The Art Of Movement

『 I don't dance. 』

At least, not anymore.

Dancing was a huge part of me, like my parents and my siblings were.

I loved dancing, I really did.

Dancing wasn't just a way to express for me, it was also away to be able to move my body gracefully, or to be able to create movements according to the rhythm.

I'm getting ahead of myself. I don't, and shouldn't dance anymore.

Before, I joined all kinds of contests, and won the championship. Whether I was in a team or not, I always stood out, and brought the title of "Champions" home.

I was scarred for life because of one contest.

Our rival team, Ashville Academy, sabotaged us. Some of my team would lose things.

At first, it was minor, and looked accidental. But then phones, laptops, money, even clothes, or dancing clothes, disappeared.

Some of us received food poisoning, and was taken out of the contest because of the severity of their illnesses.

But I, took the worst blow. I had broken my femur, or my leg bone, in two places.

They ambushed me.

Sure, they were disqualified, but that didn't help us win.

I never danced again. And I never will.

It's cliche when a guy comes into your life and changes everything, but it's true.

It happened to me.

Well, in my case, it's a little different. There's three of them, all of them equally handsome.

One makes me remember, one makes me feel alive, and the other makes me forget.

What steps should I do in this dance of life?