Danger (너 지금 위험해)

99. Why So Early?

Jung Kyumin

Kyumin figured the cute dance teacher girl came early to practice by the oh-so-hated sounds resonating from his ceiling at an unusual hour.

Why so early?

This would be his third lesson and he looked forward to it way too much. After the flirtatious smoking, he wondered how to catch her eye more.

She was deviously confident.

He snuck away from the basement, clothed in his own gym attire to watch her from afar if possible. The sight of her made him relax, tension from lack of inspiration dissolved, when he just stood there, beer in his hands, viewing the scene silently from the shadows of a hallway. The narrow glass window in the doors let any wandering visitor know the classroom is occupied.

The untamed sculptor loved the precision and the sight of her lean body gliding smoothly around the space with precise moves cutting the air, made him immensely satisfied.

...

Kyumin never had guessed dancing could look like this. Communicating this many emotions using just the body. It was exasperating to learn how to dance, but somehow he liked it and after the first try he felt impatient.

Maybe I have talent.

Alone, at home, the focused boy watched tutorials adamant he wouldn't be lame in the next lesson. He would stand out, he'd be the best one there and she had to notice.

Nobody is allowed to find out.

It would be embarrassing if Cholsu and the others knew he was dancing in the evenings. Even more when he was always so open about his stance on the matter. The rage-filled boy used to hate it wholeheartedly. Not so long ago arguing with others passionately that it was indeed a lesser art form for stupid untalented people. Masking their uselessness by jumping around.

It wasn't artsy.

Art was manifesting your emotions onto the paper, clay maybe even the stupid photographs like those dumbasses with cameras did, but not dancing. Dancing was for weak and untalented ones, the secretive boy remembered thinking this himself not so long ago.

What if I really like it?

Should I talk to her again?

Frenzy filled up most of his working days. It always helped him get the best of his art. Creating in drunken aggression gave his sculptures distinctive layers of emotions. His fingers grabbed chunks of slippery clay and slammed it down onto the wooden construction. He would cry out of frustration if he was alone, not in front of the others though. The process was more painful than satisfactory most of the time. This rabid tension inside him never slept.

Dance tamed it slightly, but steadily. Filling him with different kinds of fire.

😳 Author's corner 😊

📜 Do you feel talented in some way? 📜

🖌️ Jung Kyumin 🎨

🎙️ Playlist for the mood🎤

I'm sorry for the lack of the original illustrations, I ran out of time and available laptop to do them. I left the rest of the random graphics in black and white or rarely in color because my cover is black and white too.