• Just Dance Studio can be seen in the Butterfly graphic lyrics book and in the Save Me graphic lyrics book!

    • Jimin and that kid were standing in the center of the practice room. The 5-second wait after the beginning pose always seemed endlessly long. As soon as the music flowed from the speaker, the two of them started the first move. It was the choreography I had practiced with that kid until not too long ago. I sat on the practice room floor and watched.

      When I first found out that I couldn't dance for the time being, because of my ankle, it had been really difficult. It was stifling that I had to only watch others dance. But as I helped Jimin practice, and watched him develop, I came to a realization. That the fact that I couldn't dance myself wasn't that big a problem. That I could be happy continuing with dance in other ways.

      When I practiced dance with Jimin, I couldn't let even the smallest mistake go by. Jimin sometimes subtly missed the timing or made movements smaller than I expected. At those times, I stopped the music and examined each move one by one. But when I sat on the practice room floor, as a sort of audience, and watched from there, Jimin's dance looked different. I saw something bigger than just the small one-by-one movements. The things I had thought of only as mistakes when we practiced together approached me differently. The trivial mistakes and imperfections instead came together into a unique feeling. Of course, it was different than mine, but Jimin had his own timing and his own expressions. Jimin's dance was bright and heart-moving just as it was.

      The music ended. Jimin's dance ended as well. I saw that his face was shining with excitement and joy. That kid was standing next to him. [She] would be going overseas soon. Suddenly we locked eyes. I gave a thumbs-up and the kid gave a huge smile. It was strange. [She] didn't look a thing like my mother. I couldn't even remember my mother's face, so why did I think they looked similar? Suddenly something in my heart ached. My as-yet-unhealed ankle twinged.


      I remained alone in the practice room again. It was past twelve and the train had stopped running. Truthfully, I was waiting for it to stop. Only then could I use the practice room totally alone. When we practiced together, my eyes were drawn only to my own insufficiencies. That's why I was restless. I was afraid, too. But I wanted to do it. So I stayed by myself every night.

      As I spent my days this way, interestingly, the fear in my heart disappeared. Only the awareness that dancing was fun remained. For a long time I believed that the small, weak, powerless me I had created in my mind was the real thing. When I danced, I ended up thinking only of the weight of my body or the length of my arms, the speed or strength that I could create. The me who danced was neither small nor weak. My skills improved as much as I practiced. The movements that had been stuttering at first eventually connected. I was growing. It was just as much as a fingernail, but I was still growing. I became aware that I was actually a very talkative person. I felt that, when I danced, I was spitting out all the things I couldn't say or hadn't said. When I started to dance, for the first time, I started to like myself.


      By the time I returned to my senses, I had washed my arm so much that I was losing skin. My hands were trembling and I was short of breath. My eyes in the mirror were bloodshot. What had just happened came back to me in fragments.

      For a moment I had lost focus. I was dancing with a noona from the dance club, a collaborative dance, but I had lost my flow and we collided. I fell to the rough floor and my arm started to bleed. At that moment I had remembered what happened at the Flowering Arboretum. I thought that I had overcome it. But that wasn't the case. I had to run away. I had to wash it away. I had to look away. The me in the mirror was the same eight-year-old kid who had run away in the rain. Then all at once I realized. Noona had fallen down too.

      There was nobody in the practice room. Through the open door I could see that rain was falling heavily. In the distance I saw Hoseok hyung running. He was being rained on. I took an umbrella and ran out too. I ran, and then I stopped.

      There was nothing I could do. All I could do was fall and hurt someone, leave them behind and tremble at my own pain, and then run after them too late with an umbrella before stopping. Every time I took a step, rain water soaked my sneakers. Car headlights passed me by. It wasn't okay. No, it was okay. It didn't hurt. It wasn't that serious an injury. I was really okay.


      I reflexively turned my gaze away from a breathtaking wind. After dancing for a long time, I was often short of breath, but this wasn't the same context. I thought that I was similar to my mother. No, that was neither a thought nor a perception, and it wasn't something that could be explained or described. I couldn't look at the face of a friend I had known for more than 10 years. We had learned dance together and failed together and been frustrated and gained strength. We had slumped to the floor covered in sweat and had thrown towels to each other and cracked jokes. It felt like bothering a sensation that I hadn't felt once in that entire time, and I stood hurriedly up from the floor. As soon as I reached the corner, I leaned my back against the wall and stood there. I tried to calm my unsettled breathing, but I heard the sound of someone saying, "where are you going, Hoseok-ah?" A voice. I thought that it could have been a voice. A voice that called me "Hoseok-ah." A voice I couldn't recall now, that called back to the time when I was seven.


