Dance King

Intrusive Fears

He walked into the dance studio at a fast pace, his feet carrying him past the receptionist, who stared at him for a moment before going back to her work.

Obviously, he must be joining someone else for a session. They were teaching a class in the main studio at the moment.

Fortunately for him, he turned into a private room and quickly pressed his back against the door as he listened to his heart beat loudly in his chest.

Running six blocks does that to you.

His phone buzzed in his pocket with notifications from his manager but he would ignore them for now, instead his eyes turning to the male that was humming as he lay on the fold-out chairs against the far wall. His phone was held high in the air, thumb scrolling past Instagram posts and his earbuds blaring music from an era of music that was almost forgotten.

The male quickly noticed the other person in the room and huffed with annoyance as he sat up.

"Look, dude, this is a private dance room. The class lessons are happening across the hall, first glass door on the right," the man explained, plucking his earbud out and letting it hang as the other stayed in.

The other man, the intruder, simply shook his head, trying to form words. But his lungs were still too deprived of oxygen for him to actually speak, so he instead just stared at the other man.

"Yah," the man spoke with annoyance, his hair drifting slowly into his eyes, "You speak Korean? English? I can say it both ways, I've had to before."

The intruder heard a cluster of voices outside the door, slowly getting louder as they approached and in worry, he slid to the floor and hid away from the frosted glass window in the corner next to the door.

The man, confused, asked him what he was doing, but before the intruder could answer, there was a knock at the door.

"Mr. Jung? Can we have a session soon?"

It was a feminine voice and it obviously made the "Mr. Jung" uncomfortable as he stood up and left his phone and earbuds on the chairs, seething irritation.

How many people were going to pester today?

Opening the door, Mr. Jung looked at the girl in front of him.

"Kimberly, I'm really busy today," Mr. Jung sighed out.

"But Lock told me that I should come to you to learn the choreo for the newest song," Kimberly whined, putting a hand on her hip.

Mr. Jung ran a hand through his long hair again, "Kimberly, I really don't think--"

"You have promised me that you would teach me, and here you are, stepping back from it again because...why?" Kimberly asked, crossing her arms over her chest, "Why are you constantly shutting me out? I just want to learn how to dance!"

"Mr. Jung, are you ready for..."

He turned to the side and saw the intruder wearing Mr. Jung's black bucket hat that covered his forehead and a black mask over his face and nose. No one could've recognized him, especially considering he was using Mr. Jung's black hoodie to cover whatever hair might have been peeking out.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," the intruder spoke, Mr. Jung blinking a few times before catching on.

Kimberly looked at the intruder for a moment before opening her mouth to ask a question that Mr. Jung answered without a second thought.

"Psych booked me for the afternoon. We were just about to start again," Mr. Jung explained, "I'm sorry, Kimberly."

She shook her head and put on a fake smile, masking her disappointment, "Don't worry about it. I'm sorry to have intruded on your practice. Good luck."