hello, zuko here. not sure if u rmb me :( 

i'm back from the dead. one more day before school unkicks my , and i hand my fate over to my TAs who are marking my papers. i should be studying right now, and told myself that i'd finish this up later, but i guess i felt emotional today so instead of being responsible, i powered through all of it. 

if anyone is interested in reading the following blog post, feel free to. it's a bit personal, but just ramblings i couldn't help but think of the other day when listening to exo's music. and, be forewarned, awfully embarrassing at some parts, but please excuse me—i'm recounting when i was 13 :') or at least, partially. 

that being said, some quick updates: 

1. i'm going to finish xmts. the chapter is close to finished, there's not a lot left either, mostly wrapping up and tying up strings, so... after exams, i'll be writing more (and ignoring responsibilities to apply to shet lol) 

2. i'm going to finish prodigy. seeing that completed next to the cutlass trilogy is going to happen. watch me. 

3. i'm going to try my best to finish efe, since it's so close and because i really want to wrap it up. 

4. i do want to write serendipitious bc it's really fun and recently been slapped with exo feels, but... we shall see. pray that more inspiration hits me bc uni drained my soul. (also, if someone wants to do a poster for that fic pls hmu........ the front beginning to bother me AHHAHA) 

if you have questions, feel free to ask! now, without further ado, i present you some embarrassing rambles of me, thinking about exo. happy late anniversary <3 

 

Something Blue, Something Neutral, Something Warm

The first time I hear about EXO is during my dad’s sabbatical year in China. One of my classmates has a set of Overdose’s photocards of all the members attached to her pencil case. I have absolutely no idea what K-pop is, or what Korean music apart from brief knowledge of Gangnam Style’s, a worldwide sensational hit.

The second time is a year later, I go on a retreat with a friend. During the retreat, she forces me to listen to playlists and playlists of K-pop, and I come to the conclusion that it’s not actually all that bad. One of the songs was Call Me Baby, which is one of the few that stick to me. And so it begins. 

Being 13 and impressionable and emotional and with the tendency to latch onto movies and books and now apparently boybands, I fell down the rabbit hole quickly. I watched EXO on variety shows (many of which were outdated, since by then, Luhan and Kris had already left, and Tao as well), I watched EXO Next Door, I saved pictures, set backgrounds, memorized names, faces and voices. It was fun to have a fixation like that. They made me laugh, made me tear up, made me smile, inspired me. 

And thinking about the past is painfully nostalgic. Because that’s time I’ll never get back, and I think of laughter and happiness and I want to feel that—not the feeling, but the moment again—but I can’t. I can’t even recreate it, because I’ve grown up, and so have they, in a way. I'm not the same 13-year-old who laughed at Baekhyun choking down bittermelon juice, cup after cup, and he's not the same now, either. That thought is terrifying and nostalgic and strange. 

But thinking about the past is also wonderful. Because I can smile and laugh when I think of it, can rewatch moments, listen to songs that remind me of it, and can enjoy the fact that it was. 

3.6.5. 

I’m in eighth grade, on vacation with my parents and relatives, at Niagara Falls. We’re at a Chinese buffet, and my mom has somehow given me the go-ahead to order one of the fancy (relatively expensive) drinks at the restaurant. I’m elated. I love buffets. I’m starving from a day at hiking. 

I walk to get my food, turn a corner, and a woman dragging her daughter almost crashes into me. 

I tell her I’m sorry, and she replies, “Watch where you’re going. This isn’t China.” 

I’ve repeated this scene a million times. In my imagination, I’m braver and faster to respond, and I tell her sarcastically, “I’m not Chinese, I’m Japanese.”  

That’s a lie, of course. But the thought of her surprised expression always amuses me. Except I don't do that in actuality, rather apologize meekly. 

I get back to my table when I realize that the comment is racist. While friends have sometimes teased me about my lunch and I used to be embarrassed of speaking Chinese in front of them, this is something else that I’ve never experienced. What should’ve been an exciting meal has me silent, upset, and angry. 

When I go to get food again, I happen to pass the lady. We’re nowhere close to each other, but she stops me angrily, and tells me if I know how to walk. My mom is close behind, and when she asks what’s going on, the lady tells my mom if she’s “ever taught her rude daughter manners.”  

That’s the breaking point. I replay this scene a lot, too, thinking about all the sarcastic, snarky things I could’ve replied with, to shut her up. But at the moment, I’d been angry and insulted and hurt, so instead, I go to the washroom, sit on the toilet lid, pull out my earbuds and tell myself not to cry while listening to 3.6.5.  

I still cry a bit, angry and frustrated, but listening to EXO makes me feel better. 

