When Teacher Kim looked a little confused, Soon-joon explained. “Ki-tae dongsaeng has the occasional habit of taking over the soundboard. He has also been known to rerun an entire mic setup when he’s not happy with it. The crew has learned to accept it because he’s usually right.”
“I didn’t realize you were trained in other aspects of the business. I am sorry,” Teacher Kim said.
“It’s okay, Seonsaengnim,” Ki-tae said. “Most people don’t. We have spent time working with the various crew teams so we may better understand and appreciate what they do for us.”
“BL Entertainment is truly unique,” Teacher Kim murmured.
“Indeed it is.” Soon-joon smiled. “Shall we take a seat and go over the presentation schedule?”
“Of course,” Teacher Kim answered. He bowed to Ki-tae, Cheongul, and HanYin before moving to the dais and pulling out a small book. Soon he and Soon-joon were engrossed in their discussion.
“I bet if we left, when we came back, they’d still be like that,” HanYin said.
“Probably,” Cheongul agreed as he took a seat in the front row closest to the aisle and shrugged out of his jacket. “Has anybody looked at the schedule yet today?”
“No,” Ki-tae said. “We probably should. I know we don’t have dance practice today, thankfully.”
“Oh yeah, Gojira seonbae has it in for you now.” HanYin chuckled.
“She’s making me work twice as hard as you two,” Ki-tae grumbled. “I miss one practice, and she holds a grudge.”
“She’s evil that way,” HanYin said as he took the seat next to Ki-tae. “What do you think these presentations are going to be like?”
“I don’t know. Hopefully they’ll be at least halfway decent. We should probably find out how many presentations there’s going to be and how long each one is.”
“Excuse me,” Sung-yi said as she bowed to them, a pile of papers and three clipboards in her hands. “Seongsaengnim asked that I give these information packets to you. Each one contains the list of presenters and which song they are presenting for. Each presentation will be twenty minutes. There is a total of eighteen students per class, and Seonsaengnim has two classes. Each class has been divided into groups of three. Class One will be presenting first, followed by Class Two. There will be a thirty-minute break between each class. The last pages of the packet are for notes on each of the groups and a scoring box. Once the presentations have been completed, the students will be escorted out of the hall, and you, along with Seonsaengnim and Park Soon-joon hyung, will have an hour to compare notes and scoring on each of the presentations. Once the voting has been completed, the students will be brought back into the room to hear your determination. If you would like to take a few moments to review the packets, please do so. We will be starting the presentations shortly. Gomabseumnida.”
“She made it through that whole speech and didn’t take her eyes off Cheongul-a’s chest once.” Ki-tae watched Park Sung-yi scurry across the room and out the door. “Too bad she’s not your type, poor thing.”
“I happen to prefer cute blondes,” Cheongul said absently.
“No, you prefer cute blondes with attitudes,” HanYin said. “You like them feisty.”
“I do at that.” Cheongul smirked. “The feistier the better. You’re too picky, HanYin-a, and Ki-tae-ya not picky enough.”
“That isn’t true!” Ki-tae smacked him in the arm. “I’m… selective.”
“You so are not.” HanYin chuckled. “Now I—I am selective.”
“No, you’re a monk,” Cheongul deadpanned. With an outraged gasp, HanYin pounced on him. The two wrestled back and forth, catching Ki-tae in the middle. When Soon-joon came over to see what was going on, they were all laughing in a pile.
“Could you three stop beating on each other? We’re going to be occupied for the next couple of hours.”
“I didn’t realize we had this many songs without videos,” Ki-tae said as he flipped through the packet. “Sometimes I feel as if all we do is eat, sleep, sing, and make videos… oh, and dance torture, uh, practice.”
“I only chose six songs,” Soon-joon said. “There will be two presentations on each song: one group from each class.”
“Please tell me we’re going to at least time the break for lunch?” HanYin said.
“Of course. The caterers will arrive shortly before the break.” Soon-joon almost looked offended. “Did you think I would let you starve? I know how often you need to fill those hollow bellies of yours.”
“Did he just call us fat?” HanYin asked.
“No, he said we eat too much,” Ki-tae said.
