Define 'ㄗモ尺下モ匚匕' Dancer - Jimin FF

Chapter 7

<Faith POV>

As soon as the doors opened to the elevator I bolted out. I didn't want to communicate anymore. My social battery was depleted and I just wanted to leave. However there was something bugging me about that boy, he seems familiar and I felt this way last time when he came to my door just that time I was too perplexed to comprehend the situation I didn't realise the strange familiarity he gave off. As soon as I made it into the fresh air I released a breath which I didn't realise I was holding.

Diving into my pocket I snatched out my mask and fixed it to my face before proceeding on my usual path to my dance studio.

I got the dance studio recently like a few months back. It was so I can perfect my dance and there's only one good thing about it. It's mine and only mine. No one else is there. My escape from reality honestly. I was friends with the previous owner but they died a few months back, we weren't too close we just chatted so I wasn't to upset about them being gone. Just means I get more alone time. However they did give me their studio in return which I'm sort of great full for. I just don't understand why they would do this especially for someone like me. Oh well.

As I was getting close to my studio I looked across the street seeing the BIGHIT entertainment building. I remember in the old days I would look at that building with the biggest smile on my face. The six year old me used to dream to be a back up dancer or even an idol through their entertainment. But that dream was soon crushed, well not entirely tiny specks still remain just stuffed deep down in the cold despair they call my heart.

I still remember how my dream was brutally trampled upon and extinguished. What hurt even more was who trampled upon it. None other then the wickedest witch in the whole entire universe, aka my mother. She manipulated that dream and crushed it to the point I have given up. Everything had to be perfected and I could never get it right. Maybe that's were I get my perfectionist side from. A cold and bitter chuckle escapes my lips at my thoughts as I stare at my dance hall.

God I hate this place but I love it. It's not the place that I actually hate, it's what happens here. My failures, blood, sweat and tears go into this place. My safe place. Or not.

Entering I chucked my jacket, keys, bag and trainers into the corner and walked to the centre of the dance room. I then tied my hair and played the music before proceeding with the dance I have been so frustrated to master.

I lost count how many times I stopped and scolded my self, ruthlessly digging at the roots of my hair hoping the pain will finally drill into me that it needs to be perfect. Sighing I looked out the window finding out that it's nighttime. I checked my watch to see it's quite late so I pack up my stuff and prepare to leave. Wandering through the streets in the middle of the night with the moon as my only source of light to guide me to the safety I call my 'home'.