The clock is ticking. Yongsun lies on her bed, listening to every second that passes by. And hating each and every one of them. She hates the clock even more, always there to remind her time goes by. And that no matter how fast she goes, she can never outrun it.

When she was a child, she didn’t try to. She just enjoyed being, without many worries. When she was a teen, she wished to be older, even. Who doesn’t? But as soon as her twenties hit, she began to run. Not that fast at first, but she soon found herself speeding up and never stopped.

She studied her out when she was in university, and still did everything she thought a college student should experience: spending time with friends, making new memories, partying,… It was fun, and it was energizing. She felt liked she was living, but deep down she felt as if she needed to do all of those things now, or never.

Then she graduated, and… didn’t get a job. Because now was the time to go for something else that could never happen again: a music career. So she auditioned, failed, auditioned again and again until she got accepted. She was determined. She was right before: she couldn’t just go on dates or even spend that much time with close ones anymore. Now, she had to focus on training. And she did, every day she was required to, without missing a beat. It was tiring, it was hard, it sometimes felt like it was all for nothing. But she ran. And when she was put as the leader of three of her co-trainees, she accepted, she tried not to overthink it, and she kept going. She fell a couple of times – more if she’s honest – mainly because of her relationship with the younger one. Maybe she could have stopped one of those times she fell, taken a pause long enough to look at the situation, but she got up and ran again.

It paid. They debuted. And that was… a beginning. The beginning of a new race. With her new idol’s shoes on, she continued to run. Her role as the leader implied having the responsibility of the younger doing their part, but also advocating for them while facing the managers and the company. She gave everything she got in the studio to up the chances of succeeding while still training regularly. Maybe she should have taken a step back to cater more to her member’s need and health, but she did what she could at the time.

After the little hype of its rookie days, the group had trouble finding its place in the industry. And sometimes, Yongsun felt like the others were lacking a bit of energy. So she would slow down just enough to grab their hand and help them keep the pace. It was her duty. And if she was generally a bit ahead of the members, she knew they were running as well, and they helped her by pushing her back.

Eventually, their hard work paid and they could all take a deep breath: they had a future as a group. The three younger members seemed to find their balance between working and taking breaks, even if now the public’s attention got bigger and bigger and also meaner and meaner. They all took time off here and there. Yongsun couldn’t. If she wasn’t busy, she’d make herself busy. She always found something to do. That included doing everything she needed to be sure she could keep running.

The songs they were putting out were getting more and more attention now. It was time for a new project, a big one. One that wouldn't allow her to think of what would happen if she got back to walking. Four albums in one year, one per season. She ran through blooming flowers, burning sun, fallen leaves and pure snow. It was exhausting, it felt great. The title tracks worked pretty well, there were pieces of art. But when she went home, away from the musical beehive, she’d feel uneasy. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was exactly, but she was more than happy to let her second in command – more like the joker of the group, but well – in her apartment pretty much every day of the week. She kept her entertained and her mind busy. When she was not there, Yongsun slowly picked up the habit of cranking a beer open. With her low alcohol tolerance, it was enough to keep her thoughts light until bedtime.

The beer would keep her company after she tried to comfort the youngest when the constant hate she received became overwhelming. After she tried to understand what made her ever so bright and funny friend full of melancholia, but couldn’t even get to her. After she tried to cheer up her almost roommate that just cracked under the built-up pressure.

Still, they hit play pretty quickly and jumped on another full-length album right away. It did particularly well. The thrill of the scene was the same as the one they experience as rookies, but now, they were four confident women and unafraid of reminding it to the public. The world-wide public. Yongsun felt like she had found her marathon pace.

Then covid hit the world, and shut down pretty much everything. That’s when she heard the clock ticking. At first, she thought she could use this forced break to come up with new ideas, to write songs, to keep growing as a human and an artist. As always, she found ways to keep busy. Worked more than ever on her health. But slowly, as months went by, staying in touch with some of the members was hard. Melancholia again, probably. Or maybe just the general feeling of waking up after a nap that lasted way too long that brought them down. Yongsun was running in slow motion and the beer became two, to kill the time, and to forget that damn clock.

It was a relief when they could get together again and work on some new music. But their songs didn’t work as well as they should and singing in front of an empty room was hard. The group was feeding of the crowd’s energy as much as giving the crowd’s their own. And when the crowd don’t or can’t give you its energy, you eventually run out. She reached her arms out, and they all walked hand in hand, in silence. They didn’t know where they were going to, and at that moment, none of them could go faster. But, at least, they were going there together. When it was time to part ways with the promise to reunite the next day to continue toward the unknown, Yongsun began to reminisce more and more. She dropped the beers, she never really liked it anyway. Soju was more efficient when she wanted to feel a bit of peace.

Somehow, they found the strength to communicate and they realize none of them were feeling good with the uncertainty of it all. But one thing was clear: they all wanted to stay as a unit. And they passed the memo to the fans. Even if one member decided than she needed some fresh air. Yongsun made sure to support her all the way.

The world had reopened and Yongsun had her batteries running again. All of the members were each working on solo activities and challenges. She herself put all of her focus on becoming the best Mata Hari that ever existed and she began to work on her new album. In the midst of it all, the four of them still found time to work together to make a comeback. Then it was time to meet new fans… and hit the road. Concert after concert, constant adrenaline rush and down time right after. But that down time was smoothed by everything she was experiencing and everyone she was surrounding with. She took it all in and allowed herself to grasp the fact that this life was a true blessing, worth almost all the hardships they went through.

Since then, the sun kept rising up then disappearing under the horizon, the wind kept blowing, and she kept on going. She no longer felt the responsibilities of a leader weighing on her, as her members were far from being kids anymore. They were only two remaining in the company, and even if the group continued, they took the opportunity to form a subunit. Yongsun was pretty sure that, one way or the other, they were destined to be side by side for the rest of their life. Still, she couldn’t stop running. Already preparing for a new musical, while doing concert and fan events… She only hit pause on her YouTube channel with the strong intention of returning with the best content she ever put out.

Lying perfectly still can sometimes give Yongsun the impression that the world is on hold. But that ticking sound brings her quickly back to reality. She can’t outrun time. And she hates that clock. Because knowing that doesn’t make it less frightening. No drink awaits her in her fridge anymore. She takes a big breath in, a big breath out. She knows she is one call away to being reminded that it’s ok to be ambitious, that it’s ok to always want to reach new goals and that people will be there to tell her to also live and appreciate the moment when she forgets. With that thought, slowly, sleep comes to her.