1| first look

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You've been struggling with the choreography for nearly two weeks now. Instructor Jung shakes her head in disappointment as you trip over your own feet and land on your butt for the hundredth time.

You look up to her from the floor, feeling defeat and confusion.

You've been a dancer since the age of 6 and enrolled in this professional dance studio a few months ago after graduating high school. You were selected as a top candidate among 573 applicants.

Instead of following your parents' dreams for you to attend college and work a corporate job until retirement, you want to dance.

Freely. Passionately. Beautifully.

"Why do you keep landing on your butt?" Jung-nim sighs, aggressively rubbing her forehead with her hand.

Dumbfounded, you just sit there and let your head hang low. Energy and confidence depleted, you say, "I have a lot on my mind lately."

Jung-nim nods slowly. "You're out of the show."

Your head shoots up so fast, you feel like your neck is going to break. "What?!"

She leans against the wall and slumps her shoulders. "We've been working on this choreo for two weeks and you're still not catching on. Other students have perfected this dance while you fail to do the arabesque properly."

Your vision blurs as your eyes are blanketed with tears. It's hard to see Jung-nim's face now because all you see is red. You blink and the tears finally fall.

Embarrassed, you quickly use the sleeve of your hoodie to absorb the moisture. Since you were raised with manners, you know not to argue with her decision. She must've been contemplating this for a while but continued to give you chances... Until now.

You stand up, preparing to run out of the private practice room. Jung-nim grabs your arm and turns you to face her.

"Yah!" she scolds, "I don't want to know what's going on in your personal life, but don't give up like this. There are other opportunities that will be better."

You roll your eyes at the pathetic pep talk, desperate to get out of her hands and into a restroom where you can cry in peace.

"Okay," you say flatly.

Jung-nim hugs you but you refuse to feel any warmth. You don't want to accept her hug.

She says, "I'll invite a former student with exceptional abilities to mentor you. He happened to be visiting today. Take a half hour break and meet me in this room again when it's time."

She releases her hold on your arm and you march out. How could she embarrass you like this and treat it as no big deal? You don't want a mentor. You want the lead in the upcoming show.

After releasing your emotions in the restroom, you let out one last angry growl and dry your face. You practice smiling in the mirror and hate the reflection you see. You scoff at yourself and head back to the practice room.

Standing beside the door, you hear Jung-nim laughing along with a male voice. You wonder if they're laughing about your poor performance. You listen carefully.

"...and he jumps so high he could've went right over my head!"

"Oh, that doesn't seem hard. You're not so tall anyway," Jung-nim retorts. They both laugh. It's not about you.

Relieved, you gently place your hand on the glass door and push.

He turns his head to your attention first. Your eyes meet. He must be wearing contact lenses, as his eyes are somewhere between a blue or grey color. His hair is a golden brown, and angelically wavy. It falls at his eyebrows perfectly. You wonder what he looks like with the hair parted, showing his entire handsome face.

His jawline is sharp but looks like it would be soft to the touch. Eyes searching his face rapidly, you glance over his petite nose and zone in on his lips. They look red and swollen. It reminds you of fresh apples.

Jung-nim interrupts your observations and stands before you in her pink sweatsuit. "Y/N, please meet your mentor, Park Jimin."

You glance at him again. "Hi, Jimin." You smile and bow. He must be the same year as you. He looks young. Is he qualified to mentor you, the top student of your class?

He bows to you as well. "I'm Jimin, and dancing is my life. I've been professionally involved in shows and performances since the age of 12. Dancing has been my job ever since."

You didn't ask for his introduction but you realize he is definitely more experienced than you are. He smiles sweetly, no cockiness or pride evident. You can't help but just stare at him, unsure what to say next.

Jung-nim coughs amidst the awkwardness. But to make matters worse, she insists you perform the choreo you've been struggling with for the past two weeks so that Jimin can observe your strengths and weaknesses.

After several minutes, you exchange some heated words as you refuse to embarrass yourself in front of Jimin after just meeting him.

Jung-nim obviously wins the argument in the end.

You drag your feet to the center of the practice room and look at your pouty reflection in the mirror, begging yourself not to look like a fool, and take a deep breath.

The music begins, and so do you. Things go smoothly as usual until the arabesque move. You go for the jump but there isn't enough energy pushing your body from the ground. You fall short and land on your butt again.

Too defeated to feel embarrassed at this point, you sprawl onto the floor, laying on your back. From the aerial view, you look like a dead starfish.

Jimin encourages you, "Not too bad. I have a good idea how we can improve your dance moving forward."

You sigh. Can this day just be over?

Jung-nim then insists Jimin show you his performance of the same dance. You scoot to the nearest wall and hug your legs, resting your chin between your bruised knees. You're bored at the thought of watching other people dance.

The music begins, and so does Jimin. His movements are sharp, but graceful. It seems as if his limbs are cutting through the air like a sword, but still fluid like water.

His hands are so delicate, even his fingers are involved in the choreo. His emotion-filled facial expressions captivate the viewers. His shirt slightly reveals his abs when he completes the arabesque flawlessly. You're so invested in his performance you feel your muscles are tense and shaky.

He makes no sound when his feet meet the floor again. He spins and looks at you, holding eye contact. You turn away, cheeks red and hot. Did someone turn up the temperature?

You refrain from watching the rest of Jimin's performance as you're sure he ended it flawlessly and you're reminded of your boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, or—it's complicated.

Jung-nim claps her hands. "Why aren't you performing in the show?" she asks Jimin.

He bows and laughs childishly, eyes crinkling into crescent shapes. "I'm preparing for a bigger show out of town."

"Oh, that's right," Jung-nim nods thoughtfully.

Tired of the small talk, you stand in your spot and purse your lips. His performance was undoubtedly impressive. So good that it was hard to watch without feeling attracted to him.

"Okay, Jimin. I'll accept you as my mentor."

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