~For your full reading pleasure, please read the following story alongside the songs provided~

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The Swing Phenomenon

 

I. Bad Boy, Good Man

 

Yongsun held herself closely as she stepped down the dark staircase. It smelled like stale beer, sweat, and shades of perfumes and drugs. The smoke swallowed her up in a cloud and she coughed and cringed. To avoid eye contact, she stared down at her Mary Janes, and hoped the address Hyejin gave her was correct.

 

At the bottom of the stairway, she was greeted with a solid black door, crowded with people pushing in and out. She looked down at her simple, white dress, then at the men and women milling about in T-shirts and plaid, and wondered if she’d gotten the wrong memo. She quickly flipped open her purse and pulled out the business card Hyejin had given her.

 

The card’s black finish and elegant silver letters presented the words “Club Stellar.” Surely, she thought as she finally took a step through the black door, she had the wrong address. But her phone had led her here. She had spent nearly an hour planning her route and spamming Hyejin about the address. She had never been comfortable with clubs, much less one so secretive.

 

Her heart thumped as she wandered through the narrow corridor. Why was it so damn dark down here? She thought, apologizing for what must’ve been the millionth time she’d bumped into somebody. There were so many doors leading to so many hallways—the place was a labyrinth.  

 

“Yongsun-unnie!”

 

Yongsun heard a voice, just as she was starting to think about her warm blankets and the backlog of dramas waiting for her back home, and felt a tap on her shoulder. She spun around to see Hyejin grinning at her.

 

“Oh thank goodness,” Yongsun breathed, embracing her like a long lost lover. After the panic subsided, she pulled away and eyed her friend's very short fringed black dress, and white feather boa. “Hyejin-ah, what are you wearing?”

 

“Oh this?” Hyejin said, touching the feather in her black headband. “Wheeinie found it at a vintage store. Isn’t it cute?”

 

“No. I mean, yes, it’s cute, but your dress!”

 

But Hyejin just laughed and said, “It’s fine, it’s fine.”

 

Yongsun sighed, knowing the girl wouldn’t listen to her even if she paid her. And fighting her was the last thing on her mind as people pushed her to and fro--she must've received several lifetime's worth of curses for standing in the middle of the hallway. “Okay,” she said, “just take me there before I end up going home.”

 

Hyejin reached up and pinched her cheeks, “Aww! You’re sulking, unnie! C’mon, I’ll even let you hold my hand as long as you remember to let go when we get there.” She picked up Yongsun’s hand and began navigating her through the traffic as she spoke. “I don’t want to be in the doghouse with Wheeinie again. Last time you got upset and clung to me, she kept doing that thing where she’d talk to Ggomo about how terrible I am. Then she denied me cuddles for like two hours. I can’t do it, unnie. You gotta think about me once in awhile too, dammit.”

 

Yongsun nodded as Hyejin continued on about her girlfriend. She half-listened, half-wondered if she could ever find somebody as crazy about her as Hyejin was about Wheein. Hyejin used to be one of the most serious girls she knew when they met in university. It took a long time to get to know her, but imagine her surprise the first time she witnessed Wheein melting that cold-hearted warrior facade with just a look. It wasn’t even a meaningful look. One glance and Hyejin would go running like a well-trained housecat. They’d been together for almost as long as Yongsun has known them, but they still acted like every day was the first day of their honeymoon.

 

Damn, Yongsun hated them sometimes. She should be used to it by now, but the truth was that she hated third-wheeling. There was a time when they tried to set her up to go on double dates with them, but that never worked out. They had terrible taste in women for some reason, and seemed oblivious to the fact that Yongsun had no interest in men no matter how many times she brought it up.

 

The only perk with Hyejin and Wheein was that they were never in the same place at one time, so she never knew what to expect when they ask her to tag along. The adventure was better than sitting at home and binging on dramas. At least, that’s what Yongsun tried to convince herself. There were some nights, like tonight, where maybe sitting at home and watching dramas didn’t seem like such a bad option, especially when Hyejin pulled her through a pair of black doors with “Club Stellar” marked over the frame in red spray paint. Yongsun was damn ready to protest the suspicious decor and go home.

 

Once inside, however, the thought quickly dissipated.

