The first time I heard Dynamite play on the radio, I was with my friend Winona on the way to Dean and Deluca to meet with our Varsi friends. It was almost 9 p.m. then, but the traffic was still kind of heavy. It was bearable, though, because the drive wasn’t very long, and I was with company. The whole moment felt real and present when Winona out nowhere said that she really liked their cover of Fix You. I was delightfully surprised; this is how people know me now: a passionate fan. Someone her friends would tag on Facebook on anything BTS, like memes, random compilation videos, or tl;dr posts about them.
It became even more heartwarming when she said the whole song sounded great when I asked if she heard the whole thing or just a snippet of it. I felt seen, understood, and appreciated. I was feeling very lightheaded during the whole conversation because Dynamite was playing in the background. It’s a song I didn’t fall in love with the first time I heard it. I guess the fandom had always been split when it came to the song’s realization as a hit, but I always told myself that if the boys were happy, then I’m also happy. (Wow ah.)
The months following the day I officially declared myself as an ARMY (again, after a two-year hiatus) weren’t all that easy. I had a lot of fun being a fan during those times until the present, though. Circling back to old videos, coming across two years’ worth of material from them, and even going back to Twitter this year so I could follow their activities more religiously. It’s a ride, honestly. But it was also the time I was struggling with the (deteriorating) relationship I had with my parents. I even found myself deleting all my social media accounts that one time for a few days, then finally blowing up and straight up writing a letter addressed to the boys. I cried my heart out writing then because I realized I can never be this open about my feelings to anyone, but to them it was catharsis. I was a whole mess and I only got to admit to myself when I wrote them that letter.
It took me three pages.
It was an endless bout between me being happy and feeling fairytale-like, spending time with them through livestreams and me being mentally and emotionally exhausted because of how my parents treated me at home. And so I moved out. It was the most exhilarating moment I’ve had in this lifetime, because I remember playing Life Goes On while packing my things and emptying my room with my mattress, my side table, the stand mirror, books, everything. It literally felt like I was running away from home because I had a vicious fight with my parents. Only it didn’t, because I never spoke back to my parents, always just falling silent and having palpitations.
The day I was moving in to my new apartment, I didn’t remember what song I was playing. All I remember was me just watching Las Pinas’ establishments fade into view, as the moving company (thanks, Transportify) sped its way through C5.
I’ve been living in Taguig for almost two months now. This is what I’ve always dreamt of: waking up early in the morning, without the anxiety of thinking about how to interact with my parents downstairs, or how I can prepare my merienda without trying hard not to make a sound in the kitchen. Most of my days in that house I spent alone in my room. This happened for most of the lockdown period. It wouldn’t have been that bearable if it weren’t for my siblings who hung out with me regularly, though, so that one’s a redeeming factor. It was always just the three of us. And my dog.
The whole ride to Dean and Deluca with a song I don’t resonate so much with was spent on me actually falling in love with it. I don’t listen to it regularly the way I do with some of their older work (it’s Hold Me Tight and Butterfly for me), but right now it’s the song that defines a phase, with how the things in my life gained currency. Life Goes On is the soundtrack of my second chance at a healthy life when I moved out. Dynamite was the hasty reminder of how alive and meaningful it is for me to move at my own pace, and be calmly content with it.
So much has happened since I re-downloaded their albums on my Spotify’s local file back in October of 2020. I was scared, because I might have forgotten their songs already, thinking of ways to rewire my brain back to 2015. When I heard Hold Me Tight again after so many years, I was immediately brought back to that dingy dorm room I used to share with Chey and four other girls. It had the faint smell of aged wood that has been wet for years, and the erratic wifi connection that only seemed to work when you closed your eyes and prayed to whoever.
The first member who caught my eye was Jimin. But the first one I really fell in love with, even without knowing who he was in the group, was Jungkook. The sweetest thing about all this discovery was I just know how his voice sounds like. When the Save Me music video came out, I finally established how he looked like. The rest of the group came next, but I didn't fall in love just yet.
Before all this, I remember it was during their hwa yang yeon hwa era and I knew nothing much about them. It was just the I Need U song and music video for me, and that was it. When their album, The Most Beautiful Moment in Life Pt. 1, came out, I wasn’t looking forward to it. I didn’t even know it was coming out that year. But I grew to know all the songs. I was about to enrol for the first semester of second year, was just learning how to chain smoke in Antonio Street, asking my block mates other commute alternatives to Pasig aside from the UV Express shuttle. It was a boring year but I remember being in love with Hold Me Tight. A couple of months later, I’d find myself in that dingy, old dorm with Chey, praying our shitty wifi doesn’t fail us while waiting for the premiere of their Fire music video. We were on her bed sitting that night, suppressing our screams (and laughs at Jin as the cooking stove) because our other roommates were studying. It was prelims season in UST.
I had an on-and-off relationship with their music.
When I think about those years I first discovered their music, there are regrets. Because those were the years I lost them to white indie bands I thought I’d get to keep forever, when eventually the frontmen I held so much regard for, and the members I admired with all my (young) heart turned out to be assholes. I hate that I devoted so much time for these ignorant band members when there was Min Yoongi, who made hundreds of handcrafted gifts for the fans coming to their fan meet. There are so many endearing moments I can write about, honestly. None of these pseudo-deep, underground bands can ever amount to.
