the call-backs. soon after begin the nervous jitters,  crawling up his skin and he scratches his arms,  his neck,  his cheek from time to time,  the phantom sensations never quite leaving him,  increasing once the judges are announced.  he’s one to operate with a sheet of iron over his expression,  but he blinks in minor shock,  later supposing it’s not too out there  --  the contestants would be their investments in the future,  some talents they’d be scouting at the end of the program.  despite the pressure,  minhyun finds his jitters translating into excitement,  his attention kept towards the stage.

      daniel goes up first,  and minhyun offers a quick pat before he can making his way down,  the good luck almost lost in his bout of nerves before finally making it past his lips.  he shifts into the seat beside sungwoon when the other’s gone,  and like clock-work,  without really meaning to every time he swears,  his grip becomes interlocked with the others as they stare at the stage collectively.  he tries his best to pay attention through the whole thing,  beaming proudly though with the first of them gone,  minhyun feels the presence of ticking clock grow exponentially.  at some point,  he blanks out.  when daniel returns,  he slides back into his own seat as everyone commences the quiet cheers,  and minhyun offers a heartwarming good job whispered into the air once the other sits.  

      “hwang minhyun!”  katie lee calls out the moment he’s done with the congratulations,  and minhyun’s heart immediately jumps into his throat. daniel pats his knee before he can stand,  the other boys offering a thumb up and some verbal good lucks but it’s the collective smiles that stick with him as he makes his way to the makeshift stage.

      taking a few deep breathes on his way up,  he slides on what he deems to be a charming smile and quickly introduces himself.  “hello,  i’m hwang minhyun,  and i hope everyone remembers to recycle on the daily.”  he doesn’t know why he says that,  actually fails to remember much of the beginning when he looks back on the day later,  but he knows the rest of the pleasantries go as well as they can before he’s waiting for the music to begin.  the number of people should add to his nerves,  as he finally stands before them all,  but the stage does what it always does  --  spotlight in his eyes,  he inhales sharply and lets the rest of the world seep into the back of his thoughts.

twenty four karat magic in the air

      the performance is meant to start off a little acoustic style,  the backtrack essentially just his own ad-libs for his performance,  timed perfectly as he went along at the pace he’d practiced.  his voice is loud as he sings the final note in the line,  side of his mouth perking up as he closes his eyes for a moment.

head to toe so player look out uh

      his only plan for the beginning is to rely on his subtle charm and eye contact to start off his segment of time.  it’s a plan he’d been hesitant on doing but the idea bugs him for some time before he’d finally given in,  practicing and watching himself perform it countless times as his slightly accented english stabilizes as he gets a grip on his intentions.  his version is a little more focused on actually vocalizing the verse more so than the original did,  taking the chance to show off his singing.

pop pop, it's show time (show time) show time (show time) guess who's back again? oh they don't know? (go on tell 'em) oh they don't know? (go on tell 'em) i bet they know soon as we walk in (showin' up) wearing cuban links (ya) designer minks (ya) inglewood's finest shoes (whoop, whoop) don't look too hard might hurt ya'self known to give the color red the blues

      despite his growing confidence as he goes on,  he has yet to do much outside of exerting the image of a man that knows his lines and has the confidence to perform them,  switching his gaze from being planted on the judges themselves and the audience at large,  hoping to pull in the entire room into the piece that would come together to form the memory known as “minhyun’s attempt at a successful mga callback performance.”  a long title  --  it can use some work.

oh shoot, i'm a dangerous man with some money in my pocket (keep up) so many pretty girls around me and they waking up the rocket (keep up) why you mad, fix ya face, ain't my fault y'all be jocking (keep up)

      at the pretty girls line,  he fixes his gaze on katie lee and baek jiyoung for a moment,  shooting finger hearts to the panel,  then finishing off the verse.  at that,  the backtrack makes a faltering noise,  distorting at the next intended players only, come on,  and he sees scattered looks directed his way though it’s a well-known technique really.  minhyun takes it as a cue to run a hand through his hair casually,  growing grin visible as the track plays finally leaves the acoustic back track,  picking up where he’d left off vocally only a moment prior.  as the music switches to the original,  bruno mars’ voice echoing through the room,  his body reacts to the music automatically.

