Taeyong had been right. The movements came to me more naturally as I got more rest. I'd even kept some meals down for extra measures, knowing that I could burn off the weight anyways. Taeyong made me promise to never practice past 10 at night, ensuring that I got at least eight hours of sleep. Although I knew his acts of kindness were just because he needed me to perform well at his side, I couldn't help but wish that he genuinely cared for me. No one else besides my parents worried for my wellbeing; all the attention I'd ever recieved were for my 'extraordinary' ballet and acting skills. People didn't selflessly care for others unless they knew they'd receive something in return. Same goes for Taeyong.

Gyeong had cleared out 6:00 p.m.-10:00 p.m. everyday for the past two weeks just so I could work on the duet with Taeyong. It'd never taken me so long to learn ballet routines in the past, yet hip hop was a different experience all together. The evening practices always took me back to the peaceful Sunday nights when Ms. Chae held practices. At least, before I'd caught the attention of thousands of prospective investors and famous ballerinas that were marvelled by my dance. Those old classes were the peak of my juvenescence. Ms. Chae still saw me as one of her beloved students who she taught because she loved to. I was no more and no less than any other student in her eyes, and that's how I'd always wanted it to stay. As of right now, I would give up the world to return to those happy little moments of my childhood. Reality couldn't even come close to touching me.

"You feeling alright? You look a little pale," Taeyong said when we were taking a break. It was only 8:00 p.m., but I was exhausted. My weight had began to fluctuate when I'd resisted the urge to regurgitate my meals, so I'd gone the past two days on little more than sweet potatoes and broccoli.

"Um, I'm alright. Just a little tired," I mumbled to the floor. Taeyong had developed a habit of scrutinizing me under his stare when he'd suspected I was lying. At the same time, I'd developed the habit of looking away when he did so.

"How about we go somewhere to eat? I can tell Gyeong if you want," he offered.

"But...tomorrow's weight day. I can't eat too much," I said.

"It's weight day for everyone Kiara. We all have to go through it, so people don't care as much as you'd think. We're all too preoccupied with watching our own progress to be overly concerned with others," he said. I didn't say anything else; Taeyong already made up his mind.

*                              *                                 *

Thankfully, no one noticed who we were at the lovely little restaurant Taeyong brought us to. It was tucked into a small corner short of three blocks away from the company building. The only stares that followed Taeyong were gazes of admiration for his beauty, not familiarity.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked when we'd been seated by the waiter.

"Go ahead,"

"How much do you think a girl my height should weigh?" I asked. Taeyong was silent for a moment, no doubt carefully selecting words that wouldn't offend me.

'If you're worried about your weight, my advice is to just keep doing what you're doing. The practices we have definitely keep people like us in shape, and the diet plans work wonders for everyone. Super Junior and Girl's Generation are living proof," he said, not directly answering my question.

"Well, I'm not exactly following the plans that the company have laid out for me-"

"Kiara," he placed his hand over mine, giving it a light squeeze, "you're doing great. I've seen your progress, and believe me, everyone else sees it as well,"

I nodded, feeling heat flush into my cheeks. He finally released his hold when the waiter came back to take our orders.

*                                   *                                   *

"99 pounds, 11 pound loss," the weight lady announced. Everyone had mixed reactions. Losing 11 pounds in two months wasn't exactly a healthy amount of time to lose in so little time. Even so, many gave me nods and gestures of approval. A number of other rookies even asked for tips on how I did it. I told them what they expected to hear: follow the diet plans, practice a lot, do some cardio. But not a word of the bathroom trips escaped my lips. It was my own secret, and there was no way I'm going to let them steal the tip for themselves. Life is a competition in the Kpop world. Only the thinnest, prettiest, and most talented were going to survive the journey. I planned to be one of them.