It’s childish now that I think of it now. But then again, I’d been 13, someone had the gall to be so blatantly racist towards me (at a Chinese buffet, of all places), so I guess my response was understandable given my age and situation. In the cramped stall, I listen to 3.6.5 until I no longer feel like crying, slightly reassured by hearing EXO sing that it’ll be better, and go back to dinner. 

3.6.5 has always been special to me because of that encounter. I hadn’t known how to cope, and the song—and EXO—offered a bit of comfort and fondness. I no longer re-envision my revenge on the lady who’d insulted me and I’ve long learned not to take things stupid, prejudiced, hateful people take to heart—but 3.6.5 still reminds me of that moment, and how far I’ve come since it, and the bit of comfort EXO had offered when my only solution had been to shut myself in alone. 

Ex’Act

Not all my memories about EXO are as tragic as the last. In fact, most are largely pleasant. Or, at least in the case of Ex’Act, neutral. Or happy. 

The first comeback I catch is Ex’Act. I’m excited; I remember sneaking out of class to listen when the Monster MV first dropped. 

On Wednesdays, I bus to badminton lessons. Because it’s in the opposite direction as my friends, it’s a bus ride I take alone. Back then, I didn’t have a phone but only an iPod, and I didn’t have time to download the Ex’Act album to my music. 

YouTube had a trick back then: if you open it on Safari and close your device, you can still play it off Wifi if you load enough. I’m not sure if this still works, since I’ve long moved to Spotify, but it was the only option back then. So on Wednesday, before I go to badminton lessons, I stay at school with YouTube open to “EXO Ex’Act—Full Album” and load as much as I can—usually around the first 25 minutes or so. Then, waiting for the bus, I manage to listen to Ex’Act despite the lack of wifi. 

It’s funny, thinking back to how difficult listening to an album was for me, and how hard I tried in order to do it. Funny, but fond, thinking of myself standing there and waiting for the bus to come, listening to Jongdae’s opening of “Hello, angel,” and smiling at absolutely nothing at all. 

UN Village 

Further along, when I’m much older, my favourite member drops his album. This time, I’m stuck in the remotest parts of China, painfully blocked from YouTube and another handful of social media sites that I need to function, and wifi is awfully limited. 

I’m in the mountains of Guizhou, in a small village surrounded by rice fields, and I try everything in my power to get my hands on City Lights, so I can listen to it. I try to get my friends to send the files. I try to download the files themselves. Someway on another, by a miracle, I manage. 

Back then, I had only managed to get the music onto my iPad. It was a mini, but it was still too large to fit into small pockets and it was far too hot to wear something that would have a pocket big enough to fit my iPad. So, with my school backpack—which is huge, but the only one I brought—an umbrella and earphones sticking out from a gap in the zippers, I walk down cobbled streets, through rice fields, under the rain, and listen to UN Village. 

It’s an imagery that I can still imagine so, so vividly, but can never put into words. The mountains of Guizhou are gorgeous, after all, but it’s hard to explain if you’ve never seen them. Coming from Canada, where mountains were all angles and rock and snow, the amount of green and life in Guizhou’s is astounding. So, in this small mountain village, with the light drizzle, I listen to City Lights, songs queued in order of my favourite to least favourite. 

City Lights in general still reminds me of that time. Of absolutely breathtaking scenery, of my favourite singer’s first album, of the time I spent with family, of the time I spent alone, happily clinging onto every note, every melody of this album I was so elated for. It brings a sort of nostalgia that I can’t put into words, either, because I’m reminded of so much that it’s overwhelming. 

I think, sometimes, that it’s not entirely about EXO. For so many years of my life, EXO has just been… there. I was never really one for merch, or for streaming, or anything of the sort. Compared to a lot of people I knew, I felt like more of a casual fan than anything else. But now, binging their music for the first time in a while, and I’m hit with so many feelings that I want to cry. It’s not out of sadness, but I can’t say for sure that it’s out of happiness, either, because what hits me hardest is the fact that we’ve all grown. And while I can’t say if it affects them the same way it does me, sometimes when I’m reminded of my 13 old self laughing at them, I’m also hit with the realization that I’m now around the age they were when I first started listening to their music. 

So I guess, when I think of EXO, I’m reminded of growing up, for some reason. It’s neither good or bad, it just is. I’m reminded of all those years I clinged to them and their music and it makes me smile and laugh and want to cry, and I’m hit with the fact that I can’t bring that time back. And I’m hit with the fact that time doesn’t slow, or stop, or rewind, and those are moments that I didn’t think much of at the time now seem so precious. 

I’m very late for an anniversary of any sort. But when I think of EXO, it’s fondness and childhood and happiness, and for that, I feel thankful.

Happy late anniversary, EXO.