Summary: DBSK makes their official debut. The group goes to a party at the studio.

A.N.:  Well, we’re here. The final chapter. I won’t say much here because I wrote an afterword. See you at the end! ^^

—)(—

I got that boom boom
That you want…

I’m standing eight meters from Britney Spears. She’s performing onstage at SBS right now while I hide backstage and watch her through a gap in the set. She’s good. She has that star quality that Ssem always talks about. Her backup dancers are giants, but you don’t notice them once the song starts. All you see is Britney. I want stage presence like that.

She finishes her song and the audience goes wild, screaming her name. She smiles and waves, then exits the stage. A team of security and handlers is waiting for her. The moment she steps into the backstage area, she’s whisked away to her dressing room.

“Waaaah. So cool!” says Jae, shaking his head in admiration.

“That’s a world idol for you,” agrees Junsu.

Yoochun tries to act like seeing Britney Spears perform is no big deal, but I saw him imitating her dance moves earlier and singing the lyrics under his breath. He’s a secret fan.

Even stone-faced Changmin seems impressed. I’m the only one who isn’t blown away.

BoA is better. She hits her dance moves harder, and she has more energy on stage. But I’m biased. She’s been working with us the past few weeks on a Christmas carol for tonight’s show. I was surprised by how down-to-earth she is. She’s an SM legend. Instructors hold her up as example of what we should strive for. We all thought she existed on a higher plane than us lowly trainees. But now I know she’s just a kind and friendly noona who works hard. I like her.

“We should get back before Pak notices,” Changmin says, looking around nervously.

We have strict instructions to stay in our dressing room, but we slipped out from under Pak’s watchful eye to see Britney. Who knows if we’ll ever get this chance again? But now that her stage is over, the others head back. I stay. I want to see BoA perform.

Jae watches the others creep off, then comes to stand close beside me. We’re tucked deep in the shadows of the wings, behind the wooden set-stand. We’re well hidden here, free to watch the performances without being seen. The hosts are talking to BoA about her latest single, while her dance MV runs in the background. Fans keep interrupting the interview with screams, and the hosts have to repeat the questions.

“Do you think we’ll ever be stars like that?” Jae asks, a wistful tone in his voice.

“Sure, why not?” I sound confident, but I know how Jae feels. Tonight’s show is humbling. Seeing what true fame looks like reminds me how far we have to go. There’s a long, hard road to walk before we’re on BoA’s level. But if hard work will get us there, then we’ll succeed. Resolve builds in me to be the best, to try my hardest, to pull my members up with me. We’ll make it. I won’t let us fail.

BoA goes on. My eyes are riveted to the stage as she sings Rock With U. The song features a guitar riff, that hard rock sound Jae likes, and I turn to ask him what he thinks. He’s not watching the stage, though. He’s looking at me with the same adoration I saw during the fan signing, the look that makes me feel like a god.

“I have to tell you something,” he says. He sounds serious.

“What is it?” I wonder if it has to do with him being pulled out of our practice this morning. When he came back, he had the strangest look on his face. A sort of…happy…disbelief. “What, Jae?”

He touches my arm gently, the leather of his fingerless gloves cool on my skin. His dark eyes are earnest. He clears his throat. “I want to—”

“There you are!” A shrill voice cuts him off. It’s Raena. And she’s pissed. Crap. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you two. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Jae and I mumble a sheepish “No, Director-nim.”

“Come with me.” She stalks off toward the dressing rooms, and we quickly fall in behind her. She snaps at us over her shoulder as we go. “We’re going to run through your routine one last time, then you boys are on. No more sneaking off, you hear? I need to know exactly where you are every second until you go on stage in…” She checks her watch and gasps. “Fifteen minutes.”

Fifteen minutes? Something flutters in my stomach, an entire colony of butterflies taking flight. I share a look with Jae and can tell he feels the same way. I try to smile, to reassure him, but it comes out more like a grimace.

Raena leads us down the twisting backstage corridors to a small break room with tables and soda machines. My other members are already waiting there. Judging by Pak’s red face and their cowed looks, they got caught outside the dressing room.

“Okay, listen up!” Raena claps for our attention. “Here’s how it’ll go. You’ll perform the carol with BoA, then immediately head backstage to get your makeup touched up. You’ll have a five-minute break while they reset the stage, then you’re on again with ‘Hug.’ Got it?”

We nod. I’d laugh at our identical looks of wide-eyed terror, if I wasn’t so scared myself.

“Good. Line up.” Raena’s all business.

We get into formation. We’ll have stools to sit on during the stage performance, but in here we use the cafeteria chairs. Pak hits play on a small recorder, and we hear the opening notes of our song.

