⁺◦ 𝔥𝔬𝔱 | 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀 .

↳ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝟖 .

confined doesn't even begin to sum up just how suffocated you feel right now. there are four walls that within this space. three people that inhabit it—you, minghao, and ms. kim.

you never thought a certain combination of personalities could cause such a hostile environment, but you stand corrected.

ms. kim sits in the position of utmost power— behind the desk that's designated for the owner of this studio. you actually find that ironic seeing as though she holds power over the fate of two kids that are sitting on either sides of her desk.

she arranges different picture frames that surround her desktop. her eyes linger on the photos. it's very obvious that whoever are in the photographs, means something to her. them, and them alone, are allowing her to operate under a renewed sense of calmness.

"what happened yesterday will never happen again. am i understood?" ms. kim demands.

she actually seems serene, which might be more frightening than her boiling with rage.

"yes, ms. kim." minghao replies way too quickly for your liking.

he seems all too eager to agree with ms. kim. you, on the other hand, will go to your grave disagreeing with ms. kim over the simplest things.

"(y/n)?" her eyes shift to you, almost uncomfortably.

"i'm sorry, ms. kim, but i can't make any promises."

your comment alone starts to make ms. kim's calmness unravel. you watch it, the way her mouth pulls into a straight line and her gaze becomes unkind. "you can't make any promises?"

"no, i can't." you stand your ground.

silence sits in the air for far too long. it perches itself in the tiniest corner of the room, then multiplies like a fungus. it becomes suffocating, as it gains ground. now, you're certain that you've forfeited any chance of staying in ms. kim's good graces. maybe it's the lack of sleep that's finally catching up to you, or maybe you really have gone insane, but you've evaded the claim that fear once had on you.

out of the corner of your eye, you catch minghao wiping sweat off of his forehead. he keeps his eyes low as he does this, but you can't seem to shake the feeling that someone is observing you.

maybe it was ms. kim. after all, her stare has been fixated on me for the past minute.

it is ms. kim who's the first to break the silence, but it's not with her voice. she claps her hands together, as if she's applauding herself for finding the most professional way to respond to you. "that, just like your behavior yesterday, is exceptionally disrespectful."

"i think that it's disrespectful that you had a replacement on stand-by for chan." you can't control the anger in your voice when you say this.

"(y/n)!" ms. kim's voice echoes in the tiny space and you wonder just how badly you've gotten under her skin.

before continuing, she takes one lungful of air. she blows out the air even slower than she took it in. "i know that you are upset about chan and what he's going through, but you can't take that out on minghao."

"i'm fine. i'm not taking anything out on him. i just don't like him, ms. kim." you plaintively say, but don't bother to lend your attention to the man that sits merely inches away from you.

"like it or not, he is your dance partner. i assigned you two as dance partners and as long as you're in this studio, you will respect me and my rules."

you're fuming, shaken by a rage that's so unfiltered that you're liable to say anything at this point.

"then, maybe i should find a new studio." you say, sitting on the verge of craziness.

if you're being honest with yourself, you sound like your divorcing ms. kim as a dance teacher and as a motherly figure in your life. when your parents decided to throw you out of the house because you wanted to be a professional dancer, ms. kim was gracious enough to let you live in the studio.

"maybe you should, though i doubt any are accepting new members at this point in the year." ms. kim anger instantly matches yours.

ms. kim should be the voice of reason, but she isn't. right now, her temper has the upper hand on her.

"they'll accept me." confidence makes you sound much surer than you feel.

"maybe they will or maybe you'll quit just like you did when you were fifteen."

at this, you wince. without your permission, your mind replays the very day that you quit. you see yourself storming out of the studio, refusing to work with that fallible fool that ms. kim hired as an assistant.

then, very faintly, chan trying to cheer you up flickers in your memory. you remember just how encouraging he was, and you feel guilty that you might not ever return the favor to him.

"i will never quit again, ms. kim. i made a mistake back then, but it'll never happen again." you say, after finally getting ahold of yourself.

you get your breathing under control long enough to drink in your surroundings. instead of avoiding minghao, you take a second to acknowledge him. when you look at him, you realize something.

he's watching me, or at least i think he is. i can't quite tell if my eyes are being deceitful these days or if they're actually proving themselves to be useful.

"good, then you'll be here bright and early tomorrow morning." ms. kim's confidence, along with her smile, make a triumphant return. "tomorrow's private rehearsal with the two of you will start at five in the morning. am i understood?"

"but, ms. kim, we don't have a routine." you try to poke holes in her plan, ruin her satisfaction before it evolves into happiness.

"you will be showing the routine that you practiced with chan to minghao. so, you have no need to worry, (y/n)." she replies with a smile so bright you just might puke.

"i guess i'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning, princess." minghao talks smoothly, but the way he looks at you is truly interesting.

he's looking at you like you're some kind of wounded creature and he's not even trying to hide it anymore.

do i look like that much of a train wreck to where he just can't seem to command his eyes to seem just as unfeeling towards me as he is?