“That’s it. He’s going in the pond when we get home,” Cheongul grumbled.
“I believe the term youngsters use is ‘as if.’” Soon-joon chuckled as he walked away. They burst out laughing.
An hour and a half later, Ki-tae was ready to scream. Of the five presentations so far, four of them had done a decent job, but decent wasn’t good enough in his book. He could tell the current group hadn’t listened to the song. There was a big difference between listening and hearing. In this case, they had heard it but they hadn’t focused on the lyrics. He wanted to bang his head against the desk, except he wasn’t sitting at a desk.
“Please make them stop,” Ki-tae muttered as he laid his head on HanYin’s shoulder. “‘Heat’ is not about the weather!”
“Did they even listen to the words? Maybe they only had the Chinese version and don’t speak the language, because damned if they have a clue!” HanYin said. “I can only hope this was meant to be funny or some kind of headtrip, a video about weather with a song about sex. A parody? Were they trying for a parody?”
“I… I have no words,” Cheongul said, and that was saying something. He always had something to say. “Only seven more to go, guys. Hwaiting!”
Ki-tae glared at him. “Shut up.”
“The next one is ‘Master,’” HanYin said. “Talk to us after that.”
Twenty minutes later, Cheongul looked as if someone had slapped him. He stared at the students on the dais. They were stammering and forgetting what they had just said. Their visuals were subpar, and he had yet to figure out how they associated the circus with the words he’d penned.
“Now you know our pain,” HanYin said. “The circus? Really?”
“Not another word… or I just might cry,” Cheongul said softly.
The lights went up, and the students broke down their presentation. Once they were clear, the caterers began wheeling in food and setting up a nice buffet. The smell of meat filled Ki-tae’s nose, and his stomach rumbled loudly.
“Hungry, Ki-tae-ya?” HanYin laughed.
“I should have had another breakfast sandwich on the way in,” Ki-tae said sheepishly. “I’m starving.”
“Let’s get some food and go over the first class,” Cheongul said.
“Do we have to?” HanYin almost whined. “Wasn’t once painful enough?”
“As much as I would love to say no, especially the last two, we have to be professional about this and really look at what they did,” Cheongul explained.
“I know,” HanYin sighed.
Soon-joon
SOON-JOON WATCHED as they got food and then sat down on the floor near the wall in a circle, packets and clipboards in hand. He was proud of them. They weren’t dismissing the first group out of hand, and they were multitasking to boot. How long had it taken him to convince them they could focus on more than one thing at a time? Soon-joon chuckled.
“They are very professional,” Teacher Kim said.
“They can be, when called upon to do so.” Soon-joon smiled. “They can act like rambunctious toddlers too.”
“They’re still young,” Teacher Kim said with a nod.
“They are good boys,” Soon-joon said. “This is a good experience for them as well. They’re seeing how others interpret their songs. It is hard because they know what the songs mean, but not what they mean to other people.”
<
br /> “I will admit I had not heard their music,” Teacher Kim said. “It is not my style. However, I listened to it a lot over the last three weeks to get a feel for it.”
“Of the many bands I manage, I enjoy Bam Kiseu’s music the most,” Soon-joon admitted. “There is such feeling in their words. They each have their own style, and yet they are adaptable to each other. They work well together, and they always present a united front. They are family.”
“I can see that in the easy way they interact with each other. They are close.”
“As close as brothers,” Soon-joon said softly.
Jin-woo
JIN-WOO WAS late and Min-su was going to kill him, but if he hadn’t gone back to the studio, they wouldn’t have their visuals, and then she would have killed him slowly. He’d had to scramble to find someone with the keys, too, forcing him to miss all the other presentations. He never realized how hard it was to find maintenance personnel on a campus this size. When he finally reached Min-su, she looked scared as hell.
“What?” he asked. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Um, I… I can’t breathe. I really… can’t.” Min-su puffed out her cheeks and fanned her face. “I didn’t…. If I had known, I would have chosen a different outfit. I would have done my hair, and my makeup is just…. Dammit. Why didn’t anyone tell me they were going to be here?”
“What the heck is she talking about, Jong-in-a?” Jin-woo demanded.