2020 was the year of coming to my senses, the year of actualizing what girlhood really is for me. This was the year of realizing things, humor aside. I really grew up with BTS, and I failed to tap into that for so many years. Somehow all the moments of recognition happened to me last year, when I slowly unearthed past Messenger conversations I had with friends that contained mentions about BTS, some Facebook Memories that showed past posts on my profile. (The latest was for their Wings Tour here in Manila, which I wasn’t able to go to. Heartbreakingly so, it was the last show they had here.)
As I’m writing this, there are only less than 24 hours before the Grammys. If someone told me that it was gonna happen back in 2017, I would do a double take and just laughed. Even for someone who really loved them, back then it was all still a pipe dream. But to echo what Namjoon said to his dad over the phone when they found out about their nomination, it really does happen. The triumph, the endearment, the overall happiness, it was all there. I was a mere spectator when I saw their post on Twitter that night, but I was screaming with them. I felt it with them, and for once I didn’t feel like I had to hide, like I was dreading something outside my room. It was just me and… some friends. On screen.
I don’t know how much ran through me that night when I heard Dynamite on the radio. I didn’t mean to grow all wistful, but it was a happy night, because I was alive, and looking forward to March 15. This is the age where I feel younger again, like an actual teenager living a normal teenage life. I’m in love with a band, constantly on the look-out for album sales, going crazy for pieces of photo cards and stickers. One night I came across a picrew generator. I played around it when Future by Red Velvet played on shuffle. This was what I used to dream of as a child—things that scream 15-years-old-on-a-school-night. I was calm, and I felt young.
But it’s not always me falling in love with all this everyday. Most of the time I ask myself why I’m still here, when I’m just as a dreamer as them. There is a slight twinge of envy in my heart: why are they achieving so much, while I’m here, probably going to die working and living on a pay check without even getting the chance to do what I love on a daily.
When a feeling like this arises, I go to my bookmarks and rewatch their 2020 Commencement Exercise speech. The number of times I’ve watched this is innumerable now; I’m now at that point where I associate calmness, acceptance and love with them. There are days I forget that they’re musicians, because I feel like they’re just close college friends I can message anytime. When the going gets really bad, I just repeat Jin’s part about starting earlier to study a choreography than the rest of the members because he is a “slow learner” and he needs more attention than the rest. The first time I heard his part, I cried my heart out because no one really told me about pacing myself without also hating myself. It turns out that I didn’t need to suffer every time a problem arises.
For a long time, I would cower in fear and anxiety over the simplest tasks I cannot do, for things I’d find hard to learn. The jobs I’ve taken the past two years all gave me anxiety. But Jin’s words really pulled me through. I still get panic attacks in the middle of my shift. The only difference now is I have them for a constant reminder: I’m doing okay. And I’ll be okay. It’s just a bad day, not a bad life.
My Grammy day will come. I know it will. But as Jungkook proudly puts it, they were lucky, but they worked hard for that luck.
—
When I think about all this, I count the months it took me to fall back in love with them. I started October 21, 2020, when I rewatched my favorite Jimin fan cams (he was my first bias!). After that, I treated rewatching their past Bon Voyage episodes as a pilgrimage. The last dregs of their activity that I remember so clearly before leaving the fandom was their Hawai’i trip. I never got to watch it in whole, so it was the first thing I checked out. The laughs were still there, and I still know all their names.
But here’s the thing: There are just too many things I can associate with their music during my formative years in UST. I can list down a handful of songs that remind of the momentous events in my life. For Hold Me Tight (again), it was the song I woke up to after a very long nap that one August afternoon in 2017. That same afternoon, my would-be boyfriend would send me a message hitting on me. It was also the song I played on repeat the night we broke up.
In 2018, I avoided the release of Euphoria, Idol, and Fake Love. The first two was because it was too happy, and I couldn’t seem to focus my eyes on something… euphoric that time. I dreaded our graduation. For Fake Love it was because I didn’t like relating my situation then to a “stupid” song. I was still processing my heartbreak. I didn’t want to hear anything about love being fake and dead and hurtful. When 2019 came, I was completely unaware of their new material. I didn’t push much effort then to know more.
I wouldn’t go much into detail about how I changed all that last year. All I know was how it felt like coming home to the things I left behind because I was such in a hurry to grow up. Every time I open a new album, about to pull out a photo card, it feels like 2015 again. I read somewhere that your 20s is just basically you falling back the things you used to love as a teenager, only with less shame and more passion, and if you’re lucky, with more money for merchandise. I am 23 and I treat pieces of paper and sticker sheets like precious crystals. It makes my heart happy.
The fact that I became closer to some friends who are also fans is also a plus. It feels as if I'm in a support group. If someone asked me what’s my favorite part about being a fan is, I would say it would be the people, and how BTS taught me a lot about community. Listening to Friends hits a lot different when you’re isolated because of the pandemic, and you really miss your friends. I think at some point of being a fan you’ll reach a point where you’re just thinking about the people you share the band’s songs with.
Tomorrow, I get to see them again onstage (online), with millions of eyes awaiting around the globe. I keep wondering how many more moments like this am I going to witness, knowing that they were just like me before, working hard, now reaching for the stars, owning the world. Or how many are still left before they leave the spotlight. Lately all I ever do is be anxious about things being temporary. But I'll just be counting on tomorrow to remind me that things are beyond okay right now, and that I don't need to worry about the future. For now, it's me, setting a 4 a.m. alarm for the livestream, and the waiting game for their stage and acceptance speech. Yes, they'll win.
Crazy how a single song on the radio takes you so many years back. Maybe I love Dynamite now.
Ang daldal ko. Hindi rin cohesive ang essay na ‘to. Pero masaya ako.
