Dream
I look at my feet heavily dangling over the Ulsan river and sigh loudly. I feel so alone. Well, I’m always alone at this time of the day since everyone is still in cram school. I should be studying right now, but I’m feeling downhearted. The report card came in this morning and my grades aren’t comparable to the amount of effort I put into studying. I glance at the books spread out behind me and look back at my reflection, casually throwing pebbles in the water below, making the surface ripple repeatedly. Should I accept that this is the extent of my ability? Is this really all there is to me? A lot of stuff goes through my head at the moment, simple questions that don’t seem to have a clear answer anymore.
Who am I? Easy one: I’m Lee Minsoo, an average eighth grader from Gangbyeon Middle School. Then, who is Lee Minsoo? This one I’m not sure how to answer it. Who is Lee Minsoo? Why did it seem clearer when I was a kid?
I still remember the time when my dream of becoming an idol just started. I wasn’t the only one. How many of us dreamt of this while dancing to their favorite songs and singing in a cheap plastic microphone? I still remember dancing and singing almost every night with my two best friends, Choi Yejun and Park Sungho, in the living room of my parents’ small apartment. Yejun was screaming with all his might into his own plastic microphone as he recited the fast-paced rap part of the songs while Sungho danced his heart out using all the new moves he learned in his dancing classes. Thinking about it, it’s not that much different from how we spend our free time now. I sigh softly. It doesn’t seem like we grew up at all. We are still the same kids that dreamt of making it big.
The difference between now and then is that we finally learned that if we want something, we have to make it happen. Should be a good thing, no? Now, we also have way less free time to work on making it happen. We’re almost done with the first term of the eighth grade. Luckily, we’ll have summer vacation soon and soon after that, it will be our last term before the nightmarish last year of middle school. Sungho and Yejun have to go to cram school six days a week after classes and that never ends before nine. They aren’t the only ones since almost every kid in school is taking these after school classes to prepare themselves for the high school entrance exams. I would also like to go to cram school, but my parents can’t afford it at the moment, so I must study by myself to keep up with my classmates. And it’s hard. Really hard. I know my parents are putting money aside to send me to cram school next year. I’m glad I will finally be able to go since there’s no way I would be able to keep up with the others simply by studying by myself.
“Hey, Min. What are you doing?” a familiar voice asks just behind me.
I don’t even turn around to greet Yejun as he comes to sit beside me. He balances his legs over the edge and let them hang above the river. I can see the sole of his shoes reflected in the water. I am not surprised he found me while I was hanging all the way out here. This is my usual “meditation” spot. I release some pebbles from my hand and watch the ripples deform Yejun’s reflection.
“Nothing much. Just thinking,” I answer without much conviction.
I sigh and I know Yejun caught it, because he stares at me with a worried expression. I am not that moody usually.
“Is it the report card? You shouldn’t worry about that. You have quite a decent rank,” he says, but his expression becomes serious and a bit dark. He moved his gaze back to the river in front of us. “If it’s not that, what are you thinking about what?”
Since I was young, I mean younger, I often came here to think. The Ulsan river has always had a calming effect on me. I could spend hours just staring at it.
“Stuff. And us,” I reply simply. I know I’m vague but I have a feeling he is perfectly aware of the meaning behind those simple words, because what has always defined us is our dream.
“I haven’t given up, you know,” he answers with a small smile, confirming he understood exactly what I was talking about. I couldn’t help but smile myself.
“I haven’t either.”
He looks up to me and we share a laugh after such a heavy meaningful exchange for fifteen years old kids. And soon a comfortable silence falls on us. I’ve known Yejun and Sungho all my life. We were all born the same year, but Sungho is considered the oldest since he was born on January third. I was born about five months later on May eighteen while, Yejun, the youngest, was born on June fourteen. Our parents were high school friends that never grew apart even after all those years. We also lived in the same apartment complex most of our lives. But since Sungho’s parents’ small sewing business took off about a year ago, they moved to a wealthier neighborhood that is about fifteen minutes away by bus. He didn’t change school. Well, we were late into the first term of the seventh grade and changing school might have messed up his almost perfect score. Gangbyeon Middle School also holds an excellent reputation among a lot of highly regarded high schools. I cringe at the thought of starting our last year of middle school. As soon as we start it, life will be a lot less peaceful with all that studying for the high school entrance exams. I’m really worried about that. I know that I have to get in a good high school to get better education and pass the university entrance exams. If you don’t get into a good university, you might never land a job. This is a fact. Everybody knows that. That’s why everyone studies their butt off to get the best grades. I know I need a good job as soon as possible to be able to help out my parents. I can’t afford to fail. Another sigh.
