"If you can't fly, then run... If you can't run, then walk."

BTS < Not Today >

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The next day, Jungkook misses the chance to greet his neighbor, setting off from his villa apartment just a few minutes after seven in the morning.

The morning sun bathes on his lean body, his thin-waist figure visible for the first time outside of his usually big, baggy clothes. Clad in a simple white buttoned-up shirt, a pair of black slacks, and a pair of black formal shoes, the tall and broad-shouldered man turns heads of passersby as he makes his way towards the bus stop.

Jungkook puts on his earphones as he descends the hilly slope, looking away from unfamiliar gazes. The piercing stares and silent murmurs of high school kids is uncomfortable. Hands in his pockets, he vows to grow out the length of his hair, wishing that his eyes and ears were shielded.

Aboard bus 613, Jungkook stands with his hand gripped onto the grab handle, making do with a tight vacant spot between the inward gliding doors of the entrance and the exit. Looking away from the uninspiring faces of office workers plugged with earphone buds, he fixes his eyes on the tall window. The trees on the roadside are green and lush, the skies blue and clouds billowy. Summer is all around him, and he hopes that this season doesn't passes him by insignificantly.

With every turn of the road, he watches as the width of the roads expand as the pinnacle of each new building outgrow the previous. The concrete jungle overwhelms Jungkook's sight, who once equated Seoul to the mirror-walled and musically-charged dance studios. This pavement which he has yet to embark on makes him indescribably small, but Jungkook clenches his teeth nonetheless.

A undeniably cute, although sheepish, cheer from the woman next door reminds him that not all hope is lost.

"Hwaiting."

His heart pounds, despite having little to do with the pumping of his adrenaline.

The rest of his forty-five minutes of commuting passes by in a blur. Being one of the last white-collared passengers to step out of the bus, Jungkook cranes his neck when he sees the magnificently tall skyscraper before him. Herds of office workers pass him by on his left and on his right. They look like aggressive fishes swimming upstream. Swallowing hardly, he picks up his lagging footsteps, clutching on to the wide strap of his crossbody manbag.

Jungkook passes through the revolving door of the building, eyes continuously roaming his surroundings. The large, glass chandelier hanging from the middle of the heightened ceiling, the sparkling tiled walls and marble floor - is this an office lobby or a make-believe palace? Composing himself, he walks towards the front desk, where a standing kiosk flashes the following in big, thick fonts:

HAN WEEKLY OPEN RECRUITS INTERVIEW 

Venue: 2ND FLOOR, HUMAN RESOURCES
Time: 9.00am onwards

Jungkook greets the front desk receptionist with a little more confidence that he actually has. "Excuse me, I am here to attend the open recruit interview."

The receptionist acknowledges him with a friendly nod, and proceeds with the identification verification. A second receptionist next to her whispers something in her ear. Their cheeks rise with color, and the check moves quickly. Jungkook looks away, uncomfortable once again with their heavy gaze. He keeps his head low, staying motionless until he is called by the receptionist. He follows her towards the turnstile barricade with a numbered visitor tag, only to receive a special greeting from the crimson-cheeked receptionist: "All the best with your interview!!"

Jungkook returns the greeting with an awkward bow, and rushes his way into the crowded lift. 

Standing in a closed-off elevating box, Jungkook begins to note the elaborated dressing of the employees. The men are suited up in high-end and sharp fits while the women's faces are doll-like, complete with exquisite make-up and fancier clothes. The air of the lift is filled with mixtures of scents ranging from the ocean, wood, floral to fruit. Scrunching his nose from the overbearing fragrances, Jungkook squeezes his way out of the door when it opens.

The air on the second floor is tense and slightly damp with subtle but salty hint of sweat. The open waiting space looks like the airport's lounge, with as many as a hundred interview hopefuls scattered. The scene brings back memories of his first audition at a singing program. He remembers how he, as a teenage boy, was affected by the competitive tension of the room. He remembers feeling small and insignificant, being unconfident with his talent and ability. 

