I grew up in a family deeply rooted in music and the arts.
My father was the lead vocalist and co-founder of the iconic Manila band Hotdog, so music was a way of life in our household. By the age of four, I was already watching him perform onstage and witnessing how music could bring people from all walks of life together.
When I lost my dad in 2018, life felt emptier. Our family still went to concerts, but we always knew something was missing.
Then the pandemic happened. My sister discovered BTS and eventually turned me into a “baby Army,” a term used for someone who is new to BTS’ global fanbase. What began as curiosity became something deeper.
BTS’ music resonated with me and my family in ways I never expected
Many non-fans don’t quite understand it. Some see it as idol obsession. But for me, it was much more than that. BTS’ music resonated with me and my family in ways I never expected.
While K-pop grew during the pandemic, my experience with BTS felt different. Their music doesn’t just entertain. It stays with you.
When BTS announced they would be entering the military and focusing on solo projects, many of us wondered if it was the end of the group. But they promised they would return.
And here we are.
The ticketing war
Like many Armys around the world, we found ourselves chasing tickets across multiple destinations. As much as we wanted to be at the opening show in Goyang, we couldn’t secure tickets. After trying in several countries, we somehow ended up winning the Ticketmaster war and got tickets to the tour’s Las Vegas leg.
That meant working harder, saving more, and finding time to take leave from work. We knew this was an opportunity we couldn’t pass up. And it was absolutely worth it.
What made it even more special was experiencing it with my 71-year-old mom—a reminder that music truly knows no age.
What happened in Las Vegas
Seeing Las Vegas embrace BTS through citywide events, massive billboards, and fan activities, while watching 60,000 people come together to celebrate the “Arirang” album and BTS 2.0, was unlike anything I had experienced before.
This comeback felt like a mature reflection of who they have become. They are in a different era now, one where they no longer feel the need to conform.
The album feels like a work of art. The setlist was carefully curated, and the production felt less like a concert and more like an artistic expression of their individuality, growth, and pride in their Korean roots.
Their break did them good. They discovered new sides of themselves and returned stronger.
Most importantly, this comeback wasn’t about meeting expectations. It was a reminder that talent, authenticity, and experience will always shine through.
A privilege
As I write this, I’m back at work, looking at bills, yet I can’t stop feeling grateful for what I experienced.
Because this was a privilege.
In a world filled with disagreement, loss, grief, and daily struggles, music reminds us that we are more connected than we think.
In many ways, it reminded me why music has always mattered so much to my family.
I hope every Army gets the chance to experience that feeling and win their own ticket battle someday. And whether or not you ever attend a BTS concert, I hope you discover an artist whose music speaks to your soul, inspires you, and helps you reconnect with yourself.
