Dance For Me • ENHYPEN

01: Castle Shaded From The Sun

one month ago

I won't mess up. Not today. Not again.

I grip the wooden barre cautiously, adjusting my stance and feet. I focus my eyes on Ms. Kang while she walks past me, monitoring our posture as she does after every practice session.

She holds a certain dominance, too strong for a mere instructor, that will make you respect her and superiority that is intimidating, leaving us feeling like we can't challenge her or express our own opinions.

I don't hate her, but in all honesty, I don't like her either. I just want to make my form accurate, as she is a perfectionist and will not tolerate any mistakes. I know that if I made a mistake, even in the slightest, I will be vulnerable to her criticism.

Feeling her fierce stare turn in my direction, I look down at my hands, taking a deep breath to rest my shoulders.

"Narae?" She catches me off guard right when I think she has moved on. Her tone is somehow serene, like the calm of a sea before a violent storm that freezes me in fear, unable to do anything but tremble.

At the moment, I feet powerless. I can't reply. I think if I ignore Ms. Kang long enough, she will turn her attention to the others, but that would only mean inviting torment. So, I meet her eyes with fear in my heart and ask, "Yes, ma'am?"

"Do you wish to break your legs?" She stares at me, her eyes cold and piercing, but I feel her anger radiating from her body.

"No, ma'am," I whisper, shaking my head.

She narrows her eyes and steps closer, her voice low and frightening. "Then, angle your feet correctly." She hisses, grabbing my ankles and moving them into position.

I wince in pain as she speaks. "If you wish to succeed you must take care of your body." She releases my legs and steps back, her eyes narrowing in anger. "Train hard and stay focused. Do you understand?"

I nod, trying to ignore the ache in my legs and even though I feel tired and uninspired, I know that following her instructions is the only way to improve at what I'm doing.

"Students, that's all for today." She clasps her hands, "Make sure to eat healthy and exercise regularly." She heads towards the studio exit, the sound of her heels clicking against the wood fading with the distance.

I let out a sigh of relief and despite feeling drained, I feel proud of myself for pushing through. After a good night's rest, I can look forward to doing it all again the next day.

"Narae." My ears perk at the sound of my name. I turn around to see Hareul standing near the door. "There's someone for you at the reception."

"For me?" I untie the ribbon of my pointe shoes, quickly slipping a jacket over my leotard. "Is it my mother?"

"No, not your mother." He curls his eyebrows together. "It's some guy."

Unusual. I never have visitors, especially in the studio, and my mother is the only one who visits me during my practice hours.

But I'm filled with anticipation as I grab my bag and step out, heading towards the reception. My heart pounds as I wonder who it could be, and I have no idea why someone would come to see me. I wonder if it was someone I know or a stranger.

When I reach the reception, I see a young man there, facing away from me. He is tall and slim, wearing a white shirt and dark formal pants.

As he turns around to face me, I see he has an air of mystery around him. His black eyes pierce my soul, and I feel like I have known him my entire life... But I have never seen him before.

"Hello, Narae." He extends his hand. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Why does he know my name?

"And you are...?" I ask suspiciously.

"Jungwon." He smiles politely, still holding out his extended hand. "Yang Jungwon."

"I'm sorry, do we know each other?" I ponder, but eventually shake his hand. His skin is cold, and I feel strange energy radiating from him. He gives me a knowing look before smiling. "Not quite, but you can call me a 'fan,' perhaps."

"A fan? Of what?" I mutter, mocking his words out of confusion.

He laughs. "Of you, of course." He winks with a glimmer in his eyes. "I'm a fan of you. A fan of your work. Your dance."

My face lights up with pride, and my cheeks flush red. "Thank you!"

"And those are for you." He gestures toward the reception desk with a flower bouquet on top. I feel a wave of emotion wash over me. Who is this guy? And why flowers for me?

Their vibrant colour catches my attention as I walk over to the desk, but upon a closer look, they don't look like flowers.

With the veins running across their surface, they resemble leaves. Red leaves. I slowly reach out my hand and touch one of them. It's soft and fragile. I pluck on it, sniffing for the presence of any scent. No scent.

"They're real but... red leaves?" I mutter to myself before turning to face him.

He is gone.

"Did you see the person here with me a few seconds ago?" I ask the receptionist, but she shakes her head.

"There was no one here except you." And I feel a chill down my spine. I'm sure he was here, but he disappeared as quickly as he appeared.

"Then who brought these in?" I point toward the flowers.

She looks around for a moment, then shrugs. "I don't know," she says. "It was delivered in your name."

I turn to the bouquet he had gifted me, noticing a white note stuck in the middle. I slowly pull it out and open it, greeted by a beautiful cursive handwritten message drenched in black ink.

════

Narae,

We love everything that's beautiful.

It's a curse. But only because we can never have it for ourselves. Just like you. Just like your dance.

Your dance is beautiful. Everything about you is.

We love your dance. We love your passion. We love everything about you.

It's a bittersweet love because we know it can only be enjoyed through watching you from afar.

But give us a chance. We can change your world. For the better.

And we mean it.

════

No name. No address. Nothing.

Fear takes over my body as I have no idea what it means, or what I'm supposed to do. My hands shiver as I put the note back into the bouquet, feeling strange as if I'm being watched. What am I supposed to do?

I only know his name and nothing else. Yang Jungwon.