Dancing King

Chapter 9

Currently hanging at my aunt and uncle's house for a party. The kids are playing games. Everyone's talking. Such fun.

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Junmyeon's POV

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We sipped our hot chocolate in a quaint little cafe about a block away from our school, and it looked like the most cliched scene in the history of clichè scenes. As Christmas time was fast approaching, little fairy lights lined the ceiling, glowing blue and yellow and red. Cheery music floated up from some kind of sound system. Yixing somehow had a little whipped cream on his nose, and his musical laugh danced along as I told jokes to him. It was picture perfect. The kind of thing I'd only ever dreamed about.

If only it could last.

"Kim Junmyeon!" I jumped when my name was suddenly shouted across the small shop. I whipped around, coming face to face with Namjoon. His nostrils flared. I wondered for a brief moment what the problem was, and then or dawned on me that I totally spaced last night's practice. "Where were you last night, huh?" Namjoon asked, his deep voice scaring me more than his shout a second ago. Namjoon was easy-going, but still a force to be reckoned with.

"I forgot," I said truthfully. "Saturdays aren't usually for anything but..." I stopped when his eyebrow rose and his frown deepened. "Sorry Joonie," I added. "I'll be at practice every other time this week. I promise."

"You'd better," he replied, though it sounded more like a threat. "This is our last week of practice for our skits. Next week we perform every. Single. Day. And we need to be ready." I hung my head as his words washed over me. I wasn't taking this seriously, and it was starting to show. But I wanted us to do well. And we wouldn't do that by just sitting around.

"Yes Namjoon," I said quietly. Namjoon stopped his tirade, his gaze softening as he studied me. He squeezed my shoulder and I knew that everything would be alright. His name being called, however, stopped our current conversation. He turned, and I just barely caught the fond smile that formed. I followed his line of sight. Hoseok and Jimin. Min Yoongi, a big producer buff. And...

"Kim Seokjin?" I asked him playfully, nudging him. He huffed, but I didn't miss for a second the way how cheeks dusted pink. He mumbled something, shouldering his bag and moving off to join his friends. I smirked to myself. Namjoon was very rarely shy. And, despite being in the same theater Troup as him, I barely knew anything about him.

"Hey." I blinked, swinging my gaze back to Yixing. The whipped cream was gone. He tilted his head to the side in curiosity, his dark eyes wide. He looked adorable. Something light and fluffy exploded in my stomach. God seriously what was wrong with me? Even if I... liked him... it wasn't like I could do anything about it. Mom would certainly kick me out of the house. The last time the subject was brought up, she reacted like I was all but dead. I never brought it up again.

"Hey, we don't know a whole lot of basics about each other," I suddenly spoke. He simply nodded, his thoughtful look remaining. "Twenty questions?" I asked, waving a napkin at him for emphasis. "We use that a lot as a warm up game."

"Sure," he replied. "Me first. How old are you?"

"Eighteen," I said, my fingers dancing restlessly across the table. They always had to be busy or I went nuts. "You?"

"Just turned eighteen not too long ago," he replied. He seemed to relax a little. "Easy level. Favorite color?" I snorted.

"What are we, five?" I asked with a roll of my eyes. "Green by the way. So what about you?"

"A bit of a controversial choice, but yellow," he replied. "It's bright and happy. That's what everyone wants, right? To be happy?" I dipped my head, acknowledging his point. "Favorite subject in school?" I pursed my lips, giving it some serious thought. I never really did pick one whenever someone asked.