In an adjacent building to the town hall, in one of the rooms, where one end was walled by mirrors, and it was all laminated in a wood-themed colour, a blond tall teen, accompanied by a milky-skinned boy, both dressed in black loose, exercise attire, stood at the centre of the room, seemingly taking a breather whilst more subtle-volumed music reverberated in the background.

“Are you insane?! I am not doing that!” protested Kyungsoo, sending very apparent glare daggers to his pouty partner.

“What are you mad about?” Sehun questioned, confused by the contradictory emotions shown by the mild teen “you don't seem to have a problem with our y, street choreography, yet when I ask you to do this, you lose your wires!”

“It's one thing moving and bumping your body to a beat, when you ask me to do more, I'm calling quits.”

“Well, I can't sing or act for s, so you'll have to do,” the city boy frowned, fingers to his chin, concerned, “it's a rather underwhelming performance without it. Come on, you can do it.”

“And what makes you think I can?” Kyungsoo crossed his hands, far from elated from the swift dismissal by Sehun.

“Your nice speaking voice... ?” Sehun reached, trying any strands of possibility to get the reluctant fair student to agree.

“Dancing is hard enough as it is, how do you expect me to do more?.”

“Your part on the piece is rather lax, don't you think? You have plenty of breath to insert something in there.”

“You do seem to dance around me...” Kyungsoo agreed hesitantly, remembering the way the city boy strode around him like the breeze but at the same time stomped and humphed his powerful and precise moves independently while Kyungsoo watched.

“Please? You know we're representing my parent's business, it'd be nice if we could make a nice impression.”

Kyungsoo sighed, tired of the emotional blackmail of his friend's family business as a leverage against him. His good will could not argue against helping him, but at the same time, was annoyed at being coerced to help, “... why did you have to choose dancing anyway... ?”

“Because that's what I enjoy,” Sehun smiled in an unbecoming manner far from the usual him; a gentle, tender smile bespeaking pure joy and elation as well as liberation, “I feel my body lighten to the weight of a single feather, and I can also feel it harden and become the heaviest thing alive by my own will, for as long as the music's in me.”

“Sounds like Jongin's own reasoning for dance...” Kyungsoo reminded himself, when he read the school's newspapers article on the top ranker, “unceasing and invigorated – all because of music.”

Sehun grimaced, eyes gazing sidedly, commenting to himself “Never thought I'd have something similar to Preppy, feels weird,” he then grasped his sides and squirmed, holding his sides “never mind, it was cramps.”

“Jongin's his name,” Kyungsoo corrected the blond, he then scolded him “For crying out loud, you're not in the city anymore. Nicknames don't sound cool here; you're like a jealous child.”

“Until he's worthy of my respect, he's just an aspect to me,” Sehun replied, like a puerile child rebelling “not even worth remembering his name.”

Kyungsoo placed a hand on his waist and the other rubbing his forehead, not grasping the seemingly natural hostility he had for the top ranker “I don't see why you couldn't just join the dance club in school and see for yourself how amazing Jongin is.”

Sehun chuckled, then smiled at his friend. He grabbed both his hands and held them high, shaking them as he spoke, voice brim with hope “Because you and I can do our own amazing thing, and show them.”

“Show them what?”

Sehun squeezed their hands, stating “The underdogs have a voice.”

Kyungsoo corked a cynical brow at the rather popular city boy “You're hardly underdog, Sehun.”

Sehun released his hold on the fair student's hands,“No,” he shirked his shoulder nonchalantly “but you are, and I want to raise you up. I want you to raise your voice, like you did to me, and Yifan.”

Large round eyes stared incredulously to an excited smirk. A voice for himself?