BTS' J-Hope: How does it feel to watch him live in concert? It's a radiant experience, filled with fire and legacy

At six o’ clock sharp, the arena glowed red.

The lightsticks shone in every corner as the boxes on the stage began to rise. After a few ominous beats, a short video showed J-Hope driving — and carrying a mysterious box that seemed to contain a version of himself, trapped inside. The cheers intensified.

As the beats grew louder, shadows slowly emerged on stage. And that’s how the concert began — in a storm of hoots, shrieks, and cheers and the song What If. Chants of J-Hope echoed through the arena, blending with the classic BTS fanchants that called out every member’s name. Appearing in gleaming red, with shining gloves and shades, we saw the grim, determined Jung Hoseok first—the side of him that he had first unleashed in 2022 with the album Jack in The Box, a stark contrast from the sunny, smiling Hobi, as ARMY fondly calls him after seeing his antics off-screen.

But J-Hope isn’t just one version of himself. Throughout the concert, he morphed — from raw and furious in Arson and More, to reflective in One the Street, and soulful in Sweet Dreams.. With flourish, he sent ripples of nostalgia across the arena with old BTS hits: Mic Drop and Silver Spoon. With Mic Drop, he knows that the crowd is waiting to scream his bandmate Suga’s line from the song Miane Omma (I’m sorry Omma) The powerful, rage-filled song has been an anthem for years, and gets more evocative as time goes by.

As the setlist unfolds, it feels like walking through BTS’s timeline, sometimes forward, sometimes in reverse—reliving the eras that shaped them. And with each transition from Hoseok to J-Hope to Hobi, his clothes changed too, from streetwear to shirt and jeans. You see the smile, the famous ‘sunshine’ smile that you’ve heard so much about.

You see an artist soaking in the love and chants with delight; the sheer joy is etched in his face, as he closes his eyes for a few seconds. It was as if April 2023 to October 2024 had never happened; he hadn’t ever gone to military service, and he had just been performing everyday.

There’s something surreal about standing in an arena with what seems like a million flickering lights, red, blue, to yellow. The posters fly high, some vocalising their love for him, with photocards and posters. It’s easy to see why he is so loved. It’s not only the impeccable and legendary dancing skills, and the vocal range. It’s the artist, the person themselves. “J-Hope of BTS,” he stressed clearly.

There should never be a doubt.

It's an artist who treasures his roots and respects his fans. Appreciation is a weak and pale word; it doesn’t encapsulate on what J-Hope feels for fans. The respect shows in the details. It shows in performing exactly on time, knowing that his fans had waited six hours just to see him, most of them had even travelled from different countries. The love showed in the way he smiled and laughed with fans, asking them to sing along without music, helping them through the words.

The concert ended. But the arena was filled with purple lights, and chants of J-Hope didn't fade.