In the elevator, I exhale and punch the button on my my ribcage yet again. The familiar constricting sensation returns. I huff and wait impatiently for the doors to open on the ground floor.

Unexpectedly, the doors open just a few floors down.

“Oh, Minho hyung!” Bobby bows immediately upon seeing me.

“Ah, annyeong~ What are you doing here? I thought you had practice today.”

“I forgot something, so I came back and got it,” he explains. Looking at my gear bag, he his head curiously. “Are you going to the gym?”

“Ani, I’m going to try out for Cool Kiz: Taekwondo Returns,” I reply, grinning.

“Seriously? I love that show!” he exclaims. “But hyung, aren’t you too good for them? They won’t take you, will they?”

“Probably not,” I admit. “But we shall see.”

***

The waiting area is packed. All around me I see people of varying ages. The group of elderly taekwondo practitioners from the previous Cool Kiz taekwondo episode seem to have occupied the far corner of the lobby. There are a few families scattered about, a few teenagers, and a fair amount of men and women Shin Minho’s age.

Finding a patch of unused wall, I sit down and lean back, closing my eyes. The clamor of voices is dizzying but somehow exhilarating.

Listening to the banality of mundane conversations is one of my favorite pastimes. Sure, I love listening to my brothers argue and talk about assault rifles or gang logistics or whatever, but sometimes a girl craves a little vanilla. The blandness is almost intoxicating; I hallucinate sometimes, thinking about what life would be like if my greatest concern was where to get lunch, or if I would get home in time to catch the latest episode of a TV show.

“Yeobo, I didn’t have time to feed the dog. Can you do that on your lunch break? I’m with the kids at the Cool Kiz audition right now.”

“Eomma, he’s the same age as me!”

“Wrap your knee before going in. You don’t want to injure it again. I don’t know why you’re insisting on doing this when you’ve just gotten better.”

I smile, ruefully. Sounds familiar.

 “161? Shin Minho?” someone calls.

Finally.

I enter the room, a spring in my step, and bow to the panel.

“Annyeonghaseyo, Shin Minho-ibnida.”

“Wow, you look like a Hallyu star,” Hodong remarks.

I laugh and bow again, acting modest. “You’re too kind.”

“We’ll jump right in, shall we?” Yeonwoo suggests.

“Minho-ssi, it says here that you’re highly certified,” Feeldog says. “As you know, Cool Kiz is for ordinary people who excel at arts and exercise. Your resume makes it apparent that you are no ordinary person when it comes to martial arts.”

“Feeldog is right. Unfortunately, we won’t be able to take you on as part of our team, though we would love to,” John Park says reluctantly. “In fact, I’m not sure how your resume was given to us, but we’re glad to meet you.”

My crestfallen expression, sincere for once, seems to jar them slightly. Hodong starts a little, as if to console me.

“Minho-ssi, could you demonstrate a bit?” Julien asks. “I’d love to spar with you, too, MMA style.”

“You and me?” I laugh. “You’re incredibly large. Only if you promise to pull your punches!” Bouncing a few times on the balls of my feet, I grin and do an aerial backflip, landing lightly, without the resounding thud Jackson is so prone to. More like a gentle thwack on the mats in the room.

Oohs and aahs ensue.

“A more taekwondo-specific skill?” Feeldog prompts.

“Hmm...” I pretend to ponder. “Something like this?”

Grinning cheekily, I execute a 540-degree kick.

“I think that’s proof enough that you’re too good,” Chansung notes.

“Just out of curiosity, why did you apply? Our application clearly says we are looking for someone who didn’t get continue with taekwondo,” Hoya asks.

“I love Cool Kiz,” I admit. “It was my dream to participate on the show, and also on Dream Team 2. Since I’m an ordinary civilian, this was my only chance.”

“Are you involved with the entertainment industry in any way, Minho-ssi?” Hodong asks.

“I’m currently training an idol group for their Gayo Daejun stage,” I disclose. “Other than that, nothing.”

“Well, good luck with everything!” They cheer me on.

Bowing, I turn to head out. Off to the side, a writer signals for a break.

Before I can exit, Julien calls out.

“Minho-ssi, let’s spar!”

I turn and see him getting up.

“Off-camera, just a little fun,” he assures me. “Are you up for a bout?”

I nod. “Mais bien sûr. (But of course.)” The language I haven’t spoken in years is nonetheless natural to me. The words roll easily off my tongue and it is only by virtue of strenuous training that I maintain my appearance.

“Eh? Parlez-vous français? (Do you speak French?)”

“Oui, un petit peu. (Yes, a little bit.)”

Side by side, we limber up as the cast watches curiously. I do a couple of backsprings and cartwheels, glad to utilize the wide, padded space and get a few moments of fun in.

“Go gentle on me,” I mock-beg. I bet he’s like a train when he gets moving. Hard to stop, but you can see him coming from a mile away.

“I’m rusty,” he reassures me. “Don’t worry, it’ll be an easy match.”