      In the end, I sprawled out on the floor. I turned off the music and all at once, my surroundings went quiet, and I heard nothing except the sound of my breathing and my own beating heart. I pulled out my phone and played the choreography video I had learned in the morning. In the video, hyung's movements were smooth and accurate. That was the result of countless hours and sweat, the result of practice, and since I was nowhere near that I was incredibly jealous. But understanding and hoping are different, so I sighed often. I suddenly stood up again. I imitated the turn as he'd done it, but my steps kept getting tangled. I kept making mistakes at the part where we had to match our flow while moving positions. We had decided to try it again tomorrow, but until then I wanted to show that I was serious. Rather than the playful praise of "that was better than I expected," I wanted to be recognized as a serious and equal partner, one who could match breaths with hyung.


      I danced without taking my eyes off my reflection in the mirror. The me in the mirror had feet that didn't touch the ground, lifted up and was free from the standards and gazes of the world. There was nothing important, nothing that made my heartbeat in my chest other than moving my body in time with the music.

      The first time I danced was around the time I was twelve. Maybe it would have been for a talent show on a field trip. I stood on stage, led by my friends. The things I remember from that day are the sound of applause and cheering, and the sense that I had finally become myself. Of course, at that time it was only that I felt enjoyment from moving my body in time with the music. I would only learn much later that that feeling was joy, and that that joy came not from the sound of the applause but from somewhere inside me.

      The me outside the mirror is hung up on so many things. My feet can only leave the ground for a few seconds at a time. When I hate something I smile and when I'm sad I laugh too. I collapse just about anywhere, even though I take medicine I don't really need. So when I dance, I try not to take my eyes off of the me in the mirror. The moment that I can become my truest self. The moment that I can throw away all the heavy things and fly away. The moment that I believe I can become happy. I protect those moments.


      The Notes 1: 花樣年華 [The Most Beautiful Moment in Life]

      • HOSEOK YEAR 22 JULY 25:

        Hoseok is on his way to the practice room.. His ankle had been put in a plaster cut so for the first time he had skipped dance training and instead headed home earlier than usual. While walking on crutches, he sees a drunken Yoongi staggering on the road.

        Two days after he heard of the accident, Hoseok had gone to meet Yoongi in his workroom after Yoongi had not picked up any calls. He banged but only heard the sound of music coming from inside. He leaves after giving up.

        Hoseok has known Yoongi since middle school. He knew about the impact of his mother’s death on him, and tried to be a reliable friend. He knew even then the others did not mean that much to Yoongi, but he thought Yoongi would have at least cared for Jungkook and visited him in the hospital. Even Yoongi’s partner had come searching for Hoseok saying she was unable to contact him.

        Hoseok tries to walk ahead but cannot help but look back at Yoongi, who had collapsed in front of a vendor.

        Annoyed, Hoseok scolds him harshly. He asks if he ever thought of others who were suffering just as much as him, if he ever thought of composing again because he couldn't live without music, and about why he did not see Jungkook when he knew what he meant to him. Hoseok feels as if he is perhaps pouring the frustration of his own injury on Yoongi. He thinks of how detrimental a hurt ankle is for a dancer, and how a hurt ankle would always make him conscious in dance, even then he could not think of giving up dancing. Before leaving he tells Yoongi to stop running away and that if he still wants to run away, he should run and never come back.

      • HOSEOK YEAR 22 JULY 7:

        Hoseok hurt his ankle the night Jimin and that girl ran into each other while practicing a dance move. He had carried the girl on his back and ran in the rain towards the hospital. While waiting for her in the hospital, he’d dropped her bag by accident and found a plane ticket. The girl had applied for an international dance team and the ticket meant that she had gotten through. The girl called out his name but he went outside on the excuse of buying an umbrella.

        Jimin had been waiting anxiously in the practice room, Hoseok had assured him the girl was fine but Jimin still seemed dejected.

        The next morning Hoseok’s ankle had swollen. He’d tripped a little carrying the girl, and then because he had to stand on his feet for his work, and could not afford to miss the dance practice- it became worse and worse.

      • HOSEOK YEAR 22 JULY 3:

        Jimin observes that Hoseok had been in a bad mood ever since he heard of Jungkook’s accident. He would come to practice but just stay in one corner. Jimin then narrates how he had come to join Just Dance club on Hoseok’s encouragement after the beach visit. In the Dance Club, Hoseok has a dance partner that he had found in the orphanage itself. The girl was good at dancing and often made him smile. Jimin looks at videos of Hoseok dancing and wishes to improve his dancing.

        Jimin had been fond of dancing since little, however regular hospital stays ended up making his body stiff and he was not as fluid as before. Therefore he practices hard, even after others leave.

        He remembers how his parents reacted to him arriving home. Scared of what repercussions he will face from his parents, Jimin had decided to make a commitment to something he likes.

        At night, Jimin practices turns in front of the mirror. He wants to impress his new partner, and do well instead of just ‘not bad’.