It is the exact feeling of the here and now. The only difference, is his age. Once the youngest of all program applicants, Jungkook now stands out as the oldest intern applicant among jittery but fresh-faced university graduate applicants.

Once in every two years, Han Weekly welcomes candidates from all walks of life, a golden opportunity to apply for an internship, regardless of their relevant paper qualification. Namjoon was a prime example of the program's success. 

With no empty seats at the back, and with a sinking realization that a chance like this may not come again until two years later, Jungkook blinks in amicable resignation, strolling past countless pairs of wary and even more skeptical eyes to secure a seat at the front row.

He stays glued to his seat until his number is up.

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Standing in the middle of the cold and excessively brightly-lit room, Jungkook puts his hands adequately by the side of his legs, separating his clasped ball of fists.

The interview room has a distinctively tall ceiling. Its four corners are supported by one-part wall window, and three-part wall mirrors. The design seems to be an intention in magnifying the candidate's presence and nervousness within the room. 

But it doesn't compare to the panel of three senior executives who sit before a large, curved, marble table with hawk-like eyes and grimmer lips.

Jungkook finds it easy to understand why the candidates before him were walking out with bullets of sweat across their foreheads.

The bespectacled, grey-haired man on the far left wears an artisan ponytail and an enviable handlebar mustache. He blends wisdom and sophistication in his appearance, while keeping his small eyes glued to Jungkook's every move. On the far right, the bald man in his late forties exudes confidence and manliness in leopard print suit and tie. Jungkook's attention gets pulled to the fullness of his arms, which hug the material of his coat tightly.

Between them, a woman with pointed chin is dressed in a white turtleneck and a pastel blue blazer. The lines on her forehead indicate her graceful age, but she is the only one leaning against the back of her chair, sitting with arms crossed.

In the penetrating silence, their eyes flicker between Jungkook and the thin sheets of paper before them. 

Doing his best not to be intimidated, Jungkook holds his breath and waits for a chance to speak.

The bespectacled man greets him gruffly. "Good afternoon, Jeon Jungkook-sshi."

"Good afternoon sir." Jungkook's answer is firm as he offers the panel a quick bow and lifts his head, all the while making sure to show his respect by avoiding direct eye contact.

The man in leopard print wastes no time in questioning after several flips of the paper. Stroking his chin, he looks straight at Jungkook. "It says here that your highest paper qualification is a high school diploma. Why is that so?"

Putting aside his emotion, Jungkook tackles the familiar question that is thrown again and again at him. "Yes, I was in the midst of preparing to debut in the music industry. I was thirteen when I started my training, juggling between school and training life."

"And it says here, that you've trained for a total of seven years?"

Unlike some of his hyungs, Jungkook didn't have the money to terminate his seven-year contract. He paid it with his time. "Yes."

The bespectacled man jumps in. "Did the company not do well to make the debut happen?"

Jungkook sees the red light ahead, and tries not to fall into the trap of mocking his former agency. "They did their best in getting us to debut. We practiced over ten hours a day, but things weren't as smooth sailing when the member lineup kept changing. The plans, the concept kept changing as well--"

"Rather than saying the company didn't do well, would you say it was the members - you and the other guys - who were not working hard enough for your dreams?"

The woman with the pointed chin speaks up for the first time, and her ice-cold and authoritative voice leaves the entire room frozen. Her no-nonsense question shows the impatience she has for Jungkook's safe answer. With her back lurched forward, she rests her stiff arms on the table, expectant on what Jungkook has to say. 

Admittedly, the question is thrown unto Jungkook like a curveball. This is a question to test his will and his metal, and he will not dodge from it. 

Jungkook clasps his hands together, his quiet voice redeeming. 

"There's a saying that actions speak louder than words. Would you mind if I... um, show you a little of what I've been practicing?"