 

White chiselled columns and red velvet curtains framed the live band and its instruments: a xylophone, a tuba, trumpets, saxophones, a synthesizer, a pair of drums, and a small orchestra of stringed instruments. There were more wires and cables pouring out than your average rock concert—a stark contrast to the finely dressed row of singers lining centre stage. Collared waiters with slicked-back hair weaved through the crowd with martinis for the well-dressed patrons in their suits, hats, and colourful dresses. She was more than convinced, despite the modern instruments, that she was no longer in Seoul, no longer in the hustle and bustle of the modern era.

 

The air was electric with the beat of the bass, the bouncing melodies, the thrill of the singers scatting away, and the excited chatter of the crowd. There were people standing with drinks in their hand, and people on the dance floor, drinks long forgotten.

 

“The night’s just getting started,” Hyejin said, gesturing toward the bar. “Ah, there’s Wheein.” She shook off Yongsun’s hand then, and nearly ran to embrace Wheein, who looked so elegant and at ease with her appletini and long red dress. Yongsun watched from afar as Wheein yelped at the sudden force crashing into her back, but happily leaned Hyejin's embrace. She twisted around to meet her girlfriend's eager lips, and Yongsun knew that any hope of getting their attention now was lost forever.

 

Yongsun sighed and, grabbing a martini from one of the passing waiters, decided to do what she usually did: stand in the corner and watch other people dance. At least the music was enjoyable--she could hardly stop her knees from bouncing along--and everyone was significantly less drunk. But best of all, the dancing was mesmerizing. Couples of all shapes and sizes jived to the same rhythm on the dance floor—one, two, three-four five; one, two, three-four-five—yet no two couples moved in the same way. The way they stepped their feet and swung their arms was so wild, yet so coordinated. So unpredictable, yet they always seemed to know exactly where their partner was going to be.

 

She watched Wheein drag Hyejin to the dance floor minutes later. Hyejin held her partner by the waist, and offered her hand with a wide smile. They went back and forth, left to right, the steps so quick and complex, yet so perfectly synchronized that Yongsun had to wonder if they were sharing the same heartbeat.

 

“Hello.”

 

Yongsun whipped around. She hadn’t expected anyone to notice her in this dim room, standing by the wall and away from sight. fell open as she gawked at the tall woman before her in a navy suit and silver tie, chest puffed in all confidence. “M-me?” she said. She swallowed at the sight of the outstretched fingers and the glowing, handsome smile. “Would you care to dance?” the woman asked.

 

Yongsun shook her head and waved her hands. “I-I can’t dance!” she cried, a little too loudly in her panic.

 

The woman chuckled. “Anyone can dance with Moonbyul,” she said with a wink. “C’mon. First dance with me is always free, especially for a pretty lady like you.” She doffed her white hat with her free hand, her other patiently waiting to receive Yongsun’s reply.

 

Yongsun cringed a little. Moonbyul was attractive—more than attractive—but she was torn. Could she really let these cheesy lines win her over? She glanced down at her hand, then up into her twinkling eyes.

 

“They’re about to play my song,” Moonbyul said. “Just follow me.”

 

 

Yongsun pictured herself walking away, going home and curling up alone with her dog as the rest of the world fell into pairs and felt their souls come alive. She pictured herself waiting the rest of her life for another beautiful stranger to find her, lost and stranded among the sea of colours. She pictured never feeling this electric thrill coursing through her body again.

 

 

Without another thought, she slipped her hand into Moonbyul’s, loosely curling her fingers over the side of Moonbyul’s index finger. As if on cue, the

band started counting down in hushed tones: one, two, three!

 

Moonbyul led her to the dance floor, and, pressing her palm into the small of her back, eased her into her rhythm. Step, step, in, out, side, side—it was almost too easy moving alongside Moonbyul.

 

I’m a bad boy — I need to dance

 

If I don’t dance no romance

 

Moonbyul threw open her arms, spun her back in, and took her into a skip and a trot, grinning as she sped up. Yongsun met her eyes—she was too close, and she had no idea what she was doing, but somehow, it felt alright. More than alright. Their hearts seemed to beat as one. Their souls entwined. She didn't question the feeling of surrendering to this stranger's every will, didn't question how easy it was to fall in sync with her every move.

 

Feel like dancing dance with me

 

First dance is always free.

 

Just when Yongsun thought it was over, Moonbyul reeled her in for a kiss on a cheek, then, extending her arm, she led her away and let go. “Watch me,” she mouthed. Yongsun blinked, surprised by how cold her hands suddenly were. But when she looked out over the dance floor, a different kind of warmth began to spread through her.

