Sun and Moon Saga

Chapter 4

Atelophobia;

The fear of not being good enough.

JENNIE

I groaned at the sound of my alarm as my phone vibrated a dance to the tune of Sailor Moon’s theme. I reached over, blindly reaching for my phone with my eyes still closed, hoping that by doing so, I would accidentally hit the snooze button. And successfully, it gave me an extra five minutes before I had to get up. It’s been a year since I arrived in Seoul, and now I am an official trainee at YG. I said I was confident enough to dive into this head on, but I don’t think I mentally and physically prepared myself enough. My body has never experienced such a high degree of fatigue, and I am hoping that with time, it will learn to adjust and not break down. Along with vocal training, I have been dedicating endless hours of my week to dance training. Due to their strict policies prohibiting us from speaking English, I have also been honing my Korean. I still find myself thinking about my initial audition, which is what inspires me to work hard and push myself.

*flashback

I sat nervously in the lobby, waiting for them to call me in and meet with the CEO and his panel to conduct my first audition. I could not help but worry that I would make a mistake because my jet lag was making me feel drowsy. My arrival in Seoul was only 24 hours ago, and this morning my body was not willing to wake up. Reminding me why we were in Seoul in the first place, my mom practically dragged me out of bed. I insisted that I go alone, even though she wanted to come along for moral support. A yawn was approaching, so I quickly raised my hands to cover my mouth and attempted to do so discreetly without ruining my eye makeup. As I sat still waiting, two gentlemen, likely in their 30s, sat across from each other, chatting while they sipped their coffee. I couldn’t help but listen in on their conversation since they weren’t seated too far from me.

“I was really hopeful that there would be some girls that would impress me back in Bangkok,” the taller one with the hat complained.

“Yeah, bro. I feel like there’s a lot of heart out there without real talent,” chimed the man with a bald head. The bald man's honesty made the other man laugh.

Whoa, it appears that they searched far and wide for someone with talent to train for the new girl group. I am incredibly fortunate to have been granted this audition. I spent weeks waiting for their email, and for a while I did not think they would reach out. Here I am, pretending to be composed, but in my heart, I am incredibly anxious. I breathed deeply in between, scanning the area to see if any idols were passing by. The gentleman paused their gossiping when the door to a conference room slightly opened. They waited for someone to give them the cue to go in, and out came the CEO of YG himself, Yang Yun-Suk. The CEO extended his hand in invitation as the two men advanced toward him. As soon as they were inside, a lady by the name of JunHa, who had introduced herself earlier as the CEO’s personal secretary, approached me and said that they were ready for me. And right then and there, I wanted to s**t myself.

“Jennie, they’re ready for you,” she said ever so politely.

“Uhm…ok…Thank you, Miss JunHa.” I stuttered as I bowed repeatedly.

My nervousness was evident to her. After all, my future will be decided by this audition.

“Hey, relax; I’m sure you’ll do great. Just be confident and don’t forget to smile.”

“Right. Yes. Thank you.” bowing once again.

“Jennie, relax. Do you want some advice?” she asked. “Keep your nerves in check to avoid giving the impression that you are incapable of handling pressure. They are always searching for candidates who are assertive, as their ideal idol must exude confidence. Besides, you are not the only one who has atelophobia. All those who enter through these doors possess it. However, you have to make a decision: either you allow it to consume you or you force it out of your system like a bad habit. It will not help you if you let it remain in your system, so I suggest you follow my second recommendation," she gently urged.

“Atelophobia?” I shivered.

“Yeah, you know, the fear of not being good enough. The sense of not being good enough stems from self-criticism, judgment, and rejection. The key is to love and care for oneself. It will come naturally out if you know you're doing it with passion and giving it your all.”

Miss JunHa’s little pep talk managed to put a smile on my face and helped lessen the anxiety. I was truly appreciative of her time and words of wisdom. I felt a motherly feeling from her, and I felt my mom was with me after all. She would occasionally glance at me to make sure I was alright as I walked beside her. We reached the door and gestured for me to step in. I made my way to the floor marker, and there I stood in front of the 2 gentlemen gossiping earlier and two other ladies dressed casually who may be the choreographers of the company and the CEO himself. I bowed politely at each of them as they welcomed me with smiles. Then, without wasting time, the CEO spoke, “Welcome, Jennie. Whenever you’re ready.”

I put on my most convincing poker face and started singing for my life. I occasionally glanced at them and closed my eyes to feel the music. The CEO was the only one on the panel without a smile, so I do not think I impressed him because his face was blank. After the music faded, I took my final bow and said thank you to them. They exchanged glances and whispers, and while the suspense was building as I waited for their response, I really did not want to hear what they had to say. But I was about to...

“Jennie,” the CEO started, “of course you know that our feedback is very frank, so I hope you don’t take it the wrong way. An honest feedback isn’t to target you personally, but what we like to do as we assess candidates is to strip apart their capabilities. Not to bring you down, but in hopes of helping you better yourself.”

