A/N: The picture above is not an exact outfit reference :) Also, wow, we're really nearing the end here... If I've got enough time, I'll upload the next chapter(s) a bit sooner than the usual Saturday. But for now: I hope you'll enjoy this one! Ly!🧡
I can already hear the music in San's and my flat as I stand in front of our door, key in my hand. It's Wonderland, the fifth song of our performance – and at the thought of having to perform the choreo to it in less than twenty-four hours, and in front of the jury for the admissions to the Festival of Lights, has a rush of adrenaline cursing through me.
I've been practicing a lot the past days, I really have – but right now, I'm starting to wonder whether that was enough. Or maybe it was too much, so much that my moves will look boring because I'm not paying proper attention anymore- God, I hate this. I feel almost as nervous as when I first auditioned here to get admitted to transfer.
And you've got an A+ on that audition, so there's really no need to be afraid of not being good enough, I try to tell myself while turning the key in the lock and opening the door.
San takes exactly this moment to sing along to the refrain in our kitchen: "neoneun yeogiseo meomchul tenga geutorok weonadeon geoshi yeogie oh... oh, hey Woo." He stops mid-dance, panting a bit, his chest heaving. "How was your day?"
"Long. Yours?"
"Short." San grins. Then his grin morphs into a rather downtrodden expression. "I wanted to practice a bit more before tomorrow, but all the studios at uni were booked."
"Really?"
"Mh."
"They should give us special access rights to the practice rooms." I frown. "Especially since there aren't that many groups performing tomorrow."
San nods in agreement. "I think it's eight groups in total.- But the thing with the studios, it's not that bad. I'm sure I could just ask Hongjoong-Hyung if I really needed a studio to practice in, but it works here too- Oh, if it disturbs you though, I can of course text and ask him!"
"It's fine." I find myself smiling involuntarily. "I wanted to practice a bit too, anyway." Lies. "Let's practice together."
San pauses and, tilting his head, squints at me. "Today is Monday...", he slowly states. "Isn't that the day where you've got your seminar in the morning and three dance classes after?"
I nod hesitantly.
"Then you shouldn't practice any more today", San tells me. "We're gonna eat first. And then, you go to bed and I- oh, I can use headphones to practice so I won't disturb you!"
"Can't you cuddle me to sleep?"
Shit. The nine hours I spent in uni today must have destroyed my inner filter on what to say and what only to think.
San flushes red. "I- I, um..."
Suddenly, I feel like an awkward middle schooler in the middle of puberty who's just got his first crush – not like a somewhat grown-up student who knows that said crush is more than a crush and even likes him back.
The last couple of days left San and me with barely enough time to spend together – and for a moment I almost forget those few times where we already went beyond just cuddling and kissing.
Still red in the face, San clears his throat. "I want to practice a bit more – but after that, sure? But practice... I just really need to do it because... I've told you my grandparents will be there tomorrow, right?"
Right, he did.
I nod.
"Even if we're not gonna win – I just wanna make them proud... Oh, but you know what?" San gasps, delighted: "I can introduce you to them after our performance!"
"To your grandparents?" I cower.
How does San want to introduce me anyway? As the guy he kisses and cuddles and occasionally hooks up with?
"Don't worry, they're nice people." San laughs when he sees my face. "They really are."
"Ha." I try to laugh and sound relaxed. "Sure. Okay."
"Great." San beams at me. "But now, let's eat dinner. What should we order?"
I've forgotten everything.
No matter how much I try to recall the last Ateez dance practices and the two rehearsals we did on stage, I can't remember a thing. My mind draws a blank.
Were we dancing in sync? Did I manage some of the more difficult moves with enough accuracy, and did I get all the right angles? What were some of the more difficult moves anyway?
"Wooyoung. Are you okay?"
I blink, only to see Yeosang's face right in front of me, looking concerned. "Wooyoung", he repeats and puts a hand on my shoulder. "It's just an audition. Don't be nervous."
His hand is trembling a bit.
I swallow and look behind him. There are people walking past the door to our backstage room; in a second they'll take their seats on the table that's placed directly in front of the stage. Five jury members - five people in expensive suits and dresses. The dress shoes of the bold man, who was the last to walk past our door have probably cost twice as much as my whole outfit – dress pants, fancy black shirt, black shoes, and some kind of hat that we're not supposed to put on before our last song, Hala Hala.
