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."
And with that, she left and Mr. Jung closed the door behind him.
He released a heavy sigh and placed his head against the door for only a moment before remembering the other person in the room.
"As for you," he spun around, pointing a finger at the male, "who do you think you are?"
The intruder bowed his head and gently pulled off the mask and the bucket hat, placing them with the hoodie on another chair waiting against the wall. He turned his eyes to meet the black eyes of the dancer in front of him.
"You!" Mr. Jung snapped, pointing at the boy in front of him, "I know you! Where do I know you from?"
The intruder bowed his head and replied, "My name is Choi San, sir. You've seen me on TV or...or online. I'm terribly sorry about this."
The man blinked and looked at him for a moment trying to understand what he was saying.
"I didn't mean to come in here but I had people following me and my manager was missing and I don't have a bodyguard at the moment so I was alone and--"
"You talk an awful lot," Mr. Jung spoke, "Just...get out as soon as you can."
San nodded and thanked him for his patience before pulling out his phone and his wallet.
He called his manager and explained to him what was going on as Mr. Jung strode back to his phone and started looking through the list of songs that were going to be practiced soon. They were going to upload the covers to the Youtube channel soon, so his choreo needed to be perfect.
Not like they were going to be kicking him out of the studio anytime soon. He was one of the teachers here, he had a spare key.
"Yeah...thank you. Yes, sir," San spoke into the phone before hanging up and properly going through his wallet.
The action caught the attention of the man.
"What on earth are you doing?" Mr. Jung questioned, his deadpan voice making San hesitate.
His fingers pinched onto the biggest note of money he had and he pulled it out as the teacher walked over to him. He held it out to Mr. Jung and tried to not look intimidated.
"I...I'm paying you," San spoke softly, "For hiding me. I interrupted your practice, I should pay for the trouble I've caused and--"
"You really do speak too much, you know that?" Mr. Jung interrupted, pushing the money away, "I don't need nor do I want your money. So just...relax, okay?"
San swallowed and shifted his feet awkwardly before placing the wallet back in his pants pocket and keeping the note pinched between his thumb and pointer finger.
"San," Mr. Jung said clearly, his voice stern, "I don't want your money. Put it away."
The boy nodded and slowly tucked the note into his pocket as well.
Mr. Jung watched the boy for a moment then shifted his gaze to the white and black clock on the wall.
"It's rush hour right now, and considering we're in the middle of Seoul, your manager isn't going to be here anytime soon," Mr. Jung spoke, "So just...take a load off, okay? Take a seat. I don't mind you watching me practice."
San nodded and moved Mr. Jung's hat and mask onto his lap, sitting on the chair.
Mr. Jung looked at the list again before he decided on a song that he'd already done before. He just didn't have confidence with any of these newer songs, they didn't have the beats that he was looking for.
He carefully played the song and with meticulous discretion, Mr. Jung pulled off a stunning display for San. It was truly something that others would need to enjoy if they could.
"You're very good at that, you know?" San commented softly, "You should choreograph for companies. They'd pay you an awful lot."
The male scoffed and replied, "Like they would even take me. I've heard people audition and then turn around when they're not accepted and give up their entire talent. I won't let that happen to me."
"But it wouldn't happen to you," San replied, suddenly feeling a slight rush of confidence, "You're...amazing. I would kill to have you as a teacher! And-and my company would pay you a lot of money to train idols to be better, trust me!"
"Trust you? I barely know you!" Mr. Jung snapped back, "I've known you for about ten minutes and you've spoken a total of five times. At this point, the only reason I'm letting you stay is because if I let you go out there, they're going to tear you apart!"
Mr. Jung took in a breath and calmed himself down, closing his eyes and counting to ten in his head.
"I've seen what fans can do to an idol, to a celebrity, when they don't have security with them and it isn't pretty," Mr. Jung spoke in a softer tone, "If someone recognizes you, not only will you get hurt but imagine your reputation as well as mine."
San thought about it for a moment but didn't reply. Mr. Jung knew exactly what he wanted San to be thinking and it didn't take long for the idol to realize what he meant.
An idol seeing a teacher that his company didn't hire without a bodyguard nor his manager? He would be labeled as a joke. As for the choreographer, Mr. Jung would get pinned down and be made fun of as well, for teaching an idol that would have been labeled as useless.
How humiliating....
"Okay," San breathed out, his confidence shriveling up like a river during a drought. He silently apologized and kept his head down, his hands on his knees.
Mr. Jung took a step back for a moment and looked at the scene.
It didn't make sense...
A buzzing caught his attention and San looked at his phone screen before standing up. He left the hat and mask on the chair, quickly walking from the room and closing the door silently.
The dance teacher sat down in the middle of the floor and looked in the mirror at the chair where San had been sitting.
It was hard to imagine, an idol lacking that much confidence. To be fair, he had been a touch too rough on San.
But the young idol looked like he was used to it. Which was strange, being used to verbal attacks is strange for anyone.