Min-ho
The human stream shows no sign of stopping, and I've only had time for a coffee and a trip to the bathroom. I have no intention of abandoning these young people performing in front of the selectors, because I know what it means to lose sleep, hunger, and energy to achieve your dream.
I yawn slowly and take the sheet of paper that choreographer Lee Ha-Eun is handing me.
"Tired?" she asks with a smile. "Do you want to take a break?"
I shake my head and read the contestant's profile.
Or rather, the contestant.
I look at the photo and am shocked.
"Annyeonghaseyo," a voice exclaims, and I shake myself, looking up.
A girl with delicate features and very long, dark, wavy hair entered silently and stopped in the center of the room.
We were all silent, and not even the sunbaenim said a word.
He's just staring at her, open-mouthed.
She grimaces and bows again, but I can tell she's irritated.
Lee Ha-Eun is speaking for us all.
"Welcome, contestant. Could you please introduce yourself?"
She takes off her sunglasses and smiles.
It's not a polite smile, but a pure challenge.
I lean forward, letting go of the paper, and observe her carefully.
Her eyes, the ones that captivated me and left me speechless, are a deep blue. They look like shards of sky set in a perfect, rosy oval, framed by thick, long hair. She's disarmingly beautiful.
And I don't think she even knows it, because despite her feigning confidence, she's a little uncomfortable.
"My name is Jade Taylor, I'm a dancer, choreographer, and, occasionally, a singer. I'm from Los Angeles, and I'd love to be part of this talent show. In fact, I'd love to.”
Her voice has a native accent, no foreign inflections, and that still amazes everyone.
It's the sunbaenim that gives voice to our thoughts.
“Jade, I read here that she was born in Seoul and has a Korean name. Can you explain that to me?”
She sighs slightly, but nods.
“I'm a Korean citizen, but I live in the States. I grew up here until I was seven, then my father, who is American, came back home.”
It seems difficult for her to confess this background, but perhaps, in my opinion, if she's even half as good as the information on the form says, it will be her passport to the program.
“Oh, I see. In fact, her appearance contrasts greatly with her background, and it surprised me.”
“I wonder how many times she must have said that,” I whisper softly, grimacing.
Her eyes on me tell me she's heard me, because she smiles at me, and that gesture opens up a huge window into this tiring day.
She's breathtakingly beautiful, so I look away and pretend to read the paper.
This girl is unsettling me, so much so that I can't follow the conversation until she's asked what her number will be.
She's chosen to dance to a popular K-pop song, moves to the center of the room, and waits for the backing track to begin.
And this is our second shock!
Not only has she reinterpreted the choreography in an original way, but she moves fluidly, blending modern dance with K-pop, creating a fascinating and engaging mix.
Yoshi is following her, leaning over the table, tapping his foot against the floor; the sunbaenim nods and drums his fingers on the table; Lee Ha-Eun has brought her hands to her face and stares at her, open-mouthed.
I'm transfixed, stuck in my chair, and can't help but admire her. Her movements are so beautiful and creative that I want to rush onto the dance floor and dance with her. I've never felt so captivated by a choreography that isn't mine or my group's.
It's almost disappointing when she stops, out of breath, her hair slightly disheveled, with a perfect split. She stays still, as if she were comfortably sitting on the floor having a picnic, with us not knowing what to say.
With a cough, the sunbaenim brings us back to order.
"Thank you. Please get up and wait a few moments while we talk," he says, but he's visibly embarrassed.
She reaches the back of the room and ties her hair with a rubber band.
"I'm speechless," Yoshi says with a sigh. "It's something so out of the ordinary that I don't know how to classify it."
Lee Ha-Eun nods, scribbles something on the paper, and hands it to the sunbaenim, who frowns.
"I don't think that can be done," he says annoyed, glancing at the girl.
"What?" I ask, surprised.
I can't believe they want to eliminate her.
Yoshi taps his card, and I frown.
"Male dance?" I read, puzzled.
I turn to study it and sigh.
She can't really believe we're putting her in a group with some boys.
I raise a hand and motion for her to come closer.
"Taylor, I think there's a mistake on your card," I say seriously.
She tilts her head to the side as she approaches with a graceful step.
"Which one, excuse me?"
I point to the spot and she leans toward me, letting the scent of her perfume waft through me.
It smells of the ocean and hibiscus flowers.
I close my eyes for a moment, but recover, quickly stepping back.
She's noticed my gesture because she looks up at me in surprise, then blushes and stands up.
"No mistake," she says seriously. "I don't intend to form a group with female idols. I know classical and modern dance, but if I have to perform K-pop, it will only be to male choreography. I don't intend—pardon my frankness and the term—to 'shake my hips' like a teenager. I've outgrown that phase for many years, so I feel closer to the boys' movements."
Lee Ha-Eun lets out a half-smile, but covers her mouth, while Yoshi makes an amused grimace.
“This is making things difficult for us,” I reply. “The rules don’t…”
“The rules don’t say anything about that,” he interrupts me, taking a crumpled piece of paper from his jeans pocket and handing it to me.
Yoshi saves me from embarrassment. And I think he’s having fun, too.
“Since we’re not the ones who have to analyze this, I’d say we vote for the performance we saw, what do you think?”
With a sigh of relief, we all nod.
“Miss Taylor, regarding your performance and the creativity you showed on this passage, for us…” The sunbaenim stares at us for a moment, and I think the verdict is unanimous, as we all nod. “It’s a yes. You move on to the next round.”
Jade drops to her knees, her eyes filling with tears. I really didn’t think she cared this much, but I also can’t imagine she’s unaware of how good she is.
Lee Ha-Eun gets up and hugs her, whispers something to her, and encourages her to stand up.
Still emotional, he bows and thanks her several times as he grabs his backpack and leaves the room.
I lean back and sigh deeply.
Who the hell is this girl?
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