The suggestion has the eyes of the male interviewers lighting up in split second. 

Understandably, the day has been incredibly long, and quite possibly dull with similar ins-and-outs. Continuous interviews under a day is demanding for both the panel interviewers and candidates, calling for both high energy and high concentration levels. It is easy for candidates to get 'lost-in-the-crowd', making up just another number in the list. 

Having learnt from his previous failed attempts, Jungkook decides he has nothing to lose when it comes to leaving behind a deep impression.

The woman sinks back into her seat and gives Jungkook a firm nod. "Okay. We'll play you a random dance track."

Letting out the long breath that he had been holding, Jungkook loosens his tightened muscles and joints with a quick series of stretching. He lifts both his hands above his head, pulling his interlaced fingers towards the ceiling. His upper body twists to the left then to the right, and then he finishes the warm-up with a forward bent at the waist. 

"I'm ready." 

A contemporary RnB slow jam track blasts from the speaker of the interviewer's laptop. The dated-sounding guitar riff kicks off the song. As the singer's soulful voice blends into the slow groove, Jungkook sheds his soft and delicate-looking expressions. His round, bright eyes taking a dramatic dark turn as he lifts his lowered gaze from the carpeted floor.

Here we are all alone in this room

And girl I know, where to start and what we're gonna do...

Let me take you down

I really want to take you down

Immersing his body to the trap tune, Jungkook's gestures start off small, with a snap of his finger and a bounce of his arm dancing according to the beat. Gradually, his moves begin to exaggerate, as he extends his arms and knees with a little more command. The movement of his dance are no less than perfect, complete with sharp and slick execution of the choreography. Evidently in his element, he delivers the meaning of the song perfectly with his four limbs. 

Jungkook has proven himself to be a good dancer, but he is proving to be an even better performer. His eyes, trained on the center of the panel, are charming and mesmerizing. His eye smile, sometimes shy but sometimes sly, depict a knowing confidence within him. He easily captures attention when he is one with music, but when he starts to flawlessly dance and sing along to the refrain of the song - with a perfect pitch and a stable vocal delivery - the interviewers are left to swallow their own doubts.

When the music cuts off, Jungkook's ragged breathing is the only thing that hangs in the air.

Three sets of throats clear with short and firm grunts, one after another.

"That was quite a show..," the man in the leopard print remarks.

"Thank you sir." Jungkook responds, wiping off the dripping sweat on the sides of his face. His mellow eyes return in the blink of an eye, and he fumbles to tidy the edge of his shirt, half pulled out from its initial tucking. 

"You have a talent for performing, and it's a definite pity that the world did not get to see you," the bespectacled man addresses Jungkook when the air falls silent again. "Instead of applying at another agency, what was the reason that you spent four years in the military?"

For the very same reason that I was afraid of being rejected again. For the same reason I had nowhere else to go to.

Jungkook understands that there is no need for them to uncover such truths. He lifts his steadfast eyes. "I extended my military service because I felt that I could contribute to the team, and serve the people. At the time, they needed strong, young men who could go the distance. I said yes. My time at the military has not been the easiest, but looking back, I've learnt many invaluable things in life."

The woman in the middle of the panel has her eyes pierced at Jungkook when her cold voice rings again. "But what skills do you have to offer to our company? Why should we hire you, and not those fresh applicants out there?"

Jungkook's nerves give away with the slightest smile, but he takes his time with his answer, injecting meaning to every word of his reply. "I've not done much besides singing, dancing, taekwondo, filming and editing videos for fun. Although I am interested in the work that your company does, I do not have the technical qualifications that this internship requires either. Instead of spending years studying, I've done most of my learning on the job, regardless of the industry. I'll be honest, I'm a wildcard... I may be a playing card without any particular value, but I can also be used to substitute any other card to complete a winning hand. That's all I would like to say."

"Last question, what would you do if you did not get this job?"