broken glass | woosan

~18~

3RD PERSON POV

A couple of weeks had slipped by since the live. The days blurred into a relentless parade of scheduled interviews and promotions, each one a testament to the success they were enjoying. The group was riding the crest of a wave, their names on the lips of fans and critics alike.

The spotlight was exhilarating, but it demanded every ounce of their energy. Wooyoung and his bandmates moved from one engagement to the next, their faces gracing screens and magazine covers, their voices echoing over radio waves. It was a whirlwind of activity that left them little time to themselves, each day tightly choreographed like one of their intricate dance routines.

Yet, despite the fame and the packed schedule, the true work never paused. Behind the scenes, away from the cameras and the flashing lights, they honed their craft. Rehearsals ran late into the night, and the dance studio's call was ever present, a constant in the chaotic storm of their rising stardom.

Just like the night of the live, Wooyoung's dedication hadn't waned in the slightest. Every night for the last couple of weeks, he found his solace in the practice room, a sanctuary where he could immerse himself in the art that fueled his soul. The routine had become almost sacred, a necessary ritual to end each day.

In that space, surrounded by the echoes of his own rhythmic footfalls, Wooyoung worked himself to the point of exhaustion. The music and the movement were his companions in the quiet hours of the night, pushing him to his limits and beyond. It was a testament to his relentless drive, a drive that didn't recognize the boundaries of his physical limits.

Each session in the practice room was a battle between his body's desire to rest and his mind's determination to perfect every move. The dichotomy of his public persona—energetic, always smiling—and the private face of sheer determination and fatigue was stark. Yet, Wooyoung embraced this grueling schedule, knowing that every drop of sweat and every aching muscle brought him closer to the artist he aspired to be.

Despite the promises made to Hongjoong, Wooyoung's eating habits had taken a turn for the worse amidst the chaos of their schedule. He often skipped meals, subsisting on the bare minimum, his focus locked on practice and perfection. It was only when San was present, offering a portion of his own meal or coaxing Wooyoung to join him, that he would relent and eat.

Wooyoung was aware of the concern that would cloud San's eyes if he noticed his recent behavior, and that was the last thing Wooyoung wanted—to worry his boyfriend with his own neglected health. So, he ate, albeit sparingly, to keep up appearances and to stave off any difficult questions. It was a precarious balancing act, maintaining the facade of normalcy while his body was crying out for more sustenance and rest.

Tonight was a mirror of the preceding nights, with Wooyoung back in the studio, the music blaring for the fifth run-through. His body was on the brink, each muscle screaming for reprieve, yet he persisted, driven by an inner force that demanded more from him than what seemed humanly possible.

With every count of the beat, he pushed himself harder, the mirror reflecting a figure driven by ambition and the fear of mediocrity. His movements were sharp, his focus unwavering, but his physical form was reaching a tipping point. The line between determination and overexertion was blurring, and yet, Wooyoung danced on, propelled by a mix of passion and a relentless pursuit of excellence.

Wooyoung's relentless nights in the studio weren't just about perfecting his dance moves; they were also contributing to his weight loss journey. Over the past few weeks, he had noticed the progress he'd made, and it only served to fuel his determination. The tangible results were a powerful motivator, and he was set on maintaining this.