[17]

 

Belonging

 

'And so, I'm back.' I thought to myself, shaking my head as the plane landed. My 2 week vacation not only got ruined by 10 crazy Korean pop stars but ended with me declaring to the world that I will own own the music industry. As I thought back about that, I finally realized...What the Hell was I thinking?

 

"Min Hee, passport." My cousin said as he held his hand out. We were going through customs then. I didn't say a word to him but gave him the book anyways. When the lady asked how long I was staying, my cousin replied "permanently" and handed her a few custody sheets.

 

I wasn't planning on staying permanently, of course not. The second I turned 16, I would simply drag my back to America where it belonged.

 

America, that's right. That's where I belonged.

 

More than enough fans had gathered to scream their asses off for these five idiots. If it wasn't for the fact that their screaming blew my eardrums away, I felt sorry for them. Not because they would end up losing their voices but because no matter how loud they screamed, SS501 had prepared earplugs for this occasion.

 

Once again, I felt the presence of cameras around me. This time, not only paparazzi but fans and other on lookers as well. Young Saeng however, was too far ahead to help. For each click that went off, my tolerance level dropped. I was seconds away from snapping their cameras in half.

 

As the pressure was building up, I had realized that I was slowing down. Hyung Joon looked back at me and backed up to take my hand in his and pulled me to catch up.

 

When we got to the van, it wasn't surprising that there were more cameras. But Baby pulled me into the van before I was able to do anything.

 

For 30 minutes, the only thing I said to them was, "Where are we going?" when I realized we were no where near the dorm.

 

"Vacation's over Min Hee. From today onwards, you'll be training." Hyun Joong spoke. 

 

"You can't do that to me, I have to go to school." I countered. He then gave me a look I didn't want to see. 

 

One word. "Homeschool."

 

---

 

"Sing a song for me." The lady said when vocal training commenced.

 

"Why?" I asked. Of course I knew why. I just didn't want to do it. I made a vow to myself from the second I stepped into the DSP building that I would give these people the worst time they'd ever experience until they were forced to kick me out.

 

"Have you ever taken vocal lessons before?" Oh, so now we were playing 101 questions.

 

"Maybe, maybe not." I told her in return, "Does it matter?"

 

"Won't you just sing one little verse for me?" She pleaded.

 

"Fine." and so I began singing.

 

~Go stop the show

Choppy words and a sloppy flow

Shotgun opera lock and load

it back and then watch it go

 

Mama help me I've been cursed

Death is rolling in every verse

Candy paint on his brand new hearse

Can't contain him he knows he works

 

this hurts, I won't lie

Doesn't matter how hard I try

Half the words don't mean a thing

And I know that I wont be satisfied

 

So why try ignoring him

Make it a dirt dance floor again

Say your prayers and stomp it out

When they bring that chorus in

 

[Chorus]

I bleed it out digging deeper

Just to throw it away

I bleed it out digging deeper

Just to throw it away

I bleed it out digging deeper

Just to throw it away

Just to throw it away

Just to throw it away

I bleed it out~

 

When I finished my little solo performance, the lady gave me an incredulous look. Her eyes were wide in shock and I couldn't help but laugh at that. For the rest of the three hours, I simply took a nap with my earphones plugged in. It was always good to have a variety of music knowledge, who had ever thought that screamo would be of use one day.

 

At the end of a very productive vocal training session, the manager came to pick me up and checked on my progress.

 

"Are you ready to go?" He asked as I stood up.

 

"I was ready 4 hours ago." I mumbled as I got out of the room, I heard him ask the lady about my progress but I simply just wanted to get home and sleep.

 

"You're still off key!" I heard a voice shout from down the hall. I went down to find SS501 in their own vocal session.

 

"I can't help it, my voice doesn't go that high." Hyung Joon protested. He was rubbing his throat in pain while the instructor was simply sitting there, scribbling on his clipboard.

 

Hyun Joong stepped inot the conversation then. "Young Saeng, can you hit that note?" Young Saeng nodded and sang a really high note with accuracy and solidity. "Hyung, can't we just switch the part to Young Saeng then?"

 

The instructor shook his head. "Maknae can hit it. Go again." Before the note was even able to come out of Baby's mouth, he clutched his throat in pain. The sound he made came out squeaky.

 

"Joon, stop." I commanded upon instinct. All eyes were on me when I enterred the room. I ignored the vocal instructor who was glaring at me. I put my fingertips to the area of his throat where the vocal chords were located, it was burning. "Did you lead them through a proper warm up?" I asked the man who looked about 30. He didn't reply so I took matters into my own hands. "Sing up a scale." I told Joon.

 

Sure enough, I wasn't imagining it. His high notes cracked and I had him stop immediately. "We have to go see a doctor." I turned to the others and told them to each take turns singing up the same scale. Nothing, not yet anyways. If I hadn't noticed sooner, they would've been ruined as well. I turned to the vocal coach. "If anything is damaged in his chords, I guarantee it. You weill never work as a singer in your life again." I grabbed Joon's hand and led him to the front and the nearest doctor's office.

 

Sure enough, his vocal chords were intensely damaged but nothing they couldn't fix. The doctor made him stop all vocal activites for a month.

 

"How'd you know?" Joon asked as we rode the taxi back to the dormitory.

 

“I took vocal lessons as a child.” I replied.

 

“That’s not all, is it?” He asked as we stepped into the apartment.

 

“I…the same thing happened to me before.” He stared into my eyes as I continued. “But I didn’t check up in time. I got the surgery and for 3 years, I was unable to speak. It was then that I gave up singing forever. Or…that’s what I thought.”

 

“I want to hear you sing.” He told me. “You belong here as a singer Min Hee. You always did.”

 

“I don’t want to belong here.” I replied.

 

“You belong anywhere you want to be. ‘Belonging is longing to be.’” He said as he held my face.

 

“You shouldn’t be talking right now, your throat—“

 

“Can I say one more thing?”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m sorry. And…I love you. Not the money. Just you.” With that, he pressed his lips to mine and all it took was three simple words for me to give my heart out to him again.

 

---

September 2nd, 2010

 

Belonging

 

Longing to be.