“We’re not just presenting to Park Soon-joon hyung,” Jong-in said quietly.
“Of course we aren’t. Seonsaengnim is there as well,” Jin-woo said. “This isn’t new.”
“It’s…. We’re…. Jin-woo-ya, Bam Kiseu is in that room!” Min-su said, grabbing him by his vest and shaking him back and forth. “HanYin oppa is in that room! Ki-tae oppa is in that room! Cheongul oppa is in that room!”
Jin-woo did the only thing he could think of. He slapped her.
Min-su stumbled back a few steps and just stared at him. Then she narrowed her eyes and came at him.
Jin-woo threw up his hands in defense of the punch coming his way.
“I’m sorry!” But it never landed. He peeked with one eye. Min-su looked completely calm.
“Thank you,” she said with a sigh. “I was losing my shit, and that’s not acceptable.”
“You’re good?” Jin-woo said.
“I’m good.”
“Good,” Jin-woo said as he began to shake. “I’m going to pass out now.”
And he did just that.
Jin-woo didn’t remember hitting the floor, but he figured that must have happened, as he was staring up at the ceiling with Min-su slapping his face and Jong-in looking terribly concerned. He caught Min-su’s wrist and held her hand to his face for a few moments, closing his eyes once more.
“No, you cannot pass out on us again. We’re up next, Jin-woo-ya!” Min-su said, an edge of desperation in her voice.
“I’m not going to pass out again. I just wanted you to stop slapping me and calm down,” he said. Then he slowly sat up, rubbing the back of his head. He looked at Jong-in and teased, “You couldn’t have caught me?”
“Nope, Min-su-ya was in the way.”
“Hey, this is not my fault,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.
“Well, you were shaking Jin-woo-ya pretty hard,” Jong-in pointed out. “There’s no need to panic. They’re people, just like us.”
No, not just like us, Jin-woo thought but wisely kept the words to himself.
All too soon they were up, and Jin-woo was so nervous his hands were shaking. He hadn’t seen Ki-tae in person since that night. His dreams had been consistent and incredibly realistic, and he could describe the scent of Ki-tae’s skin if asked. He could describe the taste of it, if pressed. That was how vivid they were. How in the hell was he supposed to form coherent sentences while in the same room with him?
Min-su entered the room first, and then Jong-in followed. Jin-woo was last, and he paused at the door. He took a deep breath, and finally, after a last desperate thought of How badly will Min-su kill me if I run away screaming, entered the room.
Immediately he sought out Ki-tae and found those intense eyes locked on him. Jin-woo swallowed hard and couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away. He noted how Ki-tae sat up and leaned forward, saw how his nostrils flared as if scenting Jin-woo, which was kind of hot, in a predatory sort of way. Jin-woo’s breath caught in his throat as he realized Ki-tae was hunting him. Even though they were in the same room and neither one of them had moved, Ki-tae was hunting him.
The stirring in his groin had Jin-woo turning away and rushing to the dais. He turned his back to the crowd and set up the storyboards on the easel placed in the center. Glancing to his right, Jin-woo noted Jong-in expertly managing the media station, and Min-su was already handing out the lyrics and informational packets. She paused and bowed before Bam Kiseu. Jin-woo was amazed at how she maintained her professionalism, refraining from staring at the man she stanned, Cheongul. Then she was back on the dais with them, and they started their presentation.
“Good afternoon, honored guests and classmates. My name is Yi Min-su, and these are my colleagues, Cheong Jin-woo-ya and Bak Jong-in-a,” Min-su began with a pleasant smile, and they bowed to their audience. “Our presentation is for the song ‘Crossing Time.’ We have provided you a packet containing the lyrics, as well as the major points we will be addressing. Bak Jong-in-a will begin our presentation with a breakdown and analysis of ‘Crossing Time.’”
Once Min-su finished speaking, Jin-woo followed her to the two seats they had set up on the side. The focus, at this point, would be solely on Jong-in. Jin-woo envied him. Jong-in had such an easy way about him. He could charm anyone just by flashing those adorable dimples. Combined with his round wire-framed glasses, they were killer. Jong-in’s smooth voice was low and melodic. No matter how many times he heard it and knew it was coming, Jin-woo was still amazed by Jong-in’s singing voice. His low tones suited the beginning verse of “Crossing Time” perfectly.