We quickly run through the routine under Raena’s assessing eye. When we finish, she’s not smiling. Uh-oh. “Micky, be careful. Your long notes are wavering. Changmin, I’ve never seen such a fake smile. Relax and be sincere. Your fans can tell the difference. Hero, that was good, but you’re just a touch faster than everyone else. Stay with the group. Yunho, half your notes were flat. And Xiah…you’re all over the place. What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, Director-nim. It’s these shoes.” He holds out a foot, and we all look at his black leather slip-ons. “They’re too big. I’m afraid I’m going to step right out of them.”

Raena snaps her fingers at Pak. “Go talk to wardrobe and see if they have something in his size that will work.” He runs off and she turns back to Junsu. “We’ll get those fixed before ‘Hug.’”

Our PR director studies us through her cat-eye glasses, stress visible on her face. “I’ll be honest, boys, I’m concerned. This is not up to your usual standard. You’ve worked so hard and come so far. Don’t stumble at the finish line. Half of Korea is watching you tonight. You have to nail this performance. Okay?”

We nod with lowered heads, discouraged and afraid. Jae looks near tears and now there’s an army of butterflies whirling inside me. But there’s no time to worry about it. We’re being hustled out of the lounge and back towards the stage. It’s almost time.

We stand in the wings and watch stage hands set up a row of stools for us. The stage manager comes over to consult with Raena. I look at my members and see the same nerves on their tense faces as I feel in my stomach. We need to focus.

“Hands in!” I say, calling for a huddle. Everyone stacks their hands in the middle as I look around the circle, making eye contact with each member in turn. “Forget what Raena said. Forget how many people are watching. We don’t have to be perfect. We just have to be good. And we’ve practiced so much that we can’t help but be good, right? So let’s go out there and do our best. Okay?”

I get a subdued “okay” from them. I shake my head at them and grin.

“Come on. We’re about to introduce ourselves to the entire country as gods. We can do better than that. Okay?”

This time they yell, “Okay!”

“Good! Now, who are we?”

“The Gods of the East!”

“Yes! Let’s show them what that means! One, two, three…”

“Dongbangshinki hwaiting!”

We bump fists and break the circle. I see a look of determination on everyone’s faces now. Good. We can do this.

Raena motions us over. “Okay, boys. Stand by.”

As the stage manager hands us our mikes, BoA walks up, dressed all in white. She gives us an encouraging smile. “Break a leg!”

We bow. Then the stage manager says, “Go!” and we’re on.

We walk out onto the stage, bowing to the live audience. It’s hard to see them behind the glare of the spotlights, but we can hear their applause loud and clear. My heart beats faster, part from fear and part from excitement. This is it. It’s happening. It’s time.

We smile and wave as we seat ourselves on the stools. The hosts are warming up the crowd with a brief introduction, then suddenly I hear, “Please welcome…Dongbangshinki!”

There are scattered polite claps, then silence falls.

We start singing.

My mind goes blank, and I perform the song on auto-pilot, the blessed legacy of a thousand practice sessions. The next thing I know, BoA is on stage with us. Her pure voice rises above our thrumming low tones, then chimes with us in rich harmony. When the last sweet note fades away, applause thunders through the studio. I hear some whistles, too.

They liked us.

Relief floods me. I bow with the rest of the group, and then we jog off the stage, waving to the audience as we go.

Offstage, we’re jubilant. We slap each other on the back and grin, congratulating each other, as we race to wardrobe for our touch-ups. I’m filled with energy. I feel like I could do anything. I glance over to where the stylist is patting Jae’s face dry and I see the same happiness glowing in his face. I want us to always feel this way. I smile as I cram my fingers into the black gloves the stylist hands me.

Pak rounds the doorway, out of breath and carrying a pair of shoes. He hands them to Junsu. “Here. Try these on.”

The stylist gasps in horror. “No! No, no, no! Those are brown. He can’t wear them. Look at their outfits. Do you see any brown?”

“He can’t dance in shoes that are too big,” protests Pak.

“Well, he’s not wearing brown.”

The two glare at each other.

In my happy mood, nothing is an obstacle. While the other two are arguing, I walk over to Junsu, stripping off my gloves as I go. I hand them to him. “Take these.”

He eyes them in puzzlement. “What are they for?”

“Ball them up in the toes of your shoes. It won’t be comfortable, but it’ll help a little bit.”

He shoots me a grateful look and bends down to fix them. Then we’re racing back to the stage for our next number.

Raena grabs us before we go on. “Watch out for the snow they’re dropping on the stage. They said they’ll keep the center clear, but the edges will be slippery. Whatever you do, don’t fall. Xiah, how are your shoes?”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Great. Okay, boys. Here’s your moment. Knock ‘em dead.” She pushes us out of the wings as the stage manager shouts “Go!”

The audience is more enthusias