#vldsinjae

This, in many ways, hadn’t been how he’d expected nor truly desired to spend his sparsely found free day, yet there he stood, boots on the ground and eyes squinting at a sign in the distance. There were only a few days before Christmas, and the last thing he wanted was to not have enough or the right presents for everyone. He had mostly taken care of the staff, gathering some generic yet personal kinds of gifts, while he still had a few of his fellow members to purchase for. What better place than to find them here, no?

Approaching the market stall, Kiwon began to peruse the owners wares. In the next moment, he felt a strange tingle at the back of his neck, as if he were missing something. Uncertain at to what it meant, the young man raised his head and glanced back to the main walking path, seeing a fellow labelmate pass by.

“Sinjae!” he called, yet attempted to do so quietly. The last thing either of them needed was to be recognized, after all. “Sinjae, can I get your opinion on something quickly?”

There was no denying that there was a look of disappointment on his face. It was there in black and white, in the crevices and creases across scrunched up features. If KMG thought he was going to enjoy this, well, they had severely miscalculated.

Dark eyes looked out across the water as staff members prepared the kayak that he and a member of Particle were to use. As per what was apparently company fashion, he hadn’t been informed who he’d be adventuring with, not to mention he had hoped to do so alone, but they’d gone on about how it’d be safer and so forth (none of it which made a lick of sense, quite honestly). But he knew. He knew it was all about the photo ops.

Tugging on a life vest, the young man turned to face his activity partner, forcing a small smile.

“Hello,” he greeted, giving a slight bow before gazing at their waiting watercraft. There had been plenty of instances where he’d seen Sinjae around, but had never gotten the opportunity to properly get to know him. “I’m guessing you’ve kayaked before?”

“I don’t know if it’s strange, but I do a lot of Sudoku to keep from getting car sick, and it helps me fall asleep. I don’t know if I’m particularly good at it, but it calms my nerves.”

A song that captures your aesthetic.

— “Do You” by RM

“When I first auditioned at KMG I wanted to be a rapper. That’s all I wanted, all I dreamed of, but they thought I had more promise as a dancer, as a singer. … I’ve always been okay with the fact that — At least I like dancing, you know? And it’s not that I don’t enjoy singing, but… I’ve always felt more connected to rapping so… This song speaks to my desire to one day release music that represents every part of me. This song reminds me that at the end of the day, people can’t control your artistry if you just keep pressing forward. You can’t ever stop. You can’t listen to everyone telling you ‘no’. You have to do you.”

Your favorite childhood song.

— “The Rubberband Man” by The Spinners

“I remember the first time this song came on the radio at my mother’s shop. I was still really young — We’d only just moved to Seattle a few years prior. The city was so different. There was so much to get used to, to try and learn about. It was often pretty overwhelming. But then I heard this song. And even though at the time I didn’t really have any idea what it was about, I absolutely couldn’t resist dancing along. If there weren’t any customers around my mother would dance with me. We never really played it at home. It was more of a work song to remind us to smile. And dance. We always danced.”

A song that reminds you of a bad time.

— “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover” by Paul Simon

“My father passed away when I was thirteen from colorectal cancer, a complication of Crohn’s disease. He’d play this song as a form of escape. There was never a case of escaping a lover: he adored my mother. Usually it was just his way to remind himself that things can always get better, that there’s always a way to start anew and make yourself like a newborn baby: innocent, free, unknown yet to the world. … And as much as I’d like to say that it brought him back to us or cured him for a little while… It didn’t. Music is powerful, but the illness was too much for his body to keep fighting.

I listen to this song every now and again to remind me of how things could turn out for me as well: I inherited Crohn’s from my father. I don’t blame him. It’s just bad luck in that way, and this song reminds me that every day is precious and shouldn’t be wasted.”