As he spoke, the rest of the panel stayed silent. While I stood there waiting for him to strip me apart, I said, “Yes, Sir.” I bowed again as he continued.

“So with that said, I did enjoy your performance, but…”

The moment I heard the word “but” I wanted to run out of the room. I kept my poker face on and just smiled through the pain as I continued to listen to him.

“Jennie, I would be lying if I said you have everything we are looking for. Your vocals are not good, but you seem to enunciate words in English very fluently, which would benefit a rap track. Your dancing skills are subpar and may need a lot of work, but thankfully, we have very strong choreographers to help with that. As far as your looks, we are very keen on visuals, and your dark complexion, which may be due to the climate of where you came from, is something that needs to be corrected. And you’re how old? 14 right? Well, you haven’t completely grown into your looks, and as far as I can see, your looks may have potential. With the right stylist, nutritionist, and coaches to groom you, you may be able to stand out and earn a spot.” He said it without hesitation.

Speaking without flinching or blinking, he conveyed the impression that he was accustomed to giving such criticism. Everything he said was cemented in my head. Basically, he said I wasn’t good, nor was I bad. I can’t really sing, I can’t really dance, and last but not least, I’m not good looking enough. Ouch. I swallowed the saliva that collected in my mouth as I processed his every word. I collected some of the pride I had left and bowed with a smile. But he didn’t seem to be finished.

“But Jennie-yah,” he started again, and I braced myself. “Your confidence is something else. You exude an alpha quality, and it pleases me personally that you were able to stand in front of us following your evaluation without showing even a hint of weakness. No tears, and you didn’t run out the door. So, I believe that with proper training, I truly hope you will get better over time. Congratulations. But I would need you to work really hard.” He concluded with a cold smile.

Hearing him compliment me made me want to celebrate, but I did not think it was appropriate given everything negative he had said about me. He stood up, and the rest followed suit. They all bowed to me and left before I could thank them for their time. I stood on the marker for a long time, letting Miss JinHa's word of the day—"Atelophobia"—resonate in my mind until I said it aloud. Kick it like a bad habit, my ass! I shook my head in acceptance that, although I did not contract the damn thing, I am most definitely living proof.

*end of flashback

That was the day I started to second-guess my decisions in life. I cried the moment I got home from that audition, and celebrating prematurely was stupid since I felt like I had conquered absolutely nothing. If, however, they are seeking confidence, then I will be confident in my ability to disprove their assertions. Working hard day in and day out became a routine for me. I missed my friends from when I first arrived in Seoul, but as soon as I moved into the dorms and my schedule was released, I had no time to miss them, let alone have time to eat. Occasionally, when I'm not sleeping or too busy, I give my mom a call. I had hoped to spend more time with her after we returned, but the dorms have become my new home. It's a fact that I miss her, even though I know it's temporary. Having said that, I find solace in the fact that, in contrast to being back in Auckland, we are at least a few minutes apart. Regretfully, I couldn't visit her even if I wanted to because of my busy schedule. I train for 13 hours a day, seven days a week, beginning at 11 a.m. If I am not too tired and Eunchong, also known as Silvergun, one of the dancers I made friends with, is not too busy, I practice for an additional hour or so. We have a break every fortnight on a Sunday, and by that day, I was practically a zombie.

As a trainee, I can attest to the hard work involved, having gained firsthand experience. Making friends in the company would be nice, but there is not much of a chance because all the girls are scheming and cunning. Furthermore, they have not stayed long enough to determine who would make a good friend. Trainees are being sent home one after another, and everyone is only thinking about themselves. The only friend I have, Chahee, whom I actually grew up with, is training at another company, and we exchange texts often and see each other when we can. A lot of girls who are bold and not hesitant try to approach and befriend me, while the others are terrified of me or just my resting b***h face. I avoid getting too close to them in any case because I do not want any of them to have the wrong idea about me and start spreading unfounded rumors, which won’t be good for my mental health. For the most part, I get along with everyone. I hope it's not because my reputation precedes me. The majority of the staff and trainees here are aware that I am, in fact, a chaebol. However, I frequently reassure them that my continued presence is not due to my status.

Once again, my alarm went off, and I had to get up quickly to avoid being tardy for dance class. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and got dressed. I grabbed my backpack, strapped on my sneakers, and headed out the door. Arriving at the company, I peeked through the dance studio's glass door and saw that everyone was just hanging around and had not started. I went to where my acquaintances were gathered after noticing them. Not long after we exchanged greetings, our instructor Bora came in.

“Welcome back, ladies. Please, let’s all settle down.” Bora kindly demanded. “Let’s begin our warm ups so we can practice the hook of yesterday’s choreography.”

We have been dancing to "Give Me Everything" by Pittbull and Neyo, and even though I know the choreography by heart, I still cannot execute it flawlessly. Since more than half of the class has not even been able to memorize it after a week, I do not feel as bad.

