When I was eleven years old, it had taken me a matter of moments to realize that my dream was to become an idol.  It had taken me a matter of weeks to convince my parents to let me audition.  It had taken me a matter of months until I finally felt ready to do so.

But even after numerous hours of vocal practice, singing still wasn’t my forte, to say the least.  The right notes were sometimes a difficulty for me to reach, my voice wavered when I was nervous, and I still couldn’t hold notes for very long.  But idols needed to be to be good at everything, not just dance.  Unfortunately for me, dance was probably the only thing I was actually good at.

I fidgeted in the small folding chair, feeling it creak softly under my weight.  I looked up from my hands and glanced around the small waiting area again.  There were about fifty people backstage, none of which I knew.  However, we all had a common goal: pass auditions and get into SM Entertainment, one of the most prestigious entertainment companies in Korea.

As I picked at the skin around my nails, my nerves on edge, a staff member poked her head backstage and rounded up the next group of ten.  They got up from their chairs, stepping through the heavy curtain that she held open.  Within a minute, I heard the first person begin to sing.

I continued biting my lips in an attempt to prevent myself from shaking in my seat.  It was already late afternoon, and I had been sitting here since 1:00 P.M.  I was already at a disadvantage, since the judge was probably tired after watching a few hundred people sing and dance.  What if I wasn’t good enough compared to the other people who had already auditioned?

My parents had told me that they would continue to support me and my dream even if I failed auditions.  After all, they said, I was only twelve years old, and I didn’t have enough experience.  True, some people auditioned at even younger ages and managed to pass, but that probably wasn’t me.

However, that didn’t stop me from secretly hoping that I was going to be one of those lucky few.

I heard a rock song start up.  The singing portion had finished.  Everyone who auditioned had to sing a part of a song, without the help of background music.  After that, everyone had to dance to a random song they put on.

The song I had prepared in advance was called “That I Was Once By Your Side”.  But since I wasn’t sure whether or not someone else would be singing the one I had chosen, I had prepared another one as backup.  It was a song in English, titled “Only Superstition”.

The music stopped and my head jerked up.  The group would be exiting now.  Those who passed would receive an email from SM within a few days.  No email meant failure.  I bit down on the inside of my cheek as the seconds passed.  I was the third person in the next group that was supposed to go up.

Before I could fully process my thoughts, the staff member was calling us up onstage, and my feet were taking me to the place where she had directed me to stand.  Through my nervousness, I took note of the table where the judge was sitting and the cameras directed at us.  I shifted my feet slightly, trying not to make a sound as my shoes slid against the polished stage floor.  I glanced up, taking note of everyone else who was onstage with me.  To my right was a girl with shoulder length black hair and bangs that covered her eyebrows.  To my left was a boy with close cropped hair and hipster glasses.  Both of them were a head taller than I was and looked at least three years older than me, and I suddenly felt small and insignificant compared to everyone else.  I gulped and tried to focus on taking deep breaths.

The first person down the line had begun to sing.  He had a nicely lilting voice, and the notes seemed to glide through the air.  I recognized the first few lines of “Love Over A Thousand Years” by Park Wankkyu and swallowed nervously as I realized just how good he was.  Then it was over, and the girl to my right began her piece.

My eyes widened as I realized that she was singing the chorus of “That I Was Once By Your Side” and I nearly groaned out loud, realizing I couldn’t use that song now.  As she sang, her eyes closing as her powerful but gentle voice filled the quiet of the auditorium, I dug my nails into the palm of my hand.  She had an amazing voice, one that was even better than that of the boy who had gone before her.  One that was certainly better than mine.

No, Lee Seoyoon.  Don’t compare yourself to everyone else like that.  Don’t you remember what your vocal instructor and your dance instructor told you?  Just focus on your own song and your own audition.  Who cares what everyone else is doing?  Don’t let them discourage you and mess you up.  Just sing the second song you prepared.

“Number three.”  The judge’s voice interrupted my thoughts and I swallowed again, preparing myself.  I ignored him as he

finished scribbling down his comments for the girl before me.  Instead, I looked directly into the camera and took a deep breath.