I never went looking for love
I never wanted that weakness inside me
Over the years, I’ve been successful
Keeping my heart always free.
But then I chanced upon you
Your gentle smile was a knife inside of me.
As Jin-woo looked at the crowd, purposefully not seeking out Ki-tae, he noticed HanYin sitting up a little straighter, his eyes locked on Jong-in. Interesting. It seemed he wasn’t the only one impressed by Jong-in’s voice.
“The introduction to ‘Crossing Time’ is a slow drawing in of the audience. It is a symphonic melody in minor. The beat is a subtle pulse beneath the synthesized strings, a soft echo of a heartbeat, slow and steady,” Jong-in began. “On the screen behind me, you’ll see I’ve pulled the song into its individual tracks. When overlaid with each other, they create a beautiful, melodic, yet melancholy sound. The first verse tells us a story. It tells of a being who was afraid to love, afraid of being weak because of it, afraid to be vulnerable. Yet love finds him and with a single glance, captures his heart.”
Jong-in pointed the remote and clicked Play, allowing the slow introduction and opening melody to fill the room. Cheongul’s voice, his tone conveyed exactly what Jong-in described. Jin-woo could hear the slow beat of the percussion, the melancholy in the strings. He could feel what the narrator felt, and it made him shiver. The song paused, and Jong-in spoke once more.
“Our narrator is still resistant. He keeps himself away from the one he loves, tries to maintain his solitude, but he can’t. The intensity of emotion is building within him, conveyed in the increased pace, the beat picking up speed, just as our hearts speed up when we see someone we desire. The chords change to major, showing more energy, more passion, more desire. The words come a little faster, a little sharper, showing his primal desire for the one he loves.”
I thought I could let you go,
Never tell you what I feel.
I thought I could ignore the pain,
Of being only me.
I think of you all the time.
I can’t get you out of my mind.
You’re in every thought and every dream,
Haunting me.
The song began again. Ki-tae’s voice grabbed the audience, carrying the increased energy, the passion, the intensity. Jin-woo cursed under his breath. This song got to him when he was alone. Knowing Ki-tae was about ten feet away, he had a hard time not getting out of his chair and climbing into Ki-tae’s lap.
“And then the music grabs you by the throat,” Jong-in said. “It hits you with a strong, fast beat drop, the harmony of all three voices slamming together to show how everything is breaking free within our narrator. He can’t control it anymore. He can’t stay away. He must have the one he loves. He’ll do anything to have this one person… even cross time itself. Four simple lines to convey the determination and dedication of a being in love.”
Through the walls and through the chains,
Through the ice and through the rain,
You found your way into my heart,
And now, I’m crossing time to find you.
“However, he is still surprised, still amazed at what he feels, at this thing he saw as weakness. He finds strength in love. He feels it pick him up, grant him the strength to carry on, to search for the one he loves. The beat softens just the tiniest bit, fluttering like butterfly wings. The melody is no longer melancholy. It is light and sweet and pure. Yet it is as strong as it appears delicate.”
What is this weakness that turns to strength?
This ice that turns to fire?
Deep inside of me, something flutters,
A love to last the ages.
This is what you’ve done to me,
By simply being you,
And now, nothing less than your eternity will do.
HanYin’s clear vocals echoed through the hall. Jin-woo could hear the wonder in it, the surprise. He could feel the power and the strength being in love granted. Jin-woo wanted a love like that. He wanted it to make his knees weak and his heart strong. Smiling, Jin-woo glanced up to see Ki-tae watching him again. Well, Ki-tae might have paid some attention to Jong-in, but every time Jin-woo glanced in his direction, Ki-tae was staring at him. It was as if he sensed when Jin-woo was going to look at him. He was so intense, more so than when he was onstage. Jin-woo wasn’t sure how he felt about that. With a shake of his head, Jin-woo brought his focus back to Jong-in’s part of the presentation.
Night Kiss Page 7