just put your pinky rings up to the moon girls, what y'all trying to do? (tell me what y'all trying to do) twenty four karat magic in the air head to toe so player (hands up!)

      his mind is empty as he dances,  more focused on the music than anything else,  not much active thought needed to deliver his moves.  there’s a casual grin,  tinted with a subtle cockiness only present when he performs,  channelling a bit of his reign persona to exert the intended effect of a man put together,  who knows what he’s doing.  he knows the moves well,  more than anything else in the moment in fact,  and a voice deep within his conscious tells him it’s clear with the confidence in his steps.  (not that he’d tell anyone else that,  finding blissful ignorance a safer home to settle within  --  i did okay,  he’ll tell anyone that asks and leave it at that).

put your pinky rings up to the moon girls, what y'all trying to do? (do) twenty four karat magic in the air head to toe so player (twenty four karat) uh, look out

                                                                      ↺

        he's ready for this.

       or so he tells himself,  like a chant that repeats itself over and over as he prepares to show his best  --  oh god,  dancing.  

        maybe he's not ready for this.

        pushing the anxious butterflies that threaten to choke his windpipe aside,  he's practiced for this,  is ready to go.  when the news become official within their circle,  that all of empty enigma would attempt to go for the mgas together,  minhyun read and re-read the news articles a hundred times over,  analyzing for all the information he would need to succeed.  so when he's asked to improvise a secondary performance,  he simply nods and casually says i'll do a dance,  then.

       see,  it's not like he expects to make it far,  he's mostly just there to show a joint front as he and the boys take on the world,  hands intertwined metaphorically (and literally,  thanks to sungwoon),  but he would be lying if he denied the part of him that yearned to prove his own insecurities wrong,  that maybe he could be cut out for all this,  could adapt to something he'd taken the coward's route out for time and time again.

       maybe minhyun could be allowed to dream this little dream of his.

       he knows the song too well,  one that's long since made a home for itself in his mind when it first released,  the lyrics resonating with a seductive call  --  dpr live had that effect,  the slow and gentle vibe that engulfed the listener wholesomely.  

       he brought a cap  ( black with a simple E.E written in the centre  --  minhyun repping band merch even in times like these when it was everyone for themselves )  that had been held by his belt buckles until it came time for the performance,  one that he secures firmly upon his head once he's called out a "ready!" for the track to play.

       he takes a breathe.  showtime.

just let me

       the chorus of jasmine is where he finds himself melting to the beat,  body moving in ways both memorized and guided by the music alone.  his gaze works to invite those watching in,  eyes doing the talking as his body works to showcase he has much to offer.  the choreography is supposed to lead towards a casual image,  of someone who almost sways to the almost lazy rhythm of the song.  

i could be the painter baby you could be my

        so far,  it's still simply a taste of what he has prepared,  the next verse being where he feels the mood pops off,  where he feels shows more of the vibe the judges might be looking for.  

we could be drunk on that love till we pass out yeah right here right now yeah 너의 예쁜 허리에 두 손을 girl can't we just dance now i could I could i could paint your beauty that's if you

       a lip bite here and there,  accompanied by a body roll,  seduction in the way his entire being tells a story,  a teasing grin appearing from moment to moment to contrast the seriousness that rests beneath his portrayal of a man that knows what he's doing.  the music continues to guide him despite the varying thoughts in his mind,  and he lets it  -- it's all he can do.

just let me just let me just let me just let me

       a nod to end off the performance,  before the music trails off and minhyun quickly bows to signal he's done,  breathing a little heavy.  the thank you is quickly on his lips,  a natural response after having gone from room to room,  showing all that they could.

       --  and before he knows it,  the end of the day has arrived,  passed within a blink of an eye.  minhyun leaves the room with a light heart tinted by a hint of heaviness he won't let settle.

