The rebel crown prince Jeon Jungkook, starts to feel something special towards the slave dancer Park Jimin.
Two of them living in completely different worlds. While the crown prince of Seoulvenia, Jeon Jungkook, wants freedom from his entitled roya...
Jimin ran as fast as he could, sprinting down the mountain and weaving through the narrow alleys of Ruvana. The city was a maze of tightly packed buildings, dimly lit by flickering lamps, but he knew every corner, every shortcut.
Some familiar faces from his neighborhood noticed him dashing by. A few sneered, others called out greetings, but Jimin didn't spare them a glance. There was no time. Not today.
He had to get home, change, and be at the theater before 7 p.m. He knew the consequences of being late—and he would rather not face Lord Eishi's wrath.
Lord Eishi, their owner, was a greedy man. His body had grown fat from exploiting the lives of the helpless slaves under him. A few days ago, he had summoned Jimin, Jihyo, and J-Hope, instructing them to prepare for a special performance. Tonight, the theater was expecting some distinguished guests.
Normally, the trio would have visited Ruvana's most notorious gambling hall to entertain nobles from neighboring cities. But tonight, the stakes were higher.
Jimin, Jhope, and Jihyo were known throughout Ruvana. Their dancing captivated audiences with every step, every movement flowing seamlessly with the rhythm of the music. People came back again and again, mesmerized by the trio. Lord Eishi profited immensely from their talents, though many pitied them.
"If only they weren't slaves..." people whispered. "They could've been royal entertainers, for sure."
Jimin skidded to a stop in front of his home, clutching the doorframe for support. He was out of breath, sweat dripping down his face and soaking his clothes. His face glowed red, like a ripe apple from exertion.
J-Hope, mid-preparation and adorned with his performance accessories, looked up and let out a relieved sigh.
"Ah! You're finally here!"
Jimin nodded, still gasping for air.
"Go get ready," J-Hope said. "Lord Eishi messaged me himself. He said we need to hurry."
Without hesitation, Jimin dashed inside, closing the door behind him. His mind raced—not only with the urgency of the performance but also with the familiar weight of his life in Ruvana, where every second counted and failure wasn't an option.
As he changed into his costume, he could hear the muffled music and bustling voices from the theater. The night was just beginning, and for Jimin, every step, every movement, would be a performance that could either save him or push him further into the chains of his reality.
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