Yeosang's wearing black too. We all do; Seonghwa insisted on it. And although he didn't directly voice it, I know he must still be worried because of San's pink hair that doesn't match the kind of adventure-anonymity-mystery vibe that Seonghwa and Hongjoong want us to pull off. They both texted me a few days ago to ask if I knew whether San had any plans on dying his hair in another – more neutral – color. And they both insisted that I shouldn't bother asking San himself about it.
Right now, San's pink hair looks more radiant than ever, despite him standing in one of the far, shadowy corners of the room, huddled together with the rest of his vocal quintet - and even though he doesn't know about Seonghwa's and Hongjoong's concerns, I don't want to imagine how he's feeling right now: his grandparents have come all this way here to see him, he has to perform with us as part of Ateez, and with his vocal quintet. Because just like Hongjoong, his singing teacher had decided that they should audition on the earliest date possible.
"I feel like I might throw up", I admit to Yeosang. I'd thought there wouldn't be much of an audience today, brought-forward date and everything, but I was so, so wrong. It feels as if at least half of the student body has already walked past our door to the stands, and some minutes ago I even saw Jimin arm-in-arm with Yoongi and together with their five friends. They're only here for watching today, but I'm sure they'll kill it next week. They probably don't need today's extra bonus of not everything having to be perfect.
"You're gonna be fine", Yeosang says, gripping my shoulder tightly. "We're the first ones up, remember? We'll be done soon."
"Are you two okay?" It's Jongho who's approaching us now. "You look like you're feeling sick."
I'm about to deny it all – but Yeosang nods. "Quite the big stage", he remarks monotonely.
"It'll be alright."
I would've expected anyone to say those words – Seonghwa, Hongjoong, Mingi, Yunho, San – but not Jongho.
Jongho rolls his eyes when he meets my gaze. "Don't look so surprised, Wooyoung. If I can manage our choreos, so can you."
"Uh... thanks?"
Sighing impatiently, Jongho folds his arms. "That was not a compliment, it was a fact."
Yeosang snickers and whispers, "It so was a compliment", into my ear, and I'm starting to feel just a little bit better.
"Hey Yeo- oh, am I interrupting something?" Looking almost as nervous as Yeosang at the prospect of having to perform in less than ten minutes, Juhee stops in the doorway.
"Not at all", I reply quickly.
"Okay, good..." She is blushing, and her gaze is fixed on Yeosang. "I just wanted to wish you all good luck."
"Thanks", Jongho says.
"Thank you." Yeosang and I react at the same time.
"San played me the songs once, so I already know they're awesome", Juhee says, still more to Yeosang than Jongho or me. "So – yeah, good luck for performing them." She pauses for a second - then, quite abruptly, she scurries off.
"She is kinda cute I guess...", Yeosang mumbles, looking a bit lost in thought as he watches the door fall shut behind her.
"Ateez is up in five minutes!", someone announces over the small speaker in our backstage room, and I can feel bile rising up my throat.
That's it. We're performing now. Not just dancing but performing, because it's not only about stage presence and facial expressions but also - especially - about smooth transitions between the songs. Because it's not five small performances - it's one big one.
Five minutes. I've got this, I tell myself, even though I feel like I'm gonna get lost in the choreo the second that Pirate King will start.
A hand slides in mine and San suddenly smiles at me from next to me. "Come on, Woo, we've got this." He looks pale under his make-up, nervous – but somehow, he still makes me believe him. We've got this.
"Fighting", I reply hoarsely – just as Hongjoong appears out of nowhere, ushering us to gather one last time.
He doesn't hold a long speech about our choreos and songs like I expected him to. When the eight of us have come together in a circle, Hongjoong opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. "We can do this", he pronounces at last, solemn. "Our rehearsals last weekend were the best I've ever seen. And I know we're all nervous – but we have to pull ourselves together, because we can only do this as a team."
Yunho slings an arm around Mingi's shoulders, and Mingi smiles at him in return.
I take a step closer to San, and bump shoulders with Yeosang to my other side.
"What is our chant?", Hongjoong demands.
Almost in unison we take a step forward with our right leg, each drawing an eight on the ground with our feet. "Eight makes one team!"
The other groups in our room laugh and whistle at our chant, but I couldn't care less for the time being. I've got San to my left, Yeosang to my right side, and there's Seonghwa, Hongjoong, Jongho, Yunho and Mingi in front of me... and this, this feels like we're really one team, not eight individuals fighting their own battles and causes.
"We've got this", I blurt out, repeating San's words from just a minute prior.
"We do", Jongho confirms.
"Let's head to stage", Seonghwa suggests.
After one last shared glance, we do.