#sijak.

in time, she’ll be glad for this professor disappearing. for giving her a hard time out of all the students who seem to take the class as a joke. physical education really isn’t one to prioritize, mirae would argue and it was unjust that he should act as if it should be. but this wasn’t the day that she leaps for joy to see someone else in their office. it was like an episode from a series. an unknown, suspicious character, most likely masked, taking the place of another. she watches too much fantasy to actually believe this could be a harmful encounter.

with the nail of her thumb in her mouth she scanned the square, biting down harder than she had intended and swallowing the fragment. a pigeon was coming closer, rotating between pecking at the ground and observing her with its head cocked. she let out a laugh, releasing some of the tension. she sighs, realizing the person she had been waiting for just won’t show up anymore. the pigeon flies away just as she stands, ready to leave. her eyes fixate on its flight, following its trail with her gaze as she starts to walk on. but all that’s interrupted with an impact that throws off her petite frame. arms instinctively reach out front, grabbing onto whatever she can to keep her balance, and it fortunately somehow works.

start of the line, @consilian @aduros @seulpeun.

eyes peeking through the van's open window, she watches the headlights of other cars that pass them by shine like smudged stars. the wintry mist touches her cold upon the skin. the journey passes and the sunlight rouses more colors from their sleepy monochrome. and though the road still has the dark look of night, the sky is already more bluish than charcoal. under the fumes of the morning traffic, a tincture of dawn lingers, like dew upon leaves, a gift of freshness bequeathed anew each day.

becoming more aware of the loamy fragrance of the air, she yawns with the back of her hand hovering over her mouth. early schedules weren’t uncommon, but for a trip to successfully happen there needed to be a different kind of preparation. it was like moving out of the dorms except she spends packing in enthusiasm because of the promised time for leisure. she even includes an itinerary of her own, in case things go wrong and a back up plan was requisite. that’s the part that’s uncommon. she hadn’t been on a vacation with her group. she remains wishing for it to happen. her goal didn’t come to be what she had in mind, the set of people completely differing from the three girls she has lived with for years, but it didn’t excite her any less.

“quite possibly the best breakfast in seoul” was an atrocious scam. it turns out to be quite the exaggeration in jennie’s opinion, and she could tell her unnie was feeling somewhat the same. they were both making faces, mirroring each other’s expressions and they were mostly of confusion paired with ridiculing laughter. it wasn’t terrible, per se, but she couldn’t fathom what it was that people found in the food that made it wildly popular. whenever someone walks by, they try to keep poker faces and then titter mischievously once they’ve gone past them.

Mortified and frozen in her spot, she could feel a sudden jolt as adrenaline pushes her heart to pump, pump, pump faster. She finds a coppery taste in her mouth; with her blood flow making her hot, her cheeks then begin to flush. “I can see that…” A nervous laugh follows and she shifts her head away. Here, she hopes he overlooks this emotionally crippling experience of sudden self-consciousness. And in her head, she wonders why humans should develop this kind of universal and exclusive process that physically displays their embarrassment.

The fight or flight instinct kicks in. There was nothing for it. She would have to leave town, cast off her identity, and start her life somewhere new once again. Maybe this was her chance to come back home to New Zealand as she’s always dreamed of ever since she could remember, but that was all too much trouble for simply being told a rephrase of ‘Don’t cross. You’re most likely to die if you do. If you’re lucky enough to survive, you could get sent to jail, which is something an idol couldn’t afford to let happen especially at the beginning of her career.’ at an intersection. It was a courteous gesture, after all. “Thank you for telling me…” says Jennie in a timid tone, elusive eyes still avoiding contact with the stranger.

Start of the line, @roseune.

They stood, engrossed with slackened mouths and barely noticing their surroundings, under stars so brilliant they drew the eyes heaven bound. Jennie's trust in the companion leads her to a night of gazing at the midnight blue canvas above, covered in thousands and millions of bright specks (clusters of both faint and bold patches), and situated across the artificial lights of the city that looked like stills from an epic movie. The more she stared up in awe, the pin-pricks of white slowly started to seem more like street lamps that glowed large. Whenever she blinked rapidly, they become a gleaming daydream of falling stars.

Gloved hands against the cold railings, she leans forward, palms pressing down as the breeze of winter bites sharply and blows her light ash brown locks. She swells with sweetly sentimental thoughts, one of them about how the hike up was a modest trade off for such a view.

“It’s pretty at night.”

The younger couldn’t agree more. With a company so beautiful in every way, there were no doubts the destination would be too and yet she realizes then she couldn’t have gathered such a spectacle. “Ah, ah...” she lets out a series of sighs in bliss. “I know!” And follows up with an enthusiastic response as she briefly looks to the elder with a hint of glister in her eyes reflecting the same gleeful patterns of the sky that steals her attention back. “Thank you for bringing me here.” says Jennie in a casual tone, looking far into the view as she relishes the moment. 

Days were ticking by and the awaited annual occasion was to come. It seemed to approach faster this time around because of schedules that occupied her’s and her group’s previously dull days spent within the confinement of the training grounds; dull days followed by more of the same routine with the holidays set aside for other priorities, all work-related. It was different this time. This year, in general, she was looking forward to Christmas in all her zeal. Especially with her unnie, also known as her pseudo umma, taking her out to shop. Cherry on top of the sundae.

The theme was ugly sweaters. Fitting for the season. She would normally do her shopping online, as what has become the most convenient with her lifestyle. What she couldn't get at the local store, she'd find there but Jennie could not shop in the cool and perfect indifference of an air-conditioned mall. Not the way the average population would anyway. She would drink in the colors, the aromas and the atmosphere like an elixir. She pawed over fabrics and textures; thrived on interacting with the attendants, basking in the attention of each one almost a caricature of bubbly friendliness. It could be genuine, it could be the protocol to bring in the so-called holiday spirit. Something that had to be done and came along with being an employee in retail.

Regardless, in humor, you could say this is a shopaholic being let out of her cage. So whichever the case was, she still enjoyed every bit of it. She’s even turning around to her companion just to exclaim, “I could do this all day,” as her fingers brush through all sorts of material, whether or not it was part of their agenda for the day. At this point, her bag’s halfway through being filled. Edging through the flow of people and it’s getting full by the minute.

“Dance! Dance like the wind!”

A girl no longer, with standards expected. The life in training was mostly obligation that learned how to dwell in her soul. To dance was freedom, to dance was to become an opening flower or a bird aloft; well, not so much anymore. She was a different person in front of a panel. Her movements flowed with a dazzling grace that took away the breath of every person in her audience. To leave an impression was a need as much as breathing. Partially owed from her fear of losing control, she hadn’t embraced the music. A pity she’d forgotten what she was missing which was why one or two from the team was always ahead of her.

‘Dance! Dance like the wind!’

Her entire being that moved with a purposeful clarity showed, painfully obvious, how much heart she put into her routine. She wasn’t sure what to take the other’s words for and resorts to extracting the jest within it, whether or not it existed to begin with. Unknowingly, she slinks into lesser taut strides as the simple yet genuine phrase earns the other a laugh in response — lighthearted with undertones of scoffing. It was always ironic how her seniors in the industry had the luck of catching their dreams sooner than later, unlike the predicament she was in.