                                                                       ↺

       he slides his hands up and down his knees as he anticipates the start of the interview.  time’s been rushing by since the process of audition day began,  but it’s the moments in between that slow down to a snail’s pace,  when he feels an impatient tick crawl up his spine.  however,  with a blink,  the interviewer is there and the new segment begins.

let’s jump right into it  --  WHY DO YOU WANT TO BE AN IDOL?

      he blinks at that.  it’s a straight-forward question,  one completely valid considering what the purpose of the whole audition was,  yet minhyun finds himself at a loss for words.

      idol?  well,  he can’t entirely say it’s been his life goal to be an idol,  on stage and performing,  but he supposes it’s not too far off from his hopeful aspirations in high school.  “i love singing,”  he starts slowly and simply,  a pondering look ever present on his features,  “maybe it sounds typical,  i know it’s been said time and time again but it’s been my aspiration for as long as i can remember.  singing is apart of who i am and i’ve always looked up to idols that endure through the most in order to achieve their dreams.”

we noticed you listed empty enigma here as part of your musical experience.  so let us ask you this  --  WHAT IS EMPTY ENIGMA?

      ah yes,  the prized question itself.  a hint of pride welcomes itself into the forefront of his smile,  and minhyun can’t help but relax a little as he speaks.  “empty enigma is a band that can be classified under the metalcore genre. currently,  it has four other members  --   HA  SUNGWOON,  KANG  DANIEL  --  both of which appeared at the mgas last year,  as well as new additions like me,  TAKADA  KENTA  and  PARK  WOOJIN.”

the interviewer nods along,  before tacking on,  AND  HOW  DOES  THE  BAND  FIT  IN WITH  YOUR  FUTURE  PLANS?

      “well,  we’ve actually just released our first studio album,  named  BETWEEN  FEAR  AND  FAITH and it’s been an interesting time.  that being said,  we collectively made the decision to give the mgas a shot this year and encouraged one another to have a go at something that will at the very least be an important learning opportunity  --  it’s rather exciting.”  he pauses,  hesitance flickering over his expression.  “other than that,  though?  i don’t know,  i guess we’ll see where life takes us.”

WHAT ARE YOUR MUSICAL INSPIRATIONS?

      “there’s a lot,  really.  i usually find myself lost in the beat when i’m listening to dpr live and sik-k,  but i like a different variety of things.  currently finding myself listening to a lot of the jonas brother’s classics,  but others such as ariana grande,  zayn,  troye sivan too... music is just really amazing.”  he’s practically gushing at this point,  hand gestures getting bigger the more he talks  --   the topic gets him going in so many ways.  “though, would it be too boastful of me to mention empty enigma here?”  he chuckles a little,  eyes falling into a smile of their own,  tone tainted with a hint of embarrassment,  but prideful nevertheless.  “the boys have taught me a lot,  which is why i have to mention checking out the new album again,  the passion everyone has really shines through.”

last question for the day,  but an important one nevertheless.  tell us,  WHAT IS YOUR DREAM COMPANY?

      “that’s a good question,”  he says,  nodding,  as if he’s put thought into the answer.  he expected the question ever since he wrote down his choices on the application,  but to explain his number one derived out of a group decision  --  it didn’t feel like the brightest idea, and so --  “music is fun and enjoyable because you make it as such,  and i feel that’s exactly what nova has to offer,  and it would be amazing to see this dream of mine fold out within nova.”

      minhyun catches himself,  reaching up to scratch his cheek in embarrassment as he continues,  tone a little bashful.  “i’ve also had my eyes on kt since i’ve been told i might fit in well there,  but honestly?  i think the real honour would be getting offered a spot anywhere,  especially when there’s a wide variety of talent throughout each company.  being recognized and wanted by any one of them would be that dream come true,  and that’s not really up to me.”

thank you for your time,  and good luck out there!