 

Her steps, the way she moved her arms, it was unlike anything Yongsun had ever seen. The woman was a masterpiece when she danced, commanding everyone's attention as she began burning up the dance floor on her own. Every couple stopped and stared as she moved, cheering and chanting her name like they’d done it their whole lives. Who the hell was she? Yongsun wondered.

 

As if to answer her thoughts, Hyejin sidled up beside her and whispered, “You danced with Moonbyul, eh?” Yongsun couldn’t peel her eyes off the woman under the spotlight. All she could do was nod.

 

“She’s here every week,” Hyejin continued.

 

“I can see hearts coming out of your eyes,” she heard Wheein tease. “Don’t do it, unnie.”

 

“Yeah, she never dances with the same girl twice, if you know what I mean.”

 

The music slowed, and, in perfect time, Moonbyul twirled, posed, and bowed—but not before sending Yongsun a wink.

 

“Unnie, are you whimpering? Jeez, how can you fall for something so greasy?” someone said somewhere.

 

Yongsun took a step forward to meet Moonbyul on the dance floor. She didn’t know what to say, but she wanted to at least thank her for the dance, but the crowd flooded back onto the dance floor and she was gone. Her fists clenched by her side—there was something about the way they danced together, she couldn’t have been the only one who felt it right?

 

“Yongsun-unnie!” Someone shouted, grabbing her shoulder.

 

Yongsun gasped, as she spun around to see her friends watching her with concerned eyes. “Are you okay?” Hyejin asked. “We called your name like a thousand times.”

 

Yongsun shook her head. “I’m fine. Did you see where Moonbyul went off to?”

 

Wheein sighed, stepped out of Hyejin’s arm around her waist, and gave Yongsun a warm hug. “You’re not gonna see her again, unnie. I’m telling you.”

 

“But you said she comes every week,” Yongsun insisted.

 

“Yeah, but she never dances with the same girl,” Hyejin said, rolling her eyes. “And she always disappears after the dance. Hits em' and quits em', y'know? That’s what we’re trying to tell you. Moonbyul’s cool as hell--we get it--but she’s a smug bag of . Don’t even think about it, Yongsun.”

 

Yongsun stood on her toes and scanned the room once more, but Hyejin was right--not a wisp of silver hair in sight. She sighed, her heart so heavy that she didn’t even have the energy to berate Hyejin for her rudeness. Suddenly, she didn’t want to stay around anymore. “I’m going to go home and catch up on my dramas,” she declared, heading for the door.

 

“Unnie, it’s only 10 o’ clock!” Hyejin yelled after her.

 

“Don’t be like that!” Wheein whined. “Unnniiiieeeeee!”

 

But Yongsun was gone.

 

II. Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen

 

Three weeks since her first visit, Yongsun was more than ready to find her closure and give up on Moonbyul forever. She was tired of remembering the way their bodies moved together, tired of wondering if she was the only one who felt the resonance.

 

 

Hyejin and Wheein had moved on from Club Stellar, and, true to the rumours, Moonbyul never looked at her again. She could’ve sworn she felt her eyes each time, but whenever she looked over her shoulder, she always found herself alone.

 

 

The only time she ever saw Moonbyul was on the dance floor, moving in ways beyond her comprehension. The band played her song almost every night—and Yongsun was always there, torturing herself just to see her one more time. Everytime Yongsun wanted to put an end to whatever she was feeling for the other woman, the sight of her dancing always brought her back to the first night.

 

God, why did she have to be so incredible?

 

This was her fourth visit and her last. She wasn’t going to let the glint of her eyes, the flow of her body, and the comfort of her warmth haunt her anymore. She couldn’t. Moonbyul was just a stranger, after all. This obsession was just ridiculous.

 

Yongsun stood in the same spot she always did, standing on her tiptoes and looking out for the silver hair and the navy suit as she always did. She watched the couples on the floor, and drummed her fingers to the rhythm. By now, some of the songs were even becoming familiar to her. She grabbed a martini from a passing waiter and downed it in a single gulp. One martini followed another. Then another. Then another.

 

The room was quiet as she downed her fifth drink. Something soft was starting up--Yongsun smiled in recognition as a woman’s voice filled the room.

 

Until I first met you, I was lonesome

 

And when you came in sight, dear, my heart grew light

 

And this old world seemed new to me

 

Suddenly, all she felt was the music, nothing but the drums, the strings, and the piano thrumming their soft notes into her tapping feet. The words pushed her over like a crashing wave as the song picked up.

