Kim Namjoon - My Dream

"You can fly, higher~ than birds in the sky, you can fly, higher~ than birds in the sky ... " A faint, upbeat melody resounded throughout the quiet street, grabbing my attention while I was leisurely strolling back home from school.

"Hey! Wook-ah, do you know that song?" I questioned, nudging my friend walking beside me who had his head bowed, engrossed in playing on his game console. Jin-wook furrowed his eyebrows as he briefly looked towards me.

"... Epik High's Fly... It's the current song trending in Korea! You would've heard it at least once... " Jin-wook muttered as he turned his attention back to his game.

"Fly... Epik High?" As curiosity bubbled up inside of me, I abruptly grabbed hold of Jin-wook's bag strap, dragging him towards the electronics shop that was in the midst of blaring "Fly". Tilting my head upwards towards the television screen, I closed my eyes by habit.

"Joon... What are you doing?" Jin-wook asked, his eyes firmly glued onto his game console. The melody gradually became clearer to my ears as the music and steady beat flowed and complimented one another—I was lost in the song.

It was a strange feeling. It was the first time I got so absorbed into the music. I felt like I was transported into another universe. A universe filled with melody and harmony.

I slowly opened my eyes only several minutes after the song had long ended. I got emotional. I felt my heart strings getting tugged from the heartfelt rap and singing by the artists.

In that moment, a burning fire lit in my heart as I exclaimed with conviction, "Jin-wook ah! I want to be a singe– no, a rapper! Have my own music career! Express my feelings through music!" My eyes grew brighter and brighter word by word. I have discovered my passion!

"..."

Jin-wook's jaw dropped. He whipped his head to face me and his hands finally stopped moving. Seeing my passionate gaze, he realised I was actually serious about my decision.

"Oh...all... the best?"

At that time, I was in my fifth grade.

Due to "Fly", which piqued my interest in music and the hip-hop genre, my school teacher learnt of my passion and introduced me to the American rapper Eminem, a skilled rapper—it was then that I started to share lyrics I found to be inspiring to my friends, even trying to compose my own lyrics. I felt happier and more spirited.

I was a child who had found his dream.

...

< 2007, first year of middle school >

Rapping was now a part of my life, where I used any spare time I had to rap in local hip-hop circles to improve my skills, to have the time of my life. This was the very year that I created my first self-composed recording using a program called Cool Edit. From then, my passion for music only continued to grow, as I invested more time and effort in order to reach greater heights.

The following year, I became more and more active as an underground rapper, under the moniker, "Runch Randa" even deciding to temporarily join a rap crew called "Daenamhyup". Participating in several collaborations with other underground rappers, I managed to gain further recognition in the underground hip-hop scene. I was pumping with excitement.

After careful contemplation, I decided it was best to tell my parents of my passion. However, I did not expect that the only tough wall that was currently in the path of my dreams was built by my own family.

...

"KIM NAMJOON! You have been doing very well in school and scored excellent grades, you better know where you stand! Music will only destroy what you have achieved so far! We've already spent so much money to provide you with a good education, you ungrateful brat! Do you treat your parents like jokers who let you do whatever you want? Hmph, you are only in your second year of middle school and with only your academic abilities, how can you succeed in the entertainment industry? Just use the abilities you currently have to aim for a stable job!"

When I came clean to my parents, my father immediately flew into a rage and his face was contorted in anger", refusing to listen properly to what I had to say. My father's cold-hearted and domineering words had shaken me to my core. I felt like I had fallen into a cactus, my heart punctured a million times over by tiny pins. I know that if i started pulling the pins out, one by one, the blood will come gushing out. My own parents were disgusted by my passion in music. I felt my heart shatter.

"You don't even believe in your own son..."

