Chapter One: Lee Taeyong

 

"One, two, three. One, two, thr- Not like that!" A loud voice echoed throughout the room in the dance studio, accompanied soon after by a dull thud against the wooden floor. Taeyong didn't hesitate in darting over to the black haired boy that had fallen.

 

His name was Renjun, a student in Lee Taeyong's ballet class. He wasn't a bad kid in Taeyong's opinion, actually he would be surprised if anyone saw him in a negative light given his positive nature and desire to assist the younger kids when they needed help.

 

That being said, he occasionally became too ambitious for his own good or would lose his head in the clouds. This time around it was the latter and he'd let his grip on the guide bar slacken which resulted in an unfortunate tumble. Taeyong wouldn't be at all surprised if the boy had sprained his ankle with how oddly he fell. That wasn't something one could afford to do in ballet of all things. He'd known from many past experiences.

 

Of course, Renjun was only a kid so the situation may not be as dire. Though, It still didn't make for a fun situation.

 

He crouched down beside the younger male and placed a hand between his shoulder blades, helping the boy to sit up straight. He let out soft groan and Taeyong clicked his tongue.

 

"I told you that you have to pay more attention, Renjun."

 

"I was paying attention." The younger chirped at his instructor, putting forth his best effort to make that false statement seem true. He was completely unable to hide the guilt in his expression. Admittedly it made Taeyong chuckle, he really shouldn't encourage that sort of behavior but at least he knew for sure that Renjun knew of his mistake. Even so, he quickly dropped the smile so as not to give any of the kids a wrong impression. Almost anything could be called out as a bad influence by parents these days. Anything except for their own bad habits.

 

It was frightening, really.

 

Taeyong glanced down at the boy's ankle and carefully pressed his fingers to different areas, checking for any pain. "Are you in any pain at all?" He questioned, eyebrows furrowed with worry despite the relief from moments ago.

"Nope, I feel totally fine!" Renjun grinned. A sigh escaped the brunette male and he quickly got back to his feet, helping his student up and then turning towards the rest of the class.

 

"Quiet down!" He'd been too busy checking on Renjun to pay attention to the crowd in the middle of the room as the boys and girls mingled. Some kids waited by patiently, gripping the bar as they waited for their teacher to start class once more and Taeyong silently thanked them.

 

While the man certainly didn't dislike children, they were skilled in the area of screaming and using their "outside voices", as his own teachers used to say. He was prone to headaches if it continued for long. Thankfully ballet focused more on the physical aspect of self-expression rather than the vocal aspect.

 

Taeyong glanced at the clock and inwardly cursed. Renjun's tumble had used up too much time and now Taeyong was unable to mention the lesson he planned on beginning today. Still, the man wouldn't and couldn't blame the younger.

 

For a moment he let his mind wonder about how he could catch his class up but then it morphed from lesson plans and the art of dance to dinner plans and the culinary arts. Right, okay, practice was just about over anyway.

 

Standing in the center of the room, Taeyong clapped his hands together and smiled at the students in front of him. "That'll be all for Friday's lesson and if you need any help remember to have your guardian call me, I always arrive at least 20 minutes prior to our lessons as well." He took a deep breath and then cocked an eyebrow, "Dismissed!"

 

Moments later a wave of children and teens passed by the young adult, running to their cubbies to switch out their ballet shoes and water bottles for sneakers and snacks. He watched them fondly for a moment before surveying the floor in order to make sure no child left anything behind.

 

You'd be surprised with how many hair clips he could pick up after a single lesson.

 

"Mr. Lee!"

 

The male his heels at the voice and forced himself to smile. Mothers. Oh, the mothers of young children....his life would be much easier if they would focus on their children's day at school rather than on his .

 

"Mrs. Kim!" He said without missing a beat, "Your daughter has improved quite a bit, it seems she's been practicing." Making small talk with the parents and guardians was most definitely the worst part of his job in relation to his classes for younger age groups.

 

Okay actually, the worst part about his job was that occasionally a mother would grab his or biceps and tell him he needed to eat more. He resisted gagging at the thought.

 

Middle aged women were cougars. Half of them anyway.

