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It was missing.  Hobi’s quintessential smile.  That ray of sunshine that had cheered the hearts of so many ARMYs around the world. 

But 2020 had tested that smile past its breaking point.  And, tonight, as Hobi prepared to ring in the new year with his friends, he couldn’t be sad that a year of testing and trials was coming to a quick end.  Though, it had taken months to reach that flat finish.

Tonight, the old year would end.  

Good riddance, 2020.  You brought me much disappointment.  You wreaked havoc on certain parts of my career.  While oddly blessing others.  Still.  I’m hoping for better things in 2021.

––

The old year passed away, and Hobi felt no nostalgia about letting this one go.  2020 had brought a unique trial upon the whole world.  In the form of the coronavirus.  Such an odd name.  To be termed after a crown, that illustrious object that usually exemplified the rights of a king.  And the power inherent in his position.

Hobi was a king of sorts.  Perhaps the king of dance.  Definitely one of the seven kings who comprised the K-pop band, Bangtan Sonyeondan.  Known around the world as BTS.

A musical group whose star had, in the last two years, begun to rise at an astronomical rate.  Concert venues in America had filled up, overwhelming the months from April to June.  2020.  Until they had emptied instantly – every single one postponed indefinitely – due to the unexpected pandemic that had ruined all their plans and devastated their fan base.  And disappointed the boys. 

The four walls of their bedrooms had become like a newfound prison.  For months.  As they – along with the rest of the world – waited for the restrictions to lift.  And life to return to normal. 

But it still hadn’t.  The boys had sat through nearly a year now.  Waiting.  For a vaccine that would wipe out the pestilence that had stolen the lives of many.  Especially those who were most vulnerable to its devastating effects.  The elders.  Those whom the boys respected most.

They had heard from ARMYs who had kissed their grandmothers goodbye.  Or their grandfathers.  It seemed that many people now knew someone who hadn’t survived the horrid scourge. 

BTS had desired one thing in 2020.  To put together an album that would lift the spirits of their faithful – and sorrowful – fans.  And they had done it.  Together, the seven Bangtan Boys had used their talents to bare their hearts.  They had collaborated to create BE.  An album their ARMY would never forget.  A message of hope.

Hobi’s favorite word.

He had, after all, created his stage name around that word.  J-Hope.  Then had come Hope World.  Now he was hoping to infuse the world with that sense of wonder and expectation once more.

But he was growing weary – as was everyone else – of the silent battle that raged.  And the emptiness that filled his days.  Far too many hours to himself now.  Learning how to love the silence. 

Still, he had no love for it.  He missed his fans.  He yearned for the stage.  He longed for the exhilaration that had always lifted him above even the experience as the crowds had chanted his name and cheered him on.  He loved dancing for his ARMYs.

And doing it inside four walls just wasn’t the same.