Yejun wraps an arm around my shoulder. The hug makes me feel a bit better. “Don’t worry, Min. We’ll make it. We have to.”
His voice is so gentle. It’s heartbreaking how concerned of my sensitive feelings he is. Especially right now. I know he has his own worries. He finally shared some of it yesterday after he completely broke down. Yejun’s parents are filing for a divorce at the moment. He might move away soon. Far away. He doesn’t seem to be able to stand any of his parents right now. Nothing seems to appease the anger and the grief engendered by their decision. It’s the first time I’ve seen him this lost and confused. I know he feels betrayed and I don’t know what to do to make him feel better. In those moments, I realize I’m still a kid who doesn’t know much yet and I can’t wait to grow up into an adult. I feel like I could do so much more as an adult.
Since his arm is still tightly wrapped around me and Yejun isn’t giving any hint of withdrawing it anytime soon, I gently lie my head on his shoulder, hoping to share some of the comfort he is giving me. It’s actually a really intimate gesture that I wouldn’t do with most of my friends. Yejun is an exception. Sungho as well when he isn’t acting like a butthead. I think I’ve been conditioned to Yejun’s overly affectionate persona over the years. Some say it’s because he lacked love when he was younger. This is definitely not true. He has always been showered with love from his parents. So much that maybe it was overflowing. That might be why he takes the divorce as bad as he does. I wonder if Sungho knows about it. I always was the first one to know stuff about Yejun before, but since they started cram school, I now feel like he is closer to Sungho. It’s hard to admit how much that bothers me. If Yejun also moves away, what is going to weld us together? What about our dream? Will we be able to protect it even if we are separated? It doesn’t seem likely. As our little group crumbles slowly, it feels as if our dream could slip out of our reach any moment. I think that if we survive this crisis, nothing could stand in our way anymore. But will we?
“Is Sungho coming?” I ask after a short while, trying to make those scary thoughts disappear as quickly as possible.
Yejun nods his head gently. “He should be here any moment now.”
As if on cue, a deep, playful voice resonates behind us: “Hey lovebirds, missing me?”
I could even hear the smirk in his voice. I never liked to be called by pet names, especially by Sungho. He always makes it sound degrading and shameful. He first started to call us “lovebirds” shortly after he moved out of the apartment complex. I know he was feeling left out since he was away from us a lot. There’s nothing we could really do to rectify the situation. At first, Yejun and I went on a guilt trip: we completely stopped talking to each other if Sungho wasn’t there. It kind of made things worse, making things pretty awkward between the three of us. Instead, we decided to call each other at thirty past nine every week night. I remember my parents grumbling about the telephone bill at first because three-way phone calls are expensive, but this solution salvaged our friendship. We still call each other at night when we aren’t able to meet. Tonight, a Monday night, wasn’t a common time for us to meet up. Just before his night classes start, Yejun had called to tell me Sungho needed to meet us. This was really rare and weird. Sungho never called us before. It got me thinking and I couldn’t concentrate on my studies anymore so I ended up by the Ulsan river.
“Is that jealousy I hear, Ho?” the youngest answers back with the same playful tone.
Sungho rises an eyebrow, a little baffled by his quick response. He has always teased Yejun when the latter is overly affectionate; saying that we are not kids anymore and boys should not hug nor hold hands at our age. I think he says that because he is too awkward to ask for a hug when he needs one since the moment he started to be aware of girls. When that happened, his attitude changed drastically as he wanted to look grown up. It isn’t that bad when there’s no girl around, but I can’t say I’m not concerned about his attitude change. What’s the big deal about girls anyway? Yeah, I think they are really pretty, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to act like a dork to impress them. I really can’t understand him. Yejun doesn’t seem to mind as much as me. Maybe he knows stuff I don’t. Maybe he’s just that tolerant. He has always been really forgiving, especially toward Sungho’s stupidity. Even when that idiot’s comments become loathsome, Yejun always showers him with affection and the oldest always ends up complying. So I’m not surprised to see Yejun jump to his feet and launch himself into Sungho. He tackles him to the ground, laughing loudly as I try to hide a chuckle. I love my stupid, crazy friends. Because I’m afraid to lose all of this now, I really cherish these simple moments that seemed like a given before. Am I overly thinking everything? Maybe. Maybe that’s a part of the whole that makes me Lee Minsoo. A smile tugs my lips and I’m happy to have finally recovered a little part of myself.