                                                                       ↺

        once his name is called, he's led to a private classroom and minhyun quickly familiarizes himself with the way his heart jumps in his chest once he passes the threshold of the door.  he wills himself not to keep his eyes planted firmly on the ground as his nerves command him to,  instead staring dead ahead as he walks in towards his intended spot by the mic.  

       he'd made it this far,  he's here.

       he bows in greeting,  holding the position for a moment,  before finally focusing his eyes on the panel of judges.  it feels more real in the moment,  the circumstances offering a form of an awakening as eyes peer back at him in anticipation and what he deems to be a hint of exhaustion  --  he doesn't blame them,  it's difficult work,  the whole audition process.  he's reminded of his time in high school,  during a production he had been in charge of and how the auditions alone had him on the verge of pulling his hair out.

       anyways,  that's all rather irrelevant in the moment.

       he can almost feel his heart in his throat.  quickly swallowing,  minhyun gives himself just a second to find a sense of composure before he speaks.  he didn't prepare anything to say,  much more focused on the actual performing part of it all,  but he begins talking before he can fret over it any longer.  "hello,  my name is hwang minhyun,  it's a pleasure to be here today."

       he works his voice to sound like what he deems to be the personification of honey,  smooth with a tone dipped in sweetness.  the real challenge comes at the prospect of holding a smile at all times,  more the type to allow the laugher to be pulled out of him in the moment.  instead he shows hints of amusement in the little ways  --  a twinkle in his eyes,  something pulling at the corners of his lips and the way each side threatens to break into something worthy of being noted as a grin,  the excitement  ( masking his discomfort )  flooding through his bloodstream.

       "i'll be performing  without you  by nct u,  i hope you'll enjoy it."  the backing track begins to play,  and it's only a beat before he starts to sing along.

조류에 쓸려가듯 바다를 떠도는 듯 지쳐가지만 낙원은 보이지 않아

       he channels what he knows best,  the familiar sensation of wandering lost within a world that moves so fast.  when he first picked the song,  it had been for the very emotion he senses in the lyrics themselves,  wanted to portray the kinship he feels with the words as he sings along and bares his heart to the world.  the camera never leaves his peripheral and it's hard not to focus on it entirely,  but when minhyun sings,  he's too caught up in the story he's sharing to entirely care.

난 너의 따듯함이 필요해 괜찮다고 말해주잖아 i need you, i need you

       yearning  --  minhyun knows the feeling well,  knows it as he sings the final line of the verse,  a hand coming up to lay the ghost of a touch upon the space above his heart.  what does he really need in his world,  in the life that he's made for himself?  he's known monetary privilege since the day he was brought into the world,  yet what is it he desires more than anything,  beyond materialistic means he's never been too lacking of?  he understands he is still lacking in many ways,  much of himself he needs to focus on and develop,  unlocked potential he's sure must be inside him because perhaps what minhyun craves more than anything is purpose.

내 손을 잡아 원을 그려 이 만큼 나눠 가진 거잖아 내 온 마음이 네 곁에 네 꿈이 내 곁에

       there's something weighing him down inside his chest,  clutching at him and keeping him grounded even now as he sings.  and in that moment,  his mind travels to the other boys,  towards wondering how their auditions were going,  if they felt the same uneasiness he had throughout,  if they'd gripped the same confidence they maintained with their empty enigma personas and channeled it into their performances as their real life pseudos.  here he stands as hwang minhyun,  twenty one,  and unexceptional still,  at least to his own standards.  minhyun,  who has felt like he's been stuck in the young adult version of a mid-life crisis since he came to the painful realization life is what you deem it to be and he has no idea what to expect.

산다는 거 견디는 거 함께라면 조금 더 행복해져 끝없이 연결돼 다시 can’t live without you

       emotion has long since made a home within his heart,  and at that,  minhyun slowly opens his eyes,  not entirely sure when he closed them in the first place.  he's a little embarrassed,  though he can't fantom why,  deeming it simply a consequence of the fact he performed at all.  yet,  with the way he's sure his cheeks would flush if he was the type to do so,  a companionship can be found within satisfaction and relief,  because this is one hurdle down  --  minhyun's proud of himself.

