INTERTWINE

donghyuck lee

There he was again. The same street. The same block. The same studio.

It was late into the evening, and the only thing that could be heard was the heavy breaths that had been so desperately squeezed out from Donghyuck's lungs. Sweat trickled down his face, to his jaw and slowly dripped onto the floor profusely, gradually creating a tiny wet puddle beside him. With a quick swipe of his palm across the side of his face, Donghyuck heaved a heavy tired sigh and looked at himself through the misty glass mirror.

I will do better. I can do better. I will show them, he thought to himself.

I will be better than everyone else. Better than ever.

And so, he closed his eyes and pictured himself how he wanted to execute his movements with precision, accuracy and grace. His chest rose and flattened in a steady pace, calming down his beating heart. He rotated his neck, his joints being released as they cracked loudly. He narrowed his eyes, focused his occupied mind, and got ready to dance again.

With that, he moved. The room was silent with only the occasional squeaks of his worn out Nikes, but his movements were loud and clear. He stretched all the way to the tiniest ligaments, and it looked like he could touch the moon. His light steps made his dance seem so effortless, while he tried to release more energy from his already drained and exhausted body. His movements were unpredictable. A sudden pause after a series of smoothly transitioned footwork, or a little release of his upper body that were followed suit by a slight melt of his knees.

You named it, Donghyuck did it.

And Mark Lee was there to witness this embodiment of a naturally beautiful phenomenon.

Every minute and second of it.