Soft beats of melodious notes flowed through the streets.  Devastation.  Lost.  Sadness could not be heard any longer.  For they have been blocked by the hope that sounded across the city.  She was lonely.  Insecure.  Full of frustration.  But when she sang, everything seemed to disappear.  She knew she wasn’t loved.  She knew she wasn’t respected.  But that one thing called hope always lingers in her mind.  The hope that she can succeed.  Start over.  Be herself.  That made her able to love.  Able to love herself, love the world.  Love music.  Because when she becomes famous with her singing, she can show the world, that anyone can be happy.

“10 minutes until the performance!”

I stared up at the clock and smiled.  My heart fluttered, little butterflies dancing inside of my stomach.  It was finally time.  The makeup artist quickly put some last-minute finishing touches before letting me out of the seat and onto backstage.  Time to show what I had.  Time to show what I was working for.  Time to show wh…

“Are you going to keep standing there dreaming, or are you going to come out?  You just have… I don’t know, thousands of fans waiting for you,” my manager irritably remarked as he softly knocked me on the head.

I distractedly nodded.  Taking a nervous breath, my mind still flooded with mixed thoughts and emotions. My mind was whirring with a never-ending trail of thoughts.  I then thought of me.  Me and my music.  That’s all that matters.  I still remember fresh in my mind all the hardships I went through before this company took me in.

I walked along the streets of New York.  Passing by several windows of stores, catching my own reflection in between.  People called me lonely.  Pitiful.  Dirty.  I didn’t think that.  I thought that I was just like everyone else.  I picked up my only possession, my guitar, and started strumming a few chords.  Slowly, a string of melodious words came flowing out of my mouth as I continued to strum.  A crowd started to gather.  When they applauded, I felt something I hadn’t in a while.  I felt loved.  Respected.  That was when I decided what I wanted to do.  I didn’t want to become something where I would be by myself.  I would be someone who brings joy to others, someone who can finally receive love. 

One of the days after my street performances, a man in a black suit walked up to me.  Being someone who had no parents and lived in an orphanage, I wasn’t really used to having such “official-looking” people come up to me.  Quite frankly, it got me pretty scared.  Instead of looking back at the man, I avoided his gaze and instead quickly grabbed my guitar and ran.  He, obviously being faster than me, caught up to me.

“Here,” he said, handing me a card and a plane ticket to Seoul.  I looked at the card, it reading: YG Entertainment.  Looking up with wide eyes, I questioned what this was for.

“Congratulations.  You have been scouted for YG Entertainment.  Come to our company anytime, and just ask for someone named Jihyuk.”

                  I was still in shock, and couldn’t bring myself to speak.  I instead just nodded happily and went directly to the company after.

“Come on, stop blanking out.”  my manager once again knocked me on the head.  “You’ll do fine.  Don’t be so nervous.”

Well, it’s now or never.  With shaky legs, I stepped onto the stage.  I saw fans everywhere, screaming my name. 

Park Bom!  Park Bom!  Park Bom!

Having a content heart and a big smile, I closed my eyes and sang.

And I never felt more loved.