At the end of our fourth date, Amy and I have our first kiss. SEVENTEEN’s “Left
& Right” autoplays on YouTube in the background. It is not, I would say, the right
romantic mood – the song goes, Left and right / Left and right / Left
and right / Rip it, rip it (Woo-ooh) – but I leave feeling right
about this: what would become my first relationship. I’ve never been left
feeling like I wanted to go on another date, and another, know what the right
butterflies felt like, or that they even existed in the first place, left
empty by the failed first dates and lackluster kisses after a swipe right
on a stranger. Both of us fell into the expansiveness and queer subtext of kpop, left
our depressive voids to fill with a hyperfixation tied to fandom, and right
as we were saying I love you to each other, we came back to “Left
& Right” and fell into the chaotic energy of “SEVENTEEN right
here,” watching their music videos and variety every night, left
with wanting to consume more content. Perhaps what felt right
about this was falling in love with a group together
while we were falling in love.