Dance to This [kth]

t w e n t y • t w o

"Yeah. . ." I reply hesitantly.

Jimin is antsy with questions for me. "Did they give you anything? What was wrong?"

His questions collect themselves with the distant buzz in the back of my head. Is it right for me to be skeptical of him now? I suppose only if I assume his relationship with Jungkook is real would I have reason to believe he is lying to me. I look up at him, but his friendly stare back takes me by surprise. Are you lying to me? I ask this to myself, my eyes are locked with his. My silent question goes unanswered, but I will find out.

"What?" I ask. "Who?"

"Health services. Professor said that's where you were going."

"Oh," I raise my eyebrows as if remembering. Pretend. "Yes. . . um, it was just a little anxiety. I was studying too much and wasn't sleeping. I'm fine now."

I am more than fine. I don't need sleep when my hours awake motivate and empower me.

Hoseok nods at my words. "Alright. Eunha, I think you should do some rotating planks and stability sequences. Jimin, continue with the bicep repetitions."

His instruction is obvious to me. We are supposed to be in the fitness center in order to condition ourselves to withstand the entirety of the play, but without my sneakers I don't see how I can safely perform any of the beneficial workouts. I glance around at the other dancers, and see that they are all doing their own regimes. I sigh.

"I don't have my sneakers," I tell my choreographer, "I forgot them."

"Seriously?" Hoseok wants to roll his eyes, but the professionalism sets in when a subtle groaning complaint is used instead.

"Yes, seriously." I challenge him. "I was running around and I forgot to pack them."

Running around. Fleeing campus due to an attack by my druggie roommate seems to sound better when I sugar-coat it for others. I have no choice. Jungkook made sure to make that crystal clear: I will not be telling anyone else about what happened. For now, I have to blame myself for not bringing what I need to practice. The feeling is similar to that of torment on Christmas Eve. . . not being allowed downstairs to see presents until the morning.

"Maybe we could do lifts together?" Jimin suggests to Hoseok as an alternative.

"I guess," he agrees. "We can discuss the choreography together then, too."

The decision prompts me to sit down next to my bag and retrieve my pointe shoes. I am in need of a new pair, but these will be good enough for just today. The ribbon is light against my fingertips when I pull at them gently. The light colored fabric is easy to handle when I take them from my bag.

My scuffed shoes are set aside as I prepare my toes in a routined fashion. I try to ignore the feeling of the stares I'm getting from the rest of the cast behind me as I work to prepare my feet, and I distract myself with my motions as I wrap my toes with tape and cushioning. The distraction almost works until I begin to overhear Jimin and Hoseok a few feet from me. The new distraction is much more interesting than my feet.

"Go easy," Jimin tells Hoseok. "I have a shift right after this."

He is talking about his job at Linnie's Diner.