 

Yongsun mumbled along with the lyrics. “Bah mirrrr bisdushaaaain,” she drawled under her breath as she stepped to the music. She imagined Moonbyul guiding her as she spun across the floor. Imagined her smile as she held her close. There were people everywhere and nameless noise, but she couldn’t care less as she let the singer's voice possess her.

 

Each beat bloomed through her body. She swung her arms, swung her legs, anything to feel more of the music—anything to dance. She had to dance.

 

Bei mir… please let me explain

 

…. means you're grand

 

Bei …. schoen, again ...explain

 

It means you're ...

 

Yongsun couldn’t remember when the music faded away completely—she could’ve sworn she could still hear it. “So kiss me and say that you will understand,” she sang quietly, waving a hand in the air.

 

“Maybe when you don’t taste like vomit,” a voice nearby laughed.

 

Something warm lowered her waving arm, and gently laid her hand on her stomach. But it wasn’t until Yongsun moved her head that she realized that she was horizontal, and her head was pulsing pain every time she so much as breathed, and her whole body felt sore. Did she run a marathon while she was pissed drunk? No. Wait. Something clicked. Something was resurfacing.

 

It was worse. Much, much worse. She remembered drinking those martinis, then staggering toward the dance floor, and--

 

 

She shot up from her seat.

 

“OW!”

 

“F—!”

 

Her forehead had slammed right into something hard, and she immediately rolled over and fell onto something scratchy. “Oh god, I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, apologizing to whatever she’d hit as she rubbed her forehead. Everything hurt.

 

“It’s...it’s fine.”

 

Yongsun opened her eyes, and immediately dropped her hand as she suddenly lost her ability to breathe properly. She rubbed her eyes just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

 

 

Moonbyul.

 

 

She was sitting on a run-down leather couch in just a T-shirt and sweatpants, rubbing her chin and trying to readjust her jaw. She was pretty sure it was Moonbyul, anyway. She wore these huge circular frames, and her silver hair was swept into a messy ponytail on one side, and the way she carried herself now, huddled into the corner of her couch--she was nothing like the cool and confident woman she had known. But Yongsun had to ask.

 

Moonbyul laughed bitterly. “Yeah, it’s me. Didn’t want you to see me like this, but you were kicking up a huge fuss down there. They were gonna kick you out, but then you just started crying for me and nobody knew what to do,” she said, sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck. “I saw it all from up here, so I went down to get you.”

 

 

"Oh god," Yongsun mumbled into her palms. "I'm so sorry."

 

 

Moonbyul smirked a little, but quickly caught herself and looked away. "It's okay. You weren't very heavy. It was cute though, the way you clung to my neck and all." She rubbed her arm, wincing visibly as she mumbled, "Ugh, that was so greasy. What am I saying?"

 

Yongsun blushed and met Moonbyul's eyes for just a moment before they both looked away. In the thick of the awkwardness, she glanced around for the first time. The room was cramped with boxes, clothing, and machinery, and she found herself tripping over and falling backwards as soon as she spun around. Fortunately, a pair of warm arms caught her, and dragged her back onto the old couch before she could hurt herself.

 

“This is the lighting room,” Moonbyul said, nervously gesturing to the window overlooking the stage. “I...I work here. Sorta, kinda live here too until I...figure it out, yknow?”

 

She couldn’t help but blush under Yongsun’s intense stare, and shifted away as she looked down at her hands.

 

“W-What is it?” Moonbyul asked, her eyes darting quickly to meet Yongsun’s. “L-look, I’m sorry if I...did anything wrong. I'm not exactly...ugh, what am I even saying. Let me get you some water.”

 

Moonbyul placed her palms on her knees, but just as she was about to stand, she felt a hand grip onto her wrist, freezing her in place. She slid her eyes over at Yongsun, but they quickly darted away at the sight of her glare.

 

When Yongsun finally spoke, she only gripped Moonbyul’s wrist tighter. “So,” she said, “You see everything from up here?”

 

Moonbyul nodded stiffly.

 

“And you remember me,” Yongsun said with a pout, "don't you?"

 

She nodded once more and hung her head. “Of course,” she whispered. “I remember everyone I dance with. Especially if they keep coming back and asking about me.” She sent Yongsun a small smile to ease the tension, but Yongsun seemed perfectly apathetic to Moonbyul’s discomfort as her eyes continue to burn.

 

“Then why didn’t you ask me to dance again?” Yongsun’s voice was sweet, but there was something sad and angry laced into it.