Everyone's attention was drawn to the mirrors as the song began to play through the speakers. I was a little frustrated with myself since I did not think it looked smooth enough. Almost furious, I sighed to myself as I noticed a tall, slender figure with very short hair standing at the back of the studio. With hands behind the back, an unfamiliar face was silently watching the class. I narrowed my eyes in an attempt to see if I could see their face, but the mirror's glare prevented me from getting a clear view. Although it would be foolish of me to assume that they are male given that this is a class exclusively for females, I was struggling to determine their gender. I know most of the people that are in the company, and I know for a fact that this is definitely a new face. A new trainee, perhaps? My curiosity was killing me, so I made my way to a position with a better view. Definitely not Korean, that much is clear. I was following the choreography while dancing and leaned in closer to try to get a better look when I unexpectedly stumbled over someone's foot. I thought my ass would fall to the ground, but to my surprise, I felt thin, but strong, arms supporting me beneath my armpits. I was ashamed and embarrassed, so I tried to restore my balance quickly with the help of the pillars, who gently pushed me up, preventing my collapse. I'm glad my foolish actions didn't disrupt the lesson, since I would have been reprimanded for sure. When I realized that I was already face to face with the person I was performing circus acts simply to see, my cheeks flushed with humiliation, I turned around, laughing at my own foolishness, and proceeded to apologize. But before I could utter a word, I was cut off.

“Are you okay?” the gentle pillar asked.

We locked eyes and saw worry in hers. That’s right. Those sturdy yet thin pillars belonged to the slim, short-haired girl with concerned eyes. Right when I was about to answer, the music stopped, and Bora ordered us to get into our groups for the choreo. The only reply I was able to offer her was a nod and a smile. She smiled back, and Bora came in our direction and started to talk to her. I moved to the side and noticed Bora getting irritated with the girl because she appeared to be confused about what she was saying. It didn't take me long to discover that she didn't grasp what the teacher was telling her to do. She was new and a foreigner, so I doubt she spoke Korean fluently or even at all or comprehended Bora's fast speech. I walked over towards them, and she looked at me almost immediately with fear in her teary eyes.

“Hi,” I beamed with a smile.

“Hi, do you speak English?” She asked, almost begging for my answer to be yes.

“I do. And you obviously don’t understand Korean, do you?”

“No. I am new here, and I only know how to say hello.” She confessed.

I saw Bora glare at me, and I knew why. As a general rule, we are not allowed to speak English, especially with foreigners, so that they can learn the language quicker. Bora immediately cut off our conversation, and to my surprise, she told me to translate everything she said to her. I followed her order as the whole class stared and relayed it to the girl, “She said that you need to really pay attention since we are spending too much time with this choreography and want to move on, and you might make us all fall behind if you don't learn it fast enough.”

“Thank you, but I promise I won’t hold back the class. I am confident I won’t.” She protested as she palmed both her hands together and bowed. I continued to translate.

“She said, in that case, how far into the song do you know the dance?”

“Well, I know the whole choreo.” She replied humbly.

I was taken by surprise by her bold statement and told Bora exactly what she said in Korean. Bora looked at her, not convinced, and grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to the front of the studio. While being dragged, she kept her eyes on me as if she were asking for help. What was she expecting me to do anyway? The entire class walked to the back, leaving the girl alone front and center. The girl was looking around in a clear state of panic. Bora dashed to the stereo to play the song again, and everyone watched in anticipation of what the girl was about to do. For her sake, I hope by some miracle that she memorized the choreography, even if it appears messy and disorganized. Is she capable of pulling this off? I don't know her, and I don't normally express concern to other trainees when they are put in that position, but I feel differently about her. I am genuinely rooting for her. Just as the music started, she went from standing like a scared child being scolded to a poised and elegant work of art. I covered my mouth in amazement, and everyone around me gasped, unable to believe what they were seeing. Her motions and technique were flawless. How could she have mastered it so quickly? Has she ever danced before? We all glanced at each other, stunned at how talented this girl was. We took a week to study it and still haven't mastered it, but she perfected it in about 30 minutes. The music stopped, and we all gave her a deserving round of applause. She took a bow, switched back to her timid demeanor, and ran over quickly to where I stood.

“You were amazing,” I complimented her.

“Thank you,” she said simply as she gave me a smile as well.

I know I don't try to get to know other trainees, but she is an exception that I can make. Her sincere eyes and modest mannerism convey her humility. I have so many questions for her and I want to know how she learned that so quickly. My thought was broken by the sudden tug on my arm when she softly asked, “ What’s your name?”

I flashed her a gummy smile and replied, “Jennie.” I was about to ask her name, but out of nowhere, I realized that the biggest question I should ask is, Are you my competition? I shook the thought and continued to ask, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Lisa,” she beamed as she extended her hand for a shake.

Not long after our exchange of formality, I was in a trance once again and a word danced flawlessly in my head…ATELOPHOBIA.