                                                                        ↺

        all in all,  he’s finds himself more nervous than anticipated,  tapping his foot against the floor repetitively in an attempt to keep himself grounded.  it's strange being back in an arts school,  even if it's only for a few hours in a day,  but accompanied by the fact he hasn’t performed with the name minhyun tacked upon his back ever since he turned his back on the arts and pursing music as a means after high school,  telling himself it was a lifestyle he’d never become accustomed to  --  put it altogether and that's exactly how it feels,  strange.  

       back in an arts school,  performing with the idealistic hope of reclaiming the very dreams he used to have once upon a time,  when he remained confident in the idea that hard work would pay off,  and that taking chances was worth it.  the pseudo reign holds more significance in that regard,  when empty enigma helped give birth to a side of him that didn’t fear the scrutiny of the spotlight no longer,  that didn’t fear failure to the same extent.

       reign ( and even manager lee ) are powered by the legacy of his mother,  a star that never stopped shining even after she bid the world stage a final farewell,  before moving onto taking care of her family full time.  minhyun,  his family often tells him,  resembles his father more,  naive to the way life can beat you down if you let it,  inclined towards the coward’s way out if he could justify it.

       so,  his application to the mgas comes as a bit of a surprise.

       the process to get inside doesn't take as long as he thought it might,  name tag visible on his person,  measurements taken,  now in wait for their names to be called.  the process is short,  but his nerves kick in eventually,  and every second feels like an eternity from then on.  never mind the fact he's known the lines to the song he's chosen since the day it had been released,  or how he's practiced his performances to a tee,  for what is confidence in the light of lingering doubt,  only growing by the moment?

       sungwoon sits beside him,  both of them in to showcase their singing as their strongest skill,  having been by each other's side since they left the share house that morning.  there's words willing to be said upon minhyun's lips,  but he finds himself reluctant to let them out.  he's yet to find an equilibrium with the other,  outline what exactly their relationship should or could be,  and as a result,  silence often becomes their best companion.

       usually,  he'd welcome it with easy going contentment,  but today--

       today,  a part of him yearns for the opportunity to confide within the other,  to say what sits simmering below the surface burning hot on a path from his stomach to his lungs.  his thoughts run furiously at the prospect of messing up and leaving the venue with the bitter taste of defeat on his tongue,  at the thought of finding aspirations that resembles dreams of the past when all he's felt he's done recently is stumble around in life blindfolded and lost.  

       ( the very idea gives birth to the sensation of butterflies making a home within the pit of his stomach,  and he takes a deep breath as another name is called ).  

       anyways,  if only he could say what was on his mind,  but he continues to feel tongue-tied as the clock ticks down.  so he sits there,  mouth shut and eyes peering at some crack in the flooring,  somehow unable to look away.  

       then,  at some point and without a word,  sungwoon reaches out and takes his hand,  and minhyun can only blink at the ground in surprise.  

       he's afraid to raise his head and ruin the surprisingly tender moment but his instincts kick in and casually squeeze the other's hand reassuringly,  and then remain interlocked.  a pressure that had been building in his chest all day relaxes a little at the gesture,  and instead of the fears and jitters that sit dormant within his every cell,  he takes the moment to breathe.

       time passes quickly from then on,  and next thing he knows,  he's inhaling a little sharply as sungwoon's name is called,  the first of the two to register when they had arrived.  he squeezes his hand once more,  offering a lukewarm "good luck" as two of the few words said in the space between them since they'd first sat down.  he tilts his head up to look at sungwoon as he stands,  and then watches as his companion walks off towards his designated room and he's left alone to await the call of his own.

       his turn is next.

       he swallows at the realization,  eyes closing. he runs through his lines to keep his mind off the ticking clock,  thoughts wandering towards the other empty enigma members with a curiosity at how they were doing.  

       it's not much longer before the quiet murmuring is interrupted with the call of his name.  minhyun doesn't move immediately,  despite the urgency required in going towards the next stage,  instead found frozen in place.