 

Moonbyul shrugged. “Most girls don’t really come back after I ignore them once or twice. I like it that way,” she said with that damn sad smile again. “They never realize that I’m just a weirdo living in a club. I’m not Moonbyul. Not really. No matter what I do, the only person I can really be is just Byulyi.”

 

“Okay, but,” Yongsun said, rubbing her eyes with her thumb and forefinger, “the time we danced together. You felt it right? The way our hearts swung in time with the music? Even though I’ve never done any swing dance before, I—”

 

Before she could finish her sentence, the couch springs squeaked as Byulyi whipped around and clasped her hands on Yongsun’s shoulder. “You’ve never swing danced before?” she said in disbelief. “H-how did you...that’s impossible. You...you followed me perfectly.”

 

Yongsun blushed a little as she peeled Byulyi’s hands off her shoulder and held them in her lap. She looked up and held Byulyi’s incredulous expression with a wide grin. “So you did feel it then,” she said. “Good.”

 

She could hear the faint thump of the bass and a particularly lively piano riff from the main stage below. One, two, three-four-five. One, two, three-four-five. Beyond the music, she felt Byulyi’s heart beating as if it were her own as she pulled her in by the wrist and kissed her gently. A distant melody seeped into her memory as their lips met for the first time.

 

“I've tried to explain, bei mir bist du schon,” Yongsun sang quietly, “so kiss me and say that you will understand.”

 

Yongsun let her go then, and smiled at the sight of Byulyi’s half-shut eyes and half-open lips. Her face, tinged with pink, blew up into crimson when she realized she was being watched.

 

“I...I...you...this is crazy,” Byulyi breathed, gathering her bangs in a fist. “I’m telling you, I’m just a kid living—”

 

Yongsun sighed. “I’m telling you something, Byulyi. How many languages do you want me to speak? Or do you only understand the language of dance?” Without waiting for a response, she pulled Byulyi up by the arms, ignoring the bite of her hangover. Byulyi straightened her back as soon as she felt Yongsun’s open palm pressing into the curve of her spine.

 

They couldn’t hear the music anymore, but there was something else now. Yongsun couldn’t put a finger on it as she led Byulyi in a dance to the song in her head. Step, step, in, out, left, right. Byulyi didn’t look away this time—it was as if the world had fallen away, and it was just the two of them on that sparkling dance floor again. Nothing else mattered to Yongsun except their interconnected hands and the rhythm in their feet, and the way Byulyi’s eyes caught hers  and the way her smile would grow whenever she spun her back around.

 

Finally, Byulyi switched the position of her hand, leading Yongsun into a twirl. Yongsun spun, and let herself fell backwards into Byulyi’s strong arms, where she felt the rise and fall of Byulyi’s breathing against her back.

 

Long moments passed, and Yongsun barely managed to wipe the silly grin off her face by the time Byulyi turned her around to face her. She could hear her heart beating in her ears at the sight of Byulyi’s pink cheeks and boyish grin. Could feel the dizzying joy of discovery as Byulyi gripped her hands in her own.

 

“I don’t think I ever got your name,” Byulyi said, shyly swinging their interlocked hands from side to side.

 

“My name is Kim Yongsun,” she replied. She smiled so hard her cheeks were beginning to hurt.

 

“Well, Miss Yongsun, do you think you can do me the honour of going out with me? I...I want to show you every side of me and...hopefully you’ll think they’re great too?”

 

Yongsun pulled her closer, and closed the distance between them once more, basking in the way their hearts soared to the beat of their own music. It was the beginning of a song waiting to be composed, and—even if they didn’t know it right then—they felt it all in those first notes.  

 

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A/N: Hello everyone, and thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the music along with this fic! I've always been a fan of swing music (in particular electro-swing) so I was really excited to actually try taking a class. Some of you might know that I was super sick yesterday, but decided I MUST DANCE! anyway. So now I have something to show for it! (My swing dance fantasy). 

Other references:

Club Stellar is a nod to one of the most prominent figures of electro-swing, Parov Stelar. Other club names I had in mind were Club des Belugas (excellent artist), Caravan Palace (too obvious, but a great group nonetheless), and Dixie Biscuit (a really weird yet charming song by The Tape Five)

The title comes from The Swing Phenomena by Bart & Baker (great group)

As usual, please feel free to comment below or send me a message. If you've got any recommendations, I'd be super excited to hear them!

Edit: Since posting this story, the power of moonsun and swing has compelled Arshuckle to write a cute little piece called "The St James Ballroom." Please check it out here!