March, 2016

It was 3:11 AM when Chaerin woke up, her eyes unfocused and neck impossibly cramped as she slowly sat up. She groggily scratched the side of her face, pausing in confusion when she felt indentations along her skin, belatedly realizing it was from the studio mixer she’d been using as a pillow.

Falling asleep at the recording studio had become more and more frequent; in fact, when Chaerin really thought about it, she spent more nights there than at her own apartment. Getting the perfect cut had become an obsession for her, and there weren’t enough hours in the day to complete what she wanted to get done with her album. As such, sleep was no longer important to her, and only overtook her when her body absolutely could not go on without it. The Chaerin of the past would have scolded her, stressing how important a good night’s sleep is to be productive the next day. But the Chaerin of now knew that time was a fickle thing. Time would not wait for her to be well-rested, especially in this industry. Chaerin was all too aware that it was her against the clock, and she was determined not to let a moment go by where she wasn’t giving all she had to her album in one way or another. Time had betrayed her in the past. She would not let it happen again.

Besides, even if she wanted to sleep, there’s no way she could. Thoughts of Minzy, Bom and Dara back home were always in the back of her mind, always. Where she used to find solace in being alone, she now found silence to be deafening. When left alone with her thoughts, they threatened to consume her. Worries about her members. Doubts over herself and her decisions. The future of 2NE1. The life she left behind in Korea.

No, there was no way she could sleep with such constant pressure on her mind.

Chaerin blinked a few times, adjusting her eyes to the dim lighting in the studio that she had fallen asleep in. She jumped when she felt her phone vibrate and began fumbling around for it, checking her back and front pants pockets before finding it in her hoodie. She the screen, seeing a new Kakao notification.

Dara: Look at this! Are you jealous >:)

Chaerin squinted at the picture that followed Dara’s message. She guessed it was something Dara had baked….or attempted to bake. Whatever it was, it looked burnt beyond hell.

Chaerin: Maybe I’d be jealous….if I knew what that was…

The reply came almost instantly.

Dara: Why aren’t you sleeping?!! That was supposed to be a morning message to wake up to!! You ruined the surprise

Chaerin: Well I can’t sleep now, I’d have nightmares from whatever that is you tried to bake.

Dara: Hey! It’s a cookie!

Chaerin: Are we looking at the same picture?

Dara: Chaerin!!

Chaerin: Hahaha, sorry unnie. It looks a little burnt.

Dara: Well you’re not getting one then

Chaerin: Unnie!! I want one

Dara: >:(

With a rueful smile, Chaerin closed the chat and opened Instagram and instantly regretted it when she browsed through a few of the comments on her photos. “#cl_stop_using_our_quran” flooded her feed even though she had apologized a month back. Her stomach felt nauseous as her mind inevitably drifted to the day the offensive version had played during her LA show, when she had been caught completely off guard and infuriated afterward that the version had even  made it into the show. After making sure the mistake wouldn’t happen ever again by having staff delete the version once and for all, she issued an apology on Instagram. She was completely embarrassed and ashamed; especially since she herself believed in actions speaking louder than words, she felt a bit lame simply uploading an apology for something that shouldn’t have happened again. But what else could she do? Her fans knew she wasn’t the type to upload some type of tearful apology video on the internet...she was fiercely private and every word she spoke she meant with all her heart. She knew that her true fans knew that, and she sincerely hoped that those she had hurt could find a bit of solace in her words and give her another chance. She had said her piece, and now she had to move forward.

It was the part of her job that she always grappled with; deciding which things to take to heart and which to dwell on. Years ago, the hate comments were easier to handle. Back when she had her group members, back when they promoted together as 2NE1. It was easier to tune it out, because she had them to lean on, knowing no matter what the public threw at her she’d always have people that loved her unconditionally to come home too. The support system was essential for all of them, but it wasn’t like that anymore. Now they were splintered apart by things beyond their control, and that left them more alone than they’d ever been.

Chaerin bit her lip, trying not to get lost in thoughts of how it used to be. She wished she could forget about it, move forward like all the people around her told her was so easy to do. Debuting in America was supposed to be a fresh, new start. But Chaerin couldn’t just forget about her group back home. They were always on her mind. Even when she did focus, she did it with Minzy, Dara and Bom in mind. A big part of her still wanted to succeed in the States so that she could bring them with, get them on stage again and continue on a trail they were not yet done blazing. But things kept seeming to fall apart, no matter how hard she worked. And it made her feel like a failure, not only to herself, but to her members who were depending on her. She remembered when Minji used to send her short sound clips of self-composed songs, and how her heart swelled when she thought of the younger girl exploring her talents. She believed in her so much and knew she was more than capable of greatness, but their boss never seemed to want to give her a chance. It made Chaerin not only angry but confused that the higher ups couldn’t see her potential. So she had thought that maybe, if she could become big in the US, she’d have enough power to make them listen, to make them take Minji seriously and help her succeed. Her thoughts drifted to Minji often lately. There was only so long that someone could be shut away, given no schedules during 2ne1’s hiatus as their talent sat dormant, potential hits failing to ever see the light. She had been spending more and more time at the dance academy ever since she’d founded it, and Chaerin worried that they’d eventually lose her to it completely if someone didn’t make a move. Minji was an indispensable part of 2ne1 and lately she had seemed more distant to Chaerin than ever, reading but not responding in the members’ group chat, and even avoiding meet-ups with Dara and Bom.

But the part that worried Chaerin the most was how subdued and complacent Minzy sounded on the phone when she talked to her. She called the members frequently to check up on them, and for a while now, Chaerin felt as if she had been talking at Minzy instead of to her. Minji replied to Chaerin’s words of encouragement with a simple, “thank you” or “okay”, if she even answered at all. It was unlike her, since she used to so excitable about new choreography or animated in telling about Bom’s latest antics for the day. But again, that was years ago. Now, Chaerin can’t get through to Minzy, and she knows it’s because words can only go so far: eventually, action must be taken. It was a situation she herself was in, constantly being promised debut dates and collaborations and all kinds of exciting things that never, ever panned out. It was a terrible feeling, and one she had never wished her members would have to suffer. She was their leader. She was supposed to suffer through it all so they didn’t have to. Yet despite her efforts, they were all in a worse place than they’d been since the hiatus started, and she felt completely responsible.

Chaerin knew she had to start taking control if she wanted their situation to change. She had to stop playing a passive role in all of it and start calling the shots.

She resolved to start tomorrow. In fact, she had a meeting already planned with Scooter in the morning, and then she’d call Dara, and get an update on Park Bom. She’d turn this all around. She’d get 2ne1 back on track no matter what.

With a sigh, Chaerin slowly stood up from her swivel chair and picked up her purse, making sure all the recording equipment was turned off before turning the room lights off. She looked over at the empty mic in the recording booth, thinking about the time she had recorded “Please Don’t Go” with Minji. It was the only song they’d been able to release together this far, but if Chaerin could make things happen, it wouldn’t be their last.

As she left the building, she imagined her group was beside her as she walked through the empty hallway, drawing strength from them in spirit.