Come on.  You can do this.  Don’t worry about how those two did.  And then I started to sing.

What if cards don’t go my way?

And it’s sure to spoil my day

But in voices loud and clear you say to me, “It’s only superstition

It’s only your imagination

It’s only all of the things that you fear and the things from which you can’t escape”

Of course, my voice wasn’t comparable to those of Coldplay.  But to my huge relief, my voice didn’t crack on the higher notes, and although it wasn’t as good as the voices of the two before me, it had sounded just as clear and confident.  My English pronunciation was flawless, and the accent that had been present when I had started learning several years ago was no longer there.

The boy with hipster glasses began singing a song I didn’t know, but I wasn’t paying attention anymore.  I glanced down at my shoes again and let out a tiny breath.

You didn’t do that badly, right?  I mean, it could have been a lot worse.  At least you didn’t hit a wrong note or anything, and that’s all that matters.  Besides, this means that the hardest part of the audition’s over.  You only have the dance left.  You’re good at that, right?  It should be easy enough for you.

My previous dance instructor, along with everyone who had ever seen me dance, said I danced like a guy: not flowy and graceful like the girls my age who did ballet or traditional dance, but fluid and powerful.  I had been discouraged at the comments at first because that meant I was different, but with the help of my dance instructor, I embraced it and cultivated my dancing style into something I was proud of.  I was the strongest in hip hop and breakdancing, and it made me stand out from the rest.

I waited as everyone finished singing and those who wanted to sing again did so.  I didn’t really want to.  Singing wasn’t my strongest talent, and after all, the objective behind the audition was to show off my strongest talents.  I decided that I had done well enough so that there was no need for me to repeat my song.  After that was over, the judge started preparing us for the dancing portion.  Everyone would spread out onstage and we would all dance at once, for about thirty seconds.  If the judge thought a person did well, he would ask them to dance again.

“Number three,” I heard.  “Over there to the left.”  I obeyed and took three or four steps to the left.  As he continued to direct the others into position, I took a deep breath and stretched out my arms and neck as discreetly as possible in preparation for what was to come.

You can do this.  This is what you’ve been preparing for, I repeated to myself.  Don’t be nervous.  You can’t afford to be nervous.

The sound of electronic dance music suddenly filled the auditorium and after listening to the beat for a fraction of second, I began to dance, mentally blocking out the judge and the nine other people around me.

I was always nervous when it came to vocals, but usually not with dance.  I looked directly into the camera that was focused on me and gave everything I had, and more.  I did some of the moves that my instructor had taught me and mixed it up with a few that I made up on the spot.  I smirked into the camera, masking everything else I felt at the moment and putting on the most confident facial expression I could manage.

When the music switched off, instead of just stopping abruptly like I sometimes tended to do, I tried my best to end smoothly, staring down the camera and holding my ending pose for a few seconds before returning to my original position.

I bit my lip, my nervousness returning as I watched the judge scribble on the piece of paper.  The auditorium was silent for a few seconds before he looked back up.

“Number three, could you please go to the center and dance again?”

I was torn between smiling and collapsing out of nervousness, but I knew that I couldn’t do either of the two.  Instead, I nodded politely and went to the center of the stage as I was told, my legs feeling like chocolate pudding.  The others went back to their row to make way for me and the judge made eye contact with me.

“Ready?”

I nodded, swallowing for what seemed to be the umpteenth time that day in order to crush my edginess.  Pull yourself together, will you?  There’s no time to be nervous.  He’s gonna be watching you, and that means only you.  Don’t mess this up.

The music began again, and I instantly recognized the song, “The Way I Am” by Eminem.  It happened to be one of the many songs that I had practiced to, and it also happened to be one of my favorites.

I looked into the camera and began to dance again.

More fluidity, I thought to myself as I smirked confidently at the camera for the second time that day.  More power.  More intensity.  Make your movements sharper and stronger.

I pretended I was actually performing onstage, my mind molding the empty chairs into a cheering audience.  I put more charisma into my movements and blocked out the imposing gazes of everyone else in the auditorium.  Even though my nervousness began to return about twenty seconds later, I did my best to maintain my facial expression.