I whip my leg through the air once, twice. My clothes flap in the artificial breeze.

“I’ll referee,” Hoya offers. Chansung and Feeldog come up behind him and observe, fascinated. The rest of the cast members follow, including Hodong, who has finished his conversation.

I lock eyes with Julien. Damn, he’s tall. And big. I can’t let him grab me.

A subtle eye movement gives him away. I duck low as his tree trunk of a leg comes whistling through the space where my torso was. Before he can follow through and return to his stable stance, I rise and twist, slamming my foot into his other side, high on his torso. The move brings me almost into a split, as I aim for a spot that makes him easily droppable.

Sure enough, the kick unbalances him and he lands hard on his side, letting out a huff of breath. Yikes.

He gets up quickly enough. His eyes are filled with admiration, a little bit of healthy intimidation, and plenty of competitive spirit. “I don’t need to pull my punches, do I?” he remarks. “More like you need to pull yours.”

I chuckle. “Just some gentle sparring. Continue?”

He nods.

This time, I duck under his leg and come up beside him, sending a punch into his unguarded torso. His breath comes out with a whoosh and I dance back, then finish off with a strong kick to his diaphragm as he attempts to grab me. He falls backwards this time.

“Again,” he says.

I drop him two more times. Once, a kick to the shoulder that really could have been the head, but I didn’t think sparring should be intense for me to have to break out the mid-air moves. He was really too tall. Second, three punches in succession to his abdomen, and a turn kick to the side.

“You’re really something,” he acknowledges, impressed. “I’m honored that you sparred with me.”

A tad out of breath, I bow. “The honor was mine.” , I’m out of shape.

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

To: Shin Minho-hyung

From: Namjoon

            Hyung, where are you? We just got to the studio. Seungdeuk-hyung says we should practice for the Gayo Daejun piece, but the kids are asking where you are and we’re arguing about the proper form for the kicks and stuff...

To: Namjoon

From: Shin Minho-hyung

Araso. Be right there.

***

“Mian,” I apologize to BTS once I arrive. I spent a little too long chatting with the cast of Cool Kiz. Their encouragement, though blind to the true nature of my capabilities, had salved the wounds created by the rejection.

“Hyung!” Taehyung cheers excitedly. Jungkook grins alongside.

Everyone else clamors for a moment, approaching me and bowing.

 “Remind me to film the steps for you all at the end of this session. Next time, don’t argue, just watch the video.” I strip off my jacket and stretch a bit.

Against my will, my gaze is drawn to Hoseok oppa. Even though they’ve barely started to practice, his hair is slick with sweat already.

“Alright everyone. Positions!”

The session goes well. The boys are fast learners, and don’t require much hands-on instruction to correct their errors. Most importantly, they observe each other and correct mistakes amongst themselves, saving a lot of needless work on my part. To the untrained eye, they would look almost like taekwondo practitioners.

“Great job, guys. Let me sub in for each of you once, filming, and then we’re done for today.”

***

I make it back home early and sit blankly on the couch for a long while.

“Oppa, I’m bored.”

“You’re home?” Rabbit’s voice comes through my earpiece.

“Eo.”

“How did the audition go?”

“Shin Minho is too good,” I reply sadly.

“Sorry, Qilin.”

“It’s okay. I sparred with Julien. It was pretty fun.”

“Araso. I’m busy right now, but I won’t be back too late. Call me if anything comes up.”

“Mm.”

I sit for a little longer, then bounce up off the couch.

            Creating a KakaoTalk group chat with iKON and Mino, I name it Neighbors and send a message.

To: Neighbors

From: Minhee

Oppa-deul are busy tonight, but I prepared a lot of food. Are you guys free for dinner?

Pulling open the fridge, I examine my resources and begin to take out items.

Before long, Minhee’s phone starts to buzz.

To: Neighbors

From: Bobby

            OOO

To: Neighbors

From: Bobby

            What kind of food?

To: Neighbors

From: Minhee

Bulgogi, stir-fry, and sesame chicken.

To: Neighbors

From: Hanbin

            We have practice until late tonight. Sorry, Minhee-ssi.

To: Neighbors

From: Mino

            Us too.

To: Neighbors

From: Minhee

Aww! Can I bring it to you?

To: Neighbors

From: Jinhwan

            No, don’t inconvenience yourself for our sake!

To: Neighbors

From: Minhee

It’s really not any problem. I’m super lonely right now and the food will only go to waste :(

To: Neighbors

From: Mino

Well, if you come, I’ll introduce the rest of WINNER to you. And we’ll buy the drinks!

To: Neighbors

From: Junhwae

            Ah, hyung...

To: Neighbors

From: Minhee

            Be there in about an hour!

One last message comes, separate from the group chat.

To: Minhee-ssi

From: Bobby-ssi

Text me to let you in! ^_^

I smile and text him back.

To: Bobby-ssi

From: Minhee-ssi

            I will!