Days With You

The Search for Rhythm

After the orientation, Gift and Pie embarked on their quest to unearth the whereabouts of the dance club. They scoured notice boards, interrogated faculty members, and even resorted to posting inquiries on the college's online forums.

Days turned into weeks, but their efforts yielded little success. It seemed as though the dance club had faded into obscurity, leaving Gift disheartened and Pie frustrated.

One evening, while poring over their research in the college library, Pie's eyes widened with realization. "Gift, I think I might have found something!"

Gift's heart leaped with hope as he leaned in to examine the screen. Pie had stumbled upon an old article detailing the rise and fall of the college's dance club. According to the archived piece, the club had disbanded due to lack of funding and dwindling participation.

But buried within the article was a glimmer of hope—a mention of a group of passionate dancers who continued to meet unofficially, driven by their shared love for the art form.

"We have to find them," Gift declared, his determination reignited. "If the official club is gone, then we'll start our own. We'll rebuild from the ground up."

Gift and Pie navigated through the labyrinthine corridors of their college, Pie's sneakers tapping a rhythm against the linoleum floors. The air buzzed with anticipation as they neared their destination. They were on a mission, a mission to resurrect the once-vibrant pulse of the disbanded dance club.

Their steps quickened as they approached the classroom where Rhythm, the former president of the club, was rumored to be. Gift's heart thrummed with excitement and nervous energy. He adjusted his glasses, his mind already conjuring visions of choreographed routines and the thunderous applause of an adoring audience.

Finally reaching their destination, they found Rhythm's classmate, a bespectacled girl engrossed in a textbook.

"Hello, sorry to disturb, may I know where is P'Rhythm?" 

"You can find him at the studio by the hallway." With a smile and a friendly inquiry, they gleaned the information they sought.

The disbanded dancers still met, still practiced, still clung to the remnants of their shared passion.

With newfound determination, Gift and Pie set out to locate the elusive group of seniors. The rhythmic thumping of bass reverberated through the hallways, guiding them like a siren's call. And there, in a secluded studio tucked away from prying eyes, they found them.

The seniors moved with a fluidity that bordered on mesmerizing, their bodies pulsating in perfect harmony with the music. But amidst the sea of dancers, one figure stood out like a beacon in the night – Rhythm. Gift's breath caught in his throat as he watched, spellbound by the grace and magnetism of the man before him.

Rhythm's handsome features seemed sculpted by the gods themselves, his every movement a symphony of elegance and power. Gift felt something stir within him, a fluttering in his chest that he couldn't quite name. Love at first sight, they called it, and Gift found himself a willing believer.

But as quickly as the fantasy had taken hold, reality came crashing back with a jolt. "Hello fellow seniors!" Gift and Pie approached the group, their voices filled with determination as they laid out their plans for the revival of the dance club. They spoke of competitions, of performances, of raising the club's profile and securing much-needed funding from the college.

But Rhythm's response was not what they had hoped for. He frowned, his expression guarded, his arms crossed defiantly against his chest. He shook his head, rejecting their proposal without explanation, and turned to leave.

"P'Rhythm, P' wait.."

Gift's heart sank like a stone as he watched Rhythm's retreating figure. But beneath the disappointment lay a steely resolve, a determination to win Rhythm over, both to the cause of the dance club and to the depths of his own heart.

As they made their way back through the empty corridors, Gift's mind churned with plans and schemes. He would persuade Rhythm, he vowed, with charm and charisma and unwavering determination. And perhaps, just perhaps, he would win not only a dancer but a lover as well.