Annyeongz One-shots

71. It girl

The announcement came during a routine company meeting that no one expected to turn into a battlefield.

Yujin was slouched in his chair at the far end of the conference room, legs stretched out, arms crossed over his black hoodie like armor. He was half-listening to the manager drone on about upcoming schedules when the words hit like a drop beat.

"...and for the special collaboration stage at the year-end awards, we've paired Ahn Yujin with Jang Wonyoung. You'll be performing a remixed version of j-hope's 'Killin' It Girl.' The choreographer adapted it into a full duet with partner work. Practice starts tomorrow, 10 a.m. sharp in Studio A."

The room went quiet for half a second before the other staff members started murmuring approvals. "Great chemistry," someone said. "Fans will eat it up," another added.

Yujin felt his stomach drop. Wonyoung, sitting two seats away in her pristine white sweater and perfect posture, froze mid-note on her phone. Their eyes met across the table—hers wide with shock, his narrowed in disbelief.

*Killin' It Girl*. Everyone knew that track. Catchy hip-hop vibe, confident lyrics about being unstoppable, looking fire. And the choreography? The original solo version was sharp and playful, but the adapted duet versions floating around online (and the MV with the featured dancer) had unmistakable **partner sections**: close holds, hand drags, waist pulls, body rolls synced so tightly it looked intimate. Very intimate.

Wonyoung's cheeks flushed the faintest pink. Yujin clenched his jaw so hard he thought he heard a crack.

Their manager—Minho, the one who lived for chaos—grinned like he'd just won the lottery. "Oh come on, you two. Don't look so horrified. It's just a stage. You'll kill it." He winked at Yujin. "Literally. She's killin' it, right, Yujin-ah? You've said that about her before."

Yujin shot him a death glare. "Hyung."

Minho laughed louder. "What? I'm just saying. You've got that whole 'I hate her but she's talented' energy. Perfect for the song."

Wonyoung stood up abruptly, bowing politely. "I'll review the track tonight. See you tomorrow." Her voice was cool, professional. But as she passed Yujin's chair, she muttered under her breath, just loud enough for him, "Don't step on my feet, idiot."

He smirked despite himself. "Don't make me carry you through it, princess."

She didn't look back.

---

**First Practice – Studio A, 10:03 a.m.**

The studio smelled like fresh rubber mats and the faint citrus of someone's energy drink. The choreographer, a no-nonsense woman named Ji-eun who'd worked with half the industry, had the track cued up on loop. Mirrors on every wall. No escape.

Yujin arrived first, already in sweats, stretching his hamstrings like this was any other routine. Wonyoung walked in exactly at 10, hair in a high ponytail, wearing an oversized tee knotted at the waist and bike shorts. Professional. Untouchable.

Ji-eun clapped once. "Alright. We'll start clean—full run-through without music first, then counts, then full speed. The partner sections start in the second chorus and build through the dance break. Lots of trust work. Body contact is intentional. Sell the confidence, the tension. It's flirty but powerful."

Yujin felt Wonyoung tense beside him.

They ran the non-contact parts first. Sharp isolations, footwork, hip pops. Both of them were flawless—years of idol training kicking in. Yujin hit every angle hard; Wonyoung flowed like water, precise and elegant. They didn't speak beyond "left" or "count again." Professional. Coldly efficient.