“I get it, Jun. Now get off me. We need to get down to business,” Sungho voices as his tone turns serious.
That catches my attention. I am really curious about what has gotten the usually lighthearted Sungho in business mode. That’s another thing that isn’t seen often. Hearing the severe tone in the latter’s voice, Yejun quiets down and quickly gets up, smoothing his clothes as he does. He then throws me a curious glance but I am as confused as he is. The oldest clears his throat while getting a folded piece of paper from his back pocket.
“I was in Seoul this weekend,” he starts.
We already knew that. We couldn’t meet up because of it. Sungho proceeds to unfold the piece of paper. I can hardly breathe. I don’t know why I’m so on edge. I can barely control my trembling hands until I feel Yejun squeeze it reassuringly. I look at him for a second and he sends me a warm smile. I really don’t understand what’s gotten into me. It’s like I am waiting for the end of the world. I bite my lower lip nervously. It could as well be it.
“Ta-da!” Sungho shouts triumphantly while showing off the piece of paper.
What is this all about? I scan the colorful sheet as fast as I can, trying to find something familiar. And I find it. I would recognize that logo anywhere: that’s ONYX Entertainment’s logo. There are way bigger entertainment labels in Seoul, but we always said that we wanted to debut with ONYX. They are quite a small agency, having only one active group. But what a group! Redzone must be the most notorious Korean idol group ever. At a worldwide level I mean. It’s also the group that bestows on us the courage to also live our dream. What their leader, Ji Sungjae, said in an interview just before their breakthrough last year really got to me: “There’s nothing that can’t be accomplished. We failed many times before getting where we are now and I learned something valuable from that. Failing doesn’t mean the end. It only means you’re one step closer to success.” After that, I’ve been trying to live by that principle. But old habits die hard and I’m still as afraid as ever of failure. Still his words give me hope.
I snatch the sheet out of Sungho’s hand and almost miss his smug expression. Almost. I start to read parts of the letter out loud to let the content sink in:
“You are thereby invited to a closed audition held by ONYX Entertainment. Place: ONYX Entertainment Studio, Gangnam, Seoul. Date: July 26th, 2008. Time: 01:00 p.m. Qualification for audition: Have in hand the original numbered invitation and the completed registration form available at https://www.onyxent.com. Applicants under the age of 14 must provide legal parental agreement. Is this for real?” I can’t help but exclaim loudly. Sungho proudly nods. “082080245. There’s really an applicant number on it. The thing is real!” I shout with lesser disbelief and stronger enthusiasm.
“Who gave you this?” Yejun asks, taking the invitation from my hands.
The latter must also confirm that this is real, like really real.
“I was scouted,” the oldest replies without adding any details.
I have trouble hiding my envy. What would I have sacrificed to be in his shoes right now? I’m envious, and happy, but also angry. I don’t really know what I’m feeling right now. There are so many emotions trying to dominate my heart at the same time. I look down at my shoes and try to voice some of my thoughts, hoping my words will sound smooth:
“I’m so glad for you, Sungho. You really can’t miss this opportunity.”
“What are you talking about? WE can’t miss this opportunity,” the oldest corrects me, putting emphasis on the pronoun “we” as he speaks.
I look at him dumbfounded. What is he talking about? This invitation is clearly for one person only. I glance at Yejun and he bears a similar confused expression. Sungho sighs.
“Do you guys really think I would go to an audition all by myself? I can’t believe you think that badly of me. There’s two invitations in there. They are yours. I got you both an invitation from the scout. I can’t believe I have to explain all this,” he adds, running a hand over his face in complete dejection.
As if on cue, Yejun detaches the second invitation that had been perfectly glued to the other all this time. Now I feel bad and I mean really bad. I can feel the tears streaming down my cheeks and I can’t hold them back at all. I hide my face in my hands and start mumbling how sorry I am about the whole misunderstanding. The youngest is already patting my back gently. I know he’s looking at Sungho as he speaks.
“Don’t mind him, Ho. Min’s been a mess since before I arrived earlier,” Yejun explains and I can feel the smallest smile in his voice.
