Page 68 of When Worlds Collide
Minjae burst into laughter. “Yes!” He turned to me. “He did not know his mic was turned on.”
“It was the acoustics!” Jihoon shouted over Minjae. “They were good in there!”
Sungmin, having recovered enough, picked up the story; “Our sound technicians were crying!”
I frowned, “Because they were embarrassed?”
“They were laughing too hard.” Woojin cut in, grinning at Jihoon, who had rolled onto his side, like he’d taken a physical hit to the stomach. I patted his side in a comforting manner, unable to get the words out past the giggles bubbling up and out of me. The youngest two members were completely inconsolable, holding onto each other for dear life as tears rolled down their faces.
Later, after the laughter had faded and quiet conversations resumed in pockets around the room, Seokmin – who had been reclined in a large, stuffed beanbag – began to sing. Only vague strains at first, just a hint of a melody, the recognition of which tickled at the corners of my brain. It seemed like this was such a regular occurrence that no one really paid him any mind, until he put lyrics to the song, his voice growing in strength, but still low, almost self-conscious. Until Sungmin joined in. Ordinarily, Sungmin rapped his parts, but he had been known to add backing vocals to many of their tracks and from this close, I could see why.
Stunned, I could only watch as the two friends wove their voices together, singing the middle-eight from ‘Heartbeat’ – an unofficially released track from an album of B-sides from a few years ago. To my knowledge, they’d never performed it live, despite many requests to.
The others had fallen silent now too, heads turned to watch the two youngest members, who had begun singing in quiet earnest now.
I jumped in surprise as Jihoon added his voice, picking up the main melody. He leaned back on his hands, his arm brushing up against mine, and while he was next to me, he was also… other, now. Becoming part of the whole that was physically in the room with me, but that did not include me.
And that made absolute sense.
Minjae and Woojin nodded, visibly counting the beats before Minjae joined on his verse. Woojin was the last, his rap verse the last of the song, but on the lyrics they all joined in, each adding their own backing vocal parts, or ad-libbing to cover for the lack of instruments.
I could only watch in stunned silence. I knew my mouth was probably hanging open, and maybe my eyes were getting a littlemisty, but it was only for sheer appreciation for the talent on display.
People often dismissed K-Pop groups with the moniker ‘manufactured’, when what they actually meant was ‘talentless’, and maybe that had been true of some western groups over the years with a heavy over-reliance on good looks and auto-tune, but that was certainly not true in K-Pop. Here, they were ‘manufactured’ - put together to contain the greatest combination of talent, endurance and overall appeal. Here was the proof.
Singing acapella at the best of times was a skill, but to sit here, half-drunk and yet seamlessly weaving in five different vocal lines, improvising instrumentals with only their voice … it was a staggering display of talent, and dedication and watching them told me the story of the hours – the years of practice they’d done together.
There was a reason groups were made to live together, to be together effectively 24-7, and it wasn’t always to do with saving money on accommodation. They were forged together, trained together, living together until they were a cohesive unit.
It was… I didn’t have the words.
It felt like a privilege to watch this, not just because the song was a masterpiece, in my opinion – it had always been a favourite – but to see this quiet moment of singing just for the joy of it… that’s what brought tears to my eyes.
Jihoon had always said it was the craft he loved, not the fame, or the accolades. He was happiest in the studio with his members, or on stage performing – doing the thing they were the very best at.
This was his purpose, and I saw it so clearly here. His purpose – the thing he’d defied his parents for, the thing he sacrificed everything for. It was this. His talent, his hard work. This was hispurpose, and that, more than anything, was the reason the silent tear slipped unnoticed down my cheek.
Chapter 21
It was around half-past midnight when my phone dinged. I peered at it blearily, and then snorted a laugh.
“Who’s making you laugh?” Jihoon leaned into me, his solid warmth crowding me in the very best kind of way. “I’m right here, and I know it wasn’t me.”
“Because you’re not funny.”
Bam. There was Woojin again with the drive-by savage.
I laughed, meeting Woojin’s eyes very briefly, not missing the subtle way he tilted his beer bottle at me.
“It’s just Becka,” I explained. “She’s stealing all my sheet masks now that I’m not there to stop her.”
“You should call her!” Seokmin said suddenly. He’d very much enjoyed some of my stories of the antics Becka and I had gotten up to over the years. I don’t know why – maybe it was a sense of protectiveness, but I’d been so keen that they like Becka, as much as I wanted them to like me.
The alcohol was definitely making me sentimental.
“I can’t call her,” I argued half-heartedly.
“Yes! Call Becka,” Sungmin piped up. “I want to see the girl who will steal Jin-hyung’s heart!”
