between the spolight - purinz ✧

fractured steps.

yunjin's pov —

the moment i stepped into the practice room, i could feel the tension thick in the air. it wasn't new—every time i practiced with chaewon, the atmosphere was tight, uncomfortable, and heavy with unspoken words. we had just wrapped up the recording for "you & me," and now it was time to bring the dance to life, the final piece of this collaboration i wasn't particularly thrilled about.

chaewon was already there, stretching by the mirrors. she looked up when i entered but quickly averted her gaze, as if the sight of me made her uncomfortable. i couldn't blame her. the energy between us had been strained from the beginning. i wasn't making it easy for her, but she wasn't exactly innocent in all of this either. her sudden rise, the way she was being treated like the company's new favorite, it all rubbed me the wrong way.

i walked over to my spot, dropping my bag and tying up my hair. i could feel her eyes on me for a split second before she turned away again. good. i didn't need her analyzing my every move. this collaboration was supposed to be professional, not personal.

"let's just get this done," i muttered under my breath as i approached the center of the room. chaewon stood up, a little stiff, as if she was already dreading what was coming. the dance we'd been working on for you & me was...intense. it was intimate, with a lot of close proximity, touches that would sell the chemistry to fans. except there was no chemistry. not off-stage, at least.

the choreographer arrived shortly after, giving us instructions as we ran through the routine. i was trying my best to stay focused on the moves, on nailing each step, but there was something off. i could feel it in the way chaewon moved, like she was holding back, unsure.

as we went through one of the sequences, our bodies nearly brushing as we turned and spun, i caught her glancing at me out of the corner of my eye. her expression was hesitant, like she wanted to say something but didn't know how to start. i ignored it, pushing forward through the choreography. i didn't have time for whatever was on her mind.

but after a few more run-throughs, she finally spoke. "yunjin... can we talk for a second?"

i froze for a moment, not expecting her to actually say anything. "we're practicing," i replied flatly, not bothering to look at her as i stretched out my arms, preparing for the next part of the dance.

"i know," she said, her voice firmer this time, "but i need to ask you something."

i sighed, dropping my hands to my sides and finally turning to face her. her expression was serious, more serious than i'd seen in a long time. "what?"

she hesitated, biting her lip like she was gathering her thoughts. "why do you hate me?"

i blinked, caught off guard by the question. i hadn't expected her to just come out and say it like that. i wasn't even sure how to answer. "i don't hate you," i said, the words sounding hollow even to my own ears.

"then why are you like this?" she pressed, her voice rising slightly with frustration. "why are you always so cold? i've been trying... i've been trying to work with you, but it feels like no matter what i do, you just—" she paused, her eyes searching mine. "you always make me feel like i'm not good enough."

i felt something twist inside me, but i shoved it down, keeping my expression neutral. "this isn't personal, chaewon. it's work. i expect a certain level of professionalism, and i need you to meet it."

her eyes widened slightly, and she shook her head. "it feels personal. every time we practice, it's like you're trying to push me away. i just... i don't understand why."

i clenched my jaw, not sure how to respond. part of me wanted to tell her the truth—that it wasn't just about her, but about how the company was handling everything. how they were already grooming her to be the next big thing, how it felt like all my hard work was being overshadowed by her sudden debut. but saying that out loud felt petty, and i wasn't about to give her that satisfaction.

"you're overthinking it," i finally said, my voice cooler than i intended. "this is just the way i am when it comes to work."

"no," she said, shaking her head again. "there's more to it than that. you don't treat anyone else like this. just me."

she wasn't wrong, but i wasn't about to admit it. "look," i said, stepping closer, my tone sharp. "you're the rookie here. you're the one who has to prove yourself. i'm just trying to help you do that, whether you like it or not."

chaewon stared at me, her expression hardening. "that's not help. that's... it's just cruel."

i felt my patience wearing thin. i didn't need this. i didn't need her trying to psychoanalyze me, or trying to make me feel guilty for something that wasn't entirely my fault. "maybe this isn't the industry for you if you can't handle the pressure," i snapped, my words harsher than i intended.

her face fell, and for a second, i regretted saying it. but i didn't apologize. instead, i turned back to the mirror, focusing on the choreography again. "let's just get through this practice."

there was silence for a moment, and i could feel her eyes on me, but she didn't say anything else. we ran through the dance again, the tension between us even worse than before. every move felt forced, every touch awkward. i could see the frustration in her movements, the way she tried to stay composed but couldn't quite hide how much my words had affected her.

after what felt like an eternity, the choreographer called for a break. chaewon grabbed her water bottle and headed to the corner of the room, not looking at me. i could feel the weight of the argument still hanging over us, but i didn't know how to fix it. or if i even wanted to.

as i wiped the sweat from my forehead, i glanced at her across the room. she looked tired, defeated. part of me knew i had pushed too far, but the other part—the part that felt like i was fighting for my place in the company—couldn't bring itself to care.

i was trying to protect myself, to stay on top in an industry that was always looking for the next big thing. and right now, that "next big thing" was chaewon. i couldn't afford to let my guard down.

"you ready to start again?" the choreographer called out.

chaewon nodded, but there was a tightness in her posture that hadn't been there before. as we stepped back into position, i couldn't shake the feeling that things had just gotten a lot more complicated.