“I am not a mess,” I correct him between sobs, frustrated that he dared to say such a thing.
“I can see you’re not,” the oldest mutters, but I can hear the sarcasm in his voice. I give up, already knowing I have lost this fight. Even I have to admit that I kind of look like a mess at the moment. I know I cry easily, but this is ridiculous.
“Don’t worry, Min. I’m not mad. I was only kidding, okay?” Sungho adds after a while, seeing I wasn’t calming down.
He gently lays his hand on my shoulder and gives it a little squeeze so I raises my head to look in his eyes.
“It’s alright,” he claims soothingly.
I open my mouth to answer, but I seem to only be able to sob louder. He smiles softly at me. Even though he doesn’t know the reason I’m struggling, he still patiently waits for me to answer.
“I feel so bad, because you thought of me when you were scouted. I don’t think I would have been able to do the same,” I explain once I am able to speak almost clearly.
Sungho sighs and wraps his arm around my shoulder in a brotherly hug. “Don’t worry about things like that, Min. It doesn’t matter.”
“Yeah, for all we know, you might become so dazed that you’d forget your own invitation!” Yejun smartly confides with a playful voice.
“Shut up!” I mumble, waving my arm in his direction, trying to hit him while I am still held by Sungho.
Yejun starts laughing loudly as I brush him with the tip of my fingers, not exactly inflicting the harm I had in mind.
“All silly things aside, this means we have to prepare thoroughly. This is a really handsome opportunity since it’s a closed audition. There should be a lot less candidates,” the youngest supposes with a determined look on his face.
Sungho finally releases me, since I have mostly calmed down. He nods at Yejun’s words before adding:
“You’re right. This will require a lot of preparation.” Sungho pursues in is business-like voice. “First of all, there are a total of four categories on which we will be evaluated in this audition. For each category, many applicants will be evaluated at the same time. We will have about two minutes to show our skills. In the singing category, we will be asked to sing the song of our choice a cappella. The dancing category demands that we dance freestyle to the song of their choice. As for the acting category, we have to prepare a short monologue and also be prepared for impromptu acting. The modeling category requires us to catwalk and pose. It’s all detailed on the back of the invitation.”
I almost can’t believe it. “What? We have to do all that? Isn’t that kind of excessive for a first-round audition?”
The oldest nods his head. “It’s a lot more thorough than other companies, but they must be receiving tons of applications since they debuted Redzone.”
I could see why. ONYX used to be a really small entertainment company with only one active group. They became known worldwide last year, only three years after debuting Redzone, an all-male band that beat almost every records in the Korean music charts. The group even placed in some well-known charts around the world. The boys are on a roll, touring not only in Asia, but in America and Europe as well. Not many groups have the chance to break through worldwide. But at their level, it’s not only breaking through, it’s more like taking over! The enthusiasm and interest directed toward ONYX Entertainment is highly justified.
“So we’re really auditioning at ONYX Entertainment?” I ask, trying to fully get hold of the fact that this was all real.
Yejun smiles widely and nods repeatedly, handing me an invitation. I look at it fondly. I am applicant number 082080244. I also smile broadly and I know my dimples are showing.
Sungho ruffles my hair roughly playfully. “That’s the reaction I was going for!”
I am too happy to be bothered by his hands in my hair or his smarty retort. I just keep smiling, holding onto that piece of paper as if my life depends on it. Sungho slides an arm around my shoulders pulling me toward the nearest bus stop. Yejun laughs loudly behind us before shouting:
“You sure you want to leave your manuals here, Min?”
“You really know how to ruin a perfect moment,” Sungho replies with a fake sigh as I run back to collect my books sheepishly.
Yejun is still snickering playfully as he skips pass Sungho. He turns around to look at both of us with his wide smile.
“This is so great! I still can’t believe it! There are no words that can describe how happy I am right now,” Yejun shares, taking a few steps toward us.
The oldest simply laughs it off as if this is nothing, as if thinking about us in that situation was a natural thing to do. But it’s not. In a situation like this, you usually only think of yourself. I feel bad for not seeing how much Sungho has always been thoughtful and caring. Even more so than anyone I know. At the station, we wait with Sungho until his bus arrives. Not a word is exchanged, not a word is needed. We wave at the oldest as he enters the bus. The silence is comfortable and I need it to organize all the thoughts in my head. I really have to do something about that overthinking mind of mine. It’s getting tiresome.
