For the first time in forever, Jaemin is having second thoughts at capturing Renjun’s solo performance on the stage. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, but a big part of him wants to enjoy the beauty of the hard work Renjun puts into his self-made choreography. Renjun even gets him the most strategic seat among the audience as he requested, emphasizing the importance of the right angle and lighting. And here Jaemin is, right in the middle of the front row, with a large camera in his hands. He clutches on the device tightly as the lights are switched off. Only the fairy lights outlining the stage shine as a guide for the performers, before it gets total dark.

The drum beats once, followed by the strumming of the acoustic guitar. The spotlights focusing on at the stage are switched on, highlighting the troop of performers on the stage with synchronized steps. Jaemin’s eyes are quick to catch the familiar small build of the Chinese man at the side of the stage before he makes his way towards the centre, leading the other 20 dancers in the performance. Jaemin is too busy clicking on the snap button of his camera, adjusting the angles and focus every other second to even be immersed into the story they’re telling through their bodies. The only thing at the back of his mind at that moment is to capture the photographs that will do justice to Renjun’s angel-like moves.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

Through a series of steps, Renjun then disappears at the back of the stage as the other performers take the stage. With the camera still glued on Jaemin’s face, he scans the whole stage, looking for any signs of Renjun. What surprises him is when the lights are switched off, leaving a spotlight at the centre of the stage. The dancers are on their knees, pointing to the only lighted area as an angel in white from neck to toes falls slowly from the ceiling.

There, supported by the strong wire, is Huang Renjun.

He looks ethereal.

The satin white shirt that hugs his abdomen in such a sultry way as his arms spread like a butterfly’s wings, as if he is enjoying all the attention on him. He closes his eyes, lips slightly parted, chin tilted. His ebony black hair completes his look in every way possible. He stills in his position for a good minute before he finally opens his round eyes. Among the sea of audience, the man in baby blue coat on the front row catches his attention. The big lens the person is holding sends thrills to Renjun’s spine as he takes a deep breath and spins mid-air.

The audience gasps.

Like a whirlwind, he twirls with such delicacy again and again, until his feet finally reach the cold stage. The music stops. Lights off. The sound of an arrow hitting a target then echoes in the hall. A few horrified yells come from the stage as the spotlight focuses on Renjun. He suddenly falls backwards in calculated steps. Red inks are smeared all over the silky white clothes and before anyone knows it, the curtain falls.

Jaemin is in complete awe. He doesn’t realize he hasn’t been breathing until his lungs burn from the lack of air. He lets out a deep cough and pants, catching his breath.

What a performance! And it’s just the first performance of the night!

Jaemin enjoys the rest of the performance with an easy heart before his phone lights up with a message from Renjun.

I’m up next. I hope you’ll get your aesthetic shots from your seat. Good luck!

Jaemin scoffs. Renjun is the one who needs good luck, not him. He’s just sitting in his seat comfortably with a camera in his hands, about to take pictures of an angel who paints galaxy with his limbs. Luck is already on his side.

The curtain opens with the first strum of the acoustic guitar, revealing Renjun at the centre of the stage, with a spotlight on him. He has his back facing the audience as he sways to left and right lifelessly, according to the downbeat melody. Petals of marigolds cover certain parts of the stage, creating a trail which ends with a frame of a woman’s picture on the altar at the side of the stage. He looks small compared to the big stage, but he conquers it with his powerful yet elegant movements, still back facing the audience. And when he finally turns around, he shocks everyone with the absurd makeup on his face.

Jaemin zooms in.

Renjun’s face is all white, decorated with a few flowers of blue, pink and purple all over his forehead, cheeks, and chin. Tiny yellow petals surround both of his eyes, encircling the dark brown eyeshadows. The tip of his nose is black. His lips are drawn as if they are stitched by a black thread. He looks like a skull, overall, but a magnificent one.

The other instruments join right after, violin and piano making up the beautiful Mexican-themed music. Renjun’s limbs hit the notes each time, bringing the audience to the afterlife. He dances around the trail of marigolds, expressing his sadness and longing for someone. For a brief second, it reminds Jaemin of Renjun’s mother. He did mention that his mother was suffering from cancer before she died 3 years ago. Perhaps that is the reason why the feelings he radiates from the choreography are raw and suffocating. His face says it all.

And when the music comes to an end, Renjun falls on his knees, defeated, still stuck in the afterlife he’s in. He pants hard. The beads of sweats are obvious through the lens, rolling down Renjun’s sideburns like a stream. He shuts his eyes, chin tilted, as the audience cheers for him.

It hits Jaemin that Renjun doesn’t just paint galaxy on the stage.

He paints life, too.

After the show finally ends, Jaemin waits for Renjun outside of the hall, eyes skimming through the photographs he captured. The proper lighting does justice to his pictures, and not to mention that Renjun looks extremely dashing the whole night with his white costume that compliments his black hair. And the most important thing is the expression Renjun wears on the stage – he seems as if he belongs there, as if he was born to tell stories through his body movements.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Renjun runs towards Jaemin with a knapsack hanging on his small shoulders. He has erased the skull makeup, and now he looks like an angel again. “Do you want to grab something to eat before we part ways? I’d like to hear your feedback.”

Luck is always on Jaemin’s side, and he is sure he will have to pay for the interest later.

They stop at a chicken restaurant. Renjun orders a lot because he says he hasn’t been eating since morning, but Jaemin knows the Chinese won’t be able to finish them later.

“So, how was it? Did you enjoy the show?” Renjun asks, eyes light up from excitement.

Jaemin only speaks compliments, as if it’s his mother tongue. He loses count of how many times he utters the word ‘wow’ but he’s glad the man before him looks pleased with his comments. The wide grin he pastes on his handsome face at every praise fills Jaemin’s heart with such warmth.

The grin somehow fades gradually when Jaemin asks about his inspirations for his solo performance. The Chinese then takes out his phone from his pocket and types out something. After a while, he shows Jaemin the screen. Pictures of people in aesthetic skull makeup fill his eyes. They remind Jaemin of the makeup on Renjun’s face during his solo dance.

“Dia De Los Muertos… Day of the Dead.” As Jaemin scrolls the screen, Renjun continues, “It’s a national holiday for Mexicans. It is believed that spirits of the dead visit the living during the celebration.”

The waiter then interrupts to serve their food and after she leaves, Renjun adds, “I was watching Coco the other day. And I thought, ‘oh, why not do a performance based on this story?’ so I did some research regarding the culture and walla, there goes the performance.”

Jaemin passes him the phone as the Korean mutters, “Oh, I see. I thought it has something to do with your mother, I’m sorry.”

Renjun places a fried chicken on his plate before he flashes Jaemin his teeth. “You’re not wrong, honestly. I do think of my mother when I was on the stage. I put her picture in the frame on the stage, if you notice.” He chuckles darkly. “And for your information, today, 1^st November, is the Day of the Dead. That’s why I even put some efforts in decorating the stage with marigolds. They say marigolds will guide the spirits to their altars with their scent and colour.”

“So, your mother is there, too?”

“I guess,” he shrugs. “I’d like to believe that she’s with me on the stage, watching me perform in front of the audience.” He takes a sip on his hot green tea before he adds, “I personally think that believing in such things help me gain some confidence.”

“You don’t feel like you deceive yourself?”

“No, because I have faith in it.” He takes another sip. “You see, Jaemin, belief is such a powerful tool to enhance yourself in any aspects. You can do everything if you believe.”

Jaemin nods and smiles.

Turns out Renjun’s mind is as beautiful as his appearance.