Tears threatened to escape from my eyes, I could only stiffly turn towards my mother who was meekly standing behind my father, squeezing out what I wanted to say between bated breaths, "Do... you want to have a son who was a first-place rapper... or a 5,000th-place student..." Melancholy had waged a full scale assault on my vocal chords, my voice quivering near the end. Why couldn't they understand me! I bit my lips, trying my hardest to control my emotions that were in turmoil. The living room was enveloped in a tense silence.

"..."

" I'll never, never give up! " Breaking the silence with this last sentence I mangaed to muster, I stomped back into my room, not noticing the complex gaze of shock, anger, and realisation my parents gave me.

I think this was the first time where I had dared to voice out my own thoughts and vehemently opposed my parents' wishes.

*sniff*

Lying on my back and propping the back of my head up with my hands, tears flowedk down my cheeks in an unbroken stream as I stared listlessly at the blank ceiling. My thoughts were all jumbled and I couldn't think straight. Only after an hour had passed that I slowly fell into a deep slumber in the comforts of my bed.

...

For the next several days, I did not utter a single word to my parents nor looked them directly in the eye, going about my days as per normal. The atmosphere at home was especially cold during this time.

Sensing my strong determination and stubbornness to continue with music, my parents could no longer stand the cold shoulder I gave to them and secretly arranged a conference with my form teacher, hoping to get a better understanding about my love for music.

"Mr and Mrs Kim, Namjoon-ssi has always put in his finest effort in maintaining his excellent grades in school. Even I was initially surprised when he told me about his pursuit in the music career since with his top grades, he could continue to make numerous academic achievements and get a stable job. However, throughout the few years of being his teacher, I have been moved by his passionate attitude towards music—composing his own lyrics on scrap paper whenever he was free in school and seeking advice from his friends in order to improve. Although he tried to do it in secret, as his form teacher, I naturally found out about his love for music. I was astounded by his excellent ability to express his emotions through his self-composed lyrics—he's truly gifted in music! As his parents, I hope that you realise that your words can heavily affect your son's future!"

...

Just as I was lying on my bed, legs crossed, in the midst of listlessly flipping through my notes to prepare for my upcoming test, I heard the creaking noise of my room door opening, my parent's figures slowly appearing before me as they stepped into my room. Suppressing my shock towards their sudden entrance, I furrowed my brows in annoyance, turning back to the paper in my hands, my shoulders subconsciously tensing up.

My room was a mess. I no longer bothered to hide anything that was related to music. Was there a point? Numerous sheets of paper that I filled to the brim with song lyrics were scattered across the floor, posters of Epik High I got as my motivation were proudly pasted on my wall, prizes I won from my career as an underground rapper were proudly displayed on my bookshelf and the books related to composing music were placed openly on my study desk.

"..."

"..."

I ignored the burning stare my parent's gave me, listening to the shuffling of feet as they looked around my room. My mother gingerly picked up the scattered music sheets on the floor. Out of the blue, I could hear her sharp intake of breath. Did she read one of my scripts?

"J-joon-ah! This-this...its beautiful! Oh no... We're really sorry for hurting your feelings... You're our beloved son, but as your parents we stepped all over your dream and left you hurt, instead of encouraging you. Joon-ah... we're so sorry... " Hearing my mother's sincere apology and the undisguised ache in her voice, my eyes reddened as I looked up to see her agonized expression.

"Uh... Do whatever you want... But make sure to do your best!... I'm sorry*ahem*... Son... You're our pride! " My father humphed, I could see his reddened ears. Although he didn't say much, his words contained a little warmth, slowly thawing my cold heart. Seeing his usually indifferent expression show concern, I heaved a heavy sigh. They could not be blamed—they must have been worried about me. But their approval really...really...meant the world to me. Placing down my notes, I got up from my bed and started saying everything in a rush.

"... I'm sorry for throwing tantrums! I'm sorry for lashing out at you! *hic* Thank you..." I rushed into my parents arms and hugged them tightly with my small body. We then enjoyed the warmth of family in each other's embrace, keeping quiet. The silence that ensued this time was comforting—like a warm, fluffy blanket.