r e f l e c t i o n | 김 남준

Three

If our lives overlap, will you still see me the same?

March 25th, 2015

It wasn't typical that he was late for class, but an urgent doctor visit early that morning prevented Namjoon from making it on time. Luckily, it was one of his art electives, so it wasn't that big of a deal. But he still felt a pang of anxiety when he burst through the door fifteen minutes late. A few people were waiting outside the door, but he didn't have time to pay attention to them.

The professor gave a small chuckle at the sight of the tall man breathing heavily, face a bit red and tan skin glistening with the beginning of sweat. Everyone in class was staring at him too, a few chuckles coming from his friends.

"Take a seat, Namjoon." He bowed and mumbled a quiet 'sorry' before sitting beside his friend. "I was just saying that we are going to be studying the physique of a dancer's body and how they move." The professor gestured toward the door. "We have a dancer for each of you to draw, and they all come from the Korea National Contemporary Dance Company."

He waited for some enthusiasm, but there was none. As he continued speaking, Haneul turned to Namjoon. "Why are you late?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Everyone was pretty much tuning the professor out at that point.

Namjoon raised his right hand to reveal his ring finger bandaged and taped to his middle finger. "Broken."

"Let me guess. A meth head thought you weren't getting his drugs fast enough?" she joked.

Not particularly in the mood for humor about his forbidden profession, he only sighed. "Crack head, actually."

Namjoon was normally upbeat or at least in the middle, but it was obvious how tired he was. He was in a black sweatshirt with the hood up, newly dyed pink hair sticking out slightly. It was honestly such a boyfriend look, and Haneul definitely thought that.

She was going to ask him if he was okay, but before she could finish, the opening of the door piqued everyone's interest. Ten people filed in, the same amount of students in the small class. They were clearly dancers, as they were all in pink or black leotards—except her.

The third girl from the left was in black leggings and a light blue shirt that hugged her body in all the right places. Namjoon was more drawn to her face, though. She looked no different from the typical Korean girl, but she was the only one not smiling.

Her eyes stayed glued to the floor, but she must have felt him staring because the next moment she looked up to stare back at him. He felt a little intimidated under her gaze, but then something miraculous happened.

She softened.

The woman softened upon gazing at him, head tilting slightly to the right. Namjoon smiled, a bit flustered, hand raising slightly to give an awkward wave. He noticed her pressing her lips together to keep from laughing, but she did smile back.

The professor had been speaking the entire time, but it all faded away as he exchanged smiles with her. But then the dancers dispersed, seemingly all going to their assigned artist. Namjoon felt panic rise is his chest as the girl walked toward him.

Now that he had a better look at her, she was pretty. He liked the scary feeling she gave off. It was kind of like don't fuck with me but while she was smiling, he couldn't tell. Then he realized with dismay that she wasn't looking at him as she approached.

His eyes followed her all the way to where she shook hands with Haneul beside him. "It's nice to meet you," she said routinely with a tight-lipped smile—nothing like the one he had received.

"Hey." A deep voice in front of him made Namjoon turn his attention to a muscular man with his hand on his hip. "Let's get this over with. I have practice in an hour."

Namjoon faltered. This guy looked like a grade A douchebag. "Yeah..."

His theory was only further enforced when the man turned to the girl and said, "Jangmi, hurry up. I know you like being Director Kim's little bitch so if you want to get on his good side, we need to be at practice in an hour."

Jangmi only stared back at him, a fire burning in her eyes. Namjoon could see it. She wanted to start a fight, but as quickly as it appeared, it vanished and she turned back to Haneul without a word.

The guy laughed. "Typical." But the smile fell from his face when he saw how Namjoon was looking at him. "What the hell are you looking at?"

"You're kind of being an asshole," he seethed. "If you don't want to be here then don't."

"Call me that again." The guy was crazy enough to begin squaring up.

Namjoon smirked, slowly standing up. Once he reached his full height, the eyes of the male dancer widened so far he thought his eyelids might snap. Namjoon towered over the kid quite literally. He began gawking, no words coming out of his mouth.

The taller shrugged. "Okay. You're an asshole. Now what?"

The kid swallowed hard before rolling his eyes. "Whatever. I should just go practice now."

"Yeah," Namjoon agreed. "You do that."

With only a sneer, the thumb pushed out of the room. Jangmi was staring at him so intensely he almost felt knocked over. She appeared genuinely shocked. He only smiled in response, to which she dipped her head gratefully before turning back to Haneul, who was still talking.

"Namjoon," the professor said as he approached him, voice comical. "Why'd your partner leave?"

Namjoon sighed. "Sir, he was being a royal dick. Someone had to put him in his place."

"That's all fine, but what are you gonna do for your grade now?"

The giant shrugged. "I can take the L just once."

A big laugh radiated from him and he patted the kid on the shoulder. "Alright. I'll let it slide once, Namjoon." With that, he went back to his desk as Namjoon sat down in front of his easel.

There was always an endless supply of paint brushes, but he knew his strength was sketching. He picked up a pencil from the cup of art supplies, his eyes immediately falling on Jangmi. She had settled on a pose for Haneul's painting, staying still as ever. Her face was relaxed, eyes downcast as her being on pointe was the entire focal pointe of the picture.

But Namjoon thought her face would be a nice sketch. So he began on that. By the time class was over, it was finished, but he wasn't exactly pleased with it. His drawing did not do her justice.

The dancers stopped their positions and stretched, stiff groans filling the room. Jangmi let out a hefty sigh as she stretched her calves from being on pointe for that long. Namjoon covered his sketch of her with another piece of paper.

The professor said everyone could leave, so he stood to say something to her. But what? What could he say? He was at a loss for words as she walked out with the rest of his classmates and the dancers. He could feel a piece of his heart break at the loss of opportunity while he watched her walk right out of his life.

A sigh escaped him. He'd never see her again, but it was probably better that way. He was a drug dealer and she was a dancer. If anything, she would be repulsed by him. Maybe it was just one of those days where he hated himself, but he thought it was probably better that they didn't get roped into each other's lives.

He picked up his satchel and slung it over his shoulder before straightening on the walk to his next class.