After what seemed like an eternity, the music switched off once again and I struck my finishing pose, silently counting to three before I returned to a standing position, keeping my arms at my side and struggling to hold my head high.

The judge had gone back to his piece of paper and I tentatively returned to my spot among the others in the row.  Silence fell again as the sound of pen on paper filled the empty space.  And then--

“Thank you for coming, everyone.  Next group, please?”

The staff member scurried to usher the next group onstage and another staff member escorted our group offstage.  Once offstage, I felt my legs give way and I stumbled slightly as I tried to recollect myself.  After I had regained my composure and quelled my anxiety, I walked back into the waiting room and reached into my bag to get my phone.  I headed out the building with everyone else and put the phone to my ear.

“Umma?  I’m done with my audition.  You can come pick me up now.”

As soon as I stepped into the car ten minutes later, I was bombarded with questions from Sungmin.

“Seoyoon-ah!  How did it go?  Were there a lot of people there?  Did the judges like you?  Do you think you’ll pass?  When will--”

“Sungmin,” my mom scolded, giving him a look from the rearview mirror.  “Calm down and don’t ask so many questions at a time.”

“Yeah, Sungmin,” I muttered.  I leaned forward in my seat and handed the phone to her.  “Here’s Appa’s phone back.”

“Thank you, Seoyoon-ah.”  She set the phone on the passenger seat and concentrated on the road again.  “Just to let you know, we’re gonna go pick up Sungjin from his afterschool, and then, we’re gonna get takeout food.  Is there anything you want in particular?”

I shook my head and said no.  To be honest, I wasn’t hungry at all, but I didn’t tell her that.

“So anyways, how was it?”  She stopped at a red light and looked back at me.

I shrugged.

“I don’t know.  I mean, I guess I did okay.  I don’t know though.”

“You only did okay?”  Sungmin looked at me with wide eyes.

“Well, I think I did okay on vocals.”

“Your voice didn’t crack?”

“Nope.  Thank God for that,” I sighed.  “I guess I just got lucky.  It usually cracks when I get nervous.”

“How was the dancing portion then?”  Sungmin leaned forward eagerly.  “Do you think they liked it?”

“Well, there’s no telling whether or not they liked it.  But the judge asked me to dance again, so I guess that means that it got his attention at least.”  I paused.  “Or maybe I was too far to the left so he only asked me to do it again because he couldn’t see me clearly first time.”  My face paled as the thought entered my head.

“No, I don’t think so.  Your dancing’s pretty hard to miss, just saying.  Don’t worry about it,” Sungmin said cheerfully, reaching over and ruffling my long, wavy hair.

I made a face and shook his hand off.  I looked out the window and watched the other cars pass by, wrapped up in my own thoughts as I reflected on the audition.

“Seoyoon-ah, you’ll be able to audition again in a year if you feel like you still want to do this,” I heard my mom say kindly.  “The past is in the past.  There’s nothing you can do now.  If they liked you, then you’ll get an email from them and that means you passed.  If they don’t email you, well, that means you didn't pass.  You’ll get another chance.”

“Umma, why is it that Seoyoon gets to audition?  I thought that I told you that I want to audition too,” Sungmin sulked.  “I’m two years older than her, why does she get to audition and I don’t?

“Sungmin-ah, we’ve already discussed this, haven’t we?  You’re not making enough improvement in school.  When your grades are as high as Seoyoon’s grades, then we’ll let you audition too,” my mom said in a patient voice.

“But she’s only twelve and her schoolwork isn’t nearly as hard as mine’s is.”

“Sungmin, you’re being ridiculous,” I scoffed.  "That makes no sense."

He pouted and folded his arms.

“Does too,” he muttered.  The car was silent for several seconds but then he spoke upagain.  “But anyways, I hope you got in.  You’ve practicing day and night these past few months and I think you deserve it.”

I tore my eyes away from the window and looked back at him, giving him a small smile.

I hope so too, Sungmin, I thought.  Then I went back to looking out the window.  We drove past a billboard of a boy group called Shinhwa advertising a brand of soju, and I bit my lip nervously.  I really hope so.