"Sex on drugs is mind-blowing. Wanna try?"
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Kim Migyung, a former prima ballerina who had to give up dancing after an accident. Not being able to do the only thing she's ever known, her dreams stripped away, she...
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Migyung sat a bit taut as she watched the dance teacher prepare them tea. He had a gentle smile on his handsome face, his otherwise angular face softened by his long hair framing his face. She wondered suddenly, just how many of the new dancers had joined the academy to see Nathan. She had no doubt that he made all the girls swoon and some boys too.
“What were you saying about the experience?” she inquired, breaking the silence as he placed a cup in front of her. He smiled brightly, taking a sip of his beverage as he encouraged her to drink as well. Having forgotten her previous need in the face of intrigue, she picked the steaming cup and took a sip of the clear liquid only to grimace when the taste hit her tongue.
Nathan chuckled, placing his cup down on the table and asked, “You don't like chamomile?” Migyung shook her head, taking another sip to see if she could get used to the taste but coughed instead.
Shaking his head, his smile softened as he looked at the younger woman who looked so innocent as she glared at the cup in her hand and told her what he knew she was dying to know, “By experience, I meant after I had to stop dancing.”
She looked up then, tilting her head. “Had to stop?” He nodded with the same smile on his face and continued, “Ankle injury, I didn't give time for it to heal and I had to quit or I would have become a handicap.”
That sobered Migyung up, her lips forming an ‘o’ as she looked down at the cup in her hands. He wouldn't be the first dancer she knew of who had pushed himself to this extent, in the name of dance, passion, craze. It took a truly crazy person to dance till they died. Like Giselle.
“You don't have to feel bad for me,” he said, seeing her downcast face. “Others have pitied me enough to make me pity myself to the point I thought I will never walk again. It had me drowning in alcohol and smoke but it really isn't a good place to be. You should never pity yourself.”
She gave him a thin smile thinking if he only knew how different their situations were. But are they? The voice inside her wondered. Shaking the thought away, however, she asked, “What made you stop?”
At her question, he knew exactly what she meant and his smile turned melancholy. “My mom wanted me out of the mud. My dad had all but lost hope. Then one day, I found out she had cancer and it was like a wake-up call. I didn't want her to see me like that, broken and shitty when she was already in so much pain. That's when I decided I needed to get better and be the man she wanted me to be. Got myself in rehabilitation and attended church, group therapy. It really helps.”
She nodded, she already knew it helped, she just didn't want it. “Your mom?” He smiled brightly at her mention and pointed towards his desk and to the framed photos she hadn't noticed before. “Healthy as a horse. It's been five years and I’ve never seen her that energetic. Energetic enough to keep bugging me to get married and give her grandchildren to play with.”