 

It was mostly the single mothers.

 

There was one time he dealt with a student's father trying to coerce him into having a one night stand.

 

He told the man he'd sooner break his own arm than have a fling with a man that much older than him and on top of that his own student's father.

 

To say the least the kid never came back to the studio and that was fine with him.

 

The instructor tried not to say things about those he taught but the child was an arrogant like his father. Good riddance.

 

In fact if Taeyong had a penny for every time he caught a parent staring at his backside or...his crotch he could pay the rent for his apartment for the next year PLUS groceries. He didn't mean to brag about himself but a 24 year old male ballet teacher in black spandex wasn't a sight people saw everyday.

It was also why he tried to wear plain shorts in this class when possible.

 

After addressing some guardians and their kids and making sure the studio room was cleared out, Taeyong breathed a sigh of relief and made a beeline for his office.

 

He fell onto the love seat so fast that he nearly gave himself whiplash. The 24 year old gently hit each shoulder with a fist in an attempt to loosen the muscles a little. He always felt so tense and exhausted, especially after a lesson; no wonder his friends called him an old man.

 

He still refused to believe that being called an old bag fell under the category of "meaningful names to call your friends." Which is why he called Chittaphon a . For some reason it didn't have the same impact...

 

But listen, he was an old soul at heart.

 

Taeyong's office was attached to the dance studio. It wasn't big but it worked, by the door was the leather love seat he often took naps on, a coffee table, and a neat pouch full of toiletries to freshen up with after long lessons.

 

Across from the coffee table was a desk that was decorated with only a laptop, a lamp, and a variety of writing utensils as well as other office supplies. The walls were bare except for pictures of his past classes, a few of his friends, and a cork board with art from the children. It wasn't filled but putting the art up always made the kids happy. Taeyong liked to keep his office organized, the place was not at all grand but that was okay.

 

Besides, he didn't even own the studio, Kim Jongin did. He owned the building itself actually.

 

Taeyong was just an employee, well, all the dance instructors were valued employees. Many would describe him as lucky since he was able to work in a job field he loved and he wouldn't consider those people wrong.

 

Sure, Taeyong may not have fit into the professional world as well as he thought; so he wasn't able to achieve his goal. However, as of present he worked to teach people the art of ballet and participated in local shows, that was good enough for him. He had good friends, decent pay, and...didn't hate his job. Family...family needn't be mentioned in that equation.

 

In any case if Taeyong didn't want to have a rude awakening by falling off the love seat at 9 pm, he should clear out.

 

The younger class was his last for the day so he had no reason to worry about other classes for the night. The male stood after contemplating if he actually wanted to move for a full thirty seconds. Another thirty seconds was spent looking around his office for anything else to grab but anything he needed had already been packed inside his backpack and coat pocket.

 

Did he want to spend money on delivery tonight or should he make something? Did he even have ingredients in his kitchen right now? Taeyong rubbed his tongue against the back of his teeth while deep in thought.

 

They were, however, cut off as he felt his phone vibrate in his hand. "Who would text me right now?" He  muttered to himself as he peeked at the screen only to find out it was none other than the himself.

 

He unlocked his phone and pressed on 'Overhyped Hoe', a name that took him ages to come up with actually.

 

Overhyped Hoe:

Hey old man limp your down to the new restaurant in town so we can have dinner together!!!

You know, Switch the new place its supposed to be really good.

Well actually its not that new

Since yuta works there and stuff

 

Ty Track:

I just finished my class with the kids?

Dude I'm tired.

Also stop calling me an old man, I'm just a poor old soul

Take pity on me.

 

Overhyped Hoe:

Itll be my treat just cause im in a good mood

I got a new student in my dance class and he's really freaking hot

Like hott

With two ts

You have no option to say no, be there by 7

 

Ty Track:

....

Fine.

 

Overhyped Hoe:

Wear something pretty

   

Ty Track:

You .

 

Taeyong shoved his phone back into his coat pocket and immediately threw his backpack over his shoulder. Thank god his apartment was near the studio. Once everything was locked up he slipped on his sneakers and darted out the door of the building and down the street.

 

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