It wasn’t the high notes.

It wasn’t the tears.

It wasn’t her face.

It wasn’t her figure.

It wasn’t the song.

It was the emotions she evoked out of J with her music.

.

.

.

.

She was just fourteen, barely fifteen.

She was crying.

She brought the judges and the audiences to tears.

Sobs filled the air as watching the young girl tugged at her heart strings.

“What’s her name?”

“Park Jimin.”

Park Jimin. J didn’t know her personally. Come to think of it, it sounds pathetic to be moved to tears by a stranger younger than herself.

But for some unexplainable reasons, Jimin reminded J of her lost me.

J’s me before her society changed her; conformed her to their standards. Clipped her wings because her dreams won’t bring her money. Made her believe her dreams are not worth pursuing.

She was fourteen.  

And she stood in that stage.

Not to win the competition.

But simply to sing.

Because singing is what her heart wanted.

And J vowed ever since.

She would love this little girl; she would protect her with all her heart.

One day, J hoped that this child would grow up and find the happiness that even J is still trying to find.

But for now, the little girl is hers to love and hers to guard.

And for the first time, even though she doesn’t know to whom it was meant for, J hoped and pleaded:

Please. Please don’t break this girl’s spirit.

Please, please cherish her with all your heart.

Like how I’d always cherish her.

Now, later and always.

Time passed.  J struggled with her own life. The school, the future, the expectations. The ‘real’ life beyond kpop.

The plea was forgotten, or at least it was shoved at the back of her mind until the preciously familiar face appeared on her TV screen one day.

Her eyes are flashing bright, her cheeks slightly flushed as her smile threatened to reach her ears.

And I’m your girl, Jamie.

She’s no longer the fourteen year old Park Jimin. She grew up to be a young lady who wears a refreshing confidence and personality like a brooch. She’s not yet a lady but she’s no longer a little girl.

She was in between. And J found herself once again pleading.