I stood in the stairway fidgeting nervously, my gaze fixed on my pastel blue converse. Of course I didn’t dare look into those intense brown eyes. There was something about Yoongi’s eyes. I felt intimidated, excited, confused, empathetic and so much more, all at once. It was weird and my mind warned me that it was dangerous. And I agreed with it, one hundred percent. It was dangerous. He was dangerous.

“Chaewon,” he called out.

I looked up in surprise. That was the first time I heard him talk and the first time he had said my name. And it sounded… perfect.

Is this the Min Yoongi that people detest and fear?

I didn’t realize that in my amazement, I was staring at him impudently. He furrowed his eyebrows and averted my gaze, as he shifted in his place. I was making him uncomfortable. Wow. Whoever thought that was possible. I blinked and looked away, not wanting to cause him any more discomfort.

“Hm?” I asked, my voice coming out as a squeak.

Gosh, I sound like a damn mouse.

I stole a glance at him and I swear I saw him smirk. But he covered it quickly as he turned to look me in the eye. I took a deep breath.

“So, I heard something interesting from Ms Kim,” he said, his face now bearing a grave expression.

I raised my eyebrows in confusion. I didn’t trust my voice right now.

“Something about an English essay,” he added. And I froze in my place.

Uh oh.

I bit my lip as he crossed his arms and gave me a stern look. “I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”

.

“She said that my essay was really impressive. They think I have the potential and they want me to work hard for the final exams,” he continued. “So, care to explain why there is an essay that I clearly never wrote?”

I let out a long sigh. “I… uh, I… might’ve written an essay and submitted it,” I told him, silently praying that he wouldn’t lash out on me.

“Why would you do that?” he asked. I could tell from his tone that he was upset but also intrigued.

“Look, I’m sorry for doing it without your permission. But Mr Nam insisted on those. I did not have a choice. I didn’t want him to be disappointed in me. And you wouldn’t write one. So, I just wrote another one and submitted it.”

It was pretty stupid. I know. But I was willing to do anything if it meant I did not have to go near them. “You don’t have to worry about anything though. I don’t see why a good essay, that can advance your grades, would be a problem,” I asked him, genuinely confused.

He looked at me with an incomprehensible face.

“I…am really sorry,” I said once more.

“Don’t do it again,” he said, a little too quickly.

“Okay,” I agreed. “But I still don’t understand. It would help you get into a good college.”

“I’m not going to college,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“What?” I exclaimed. “Why? Why won’t you go?”

A few minutes ago, I was terrified beyond words to even look at him. Now I’m just outright shooting questions at him. He gave me a look that said that I should shut up.

“You should go to college,” I whispered. “And I’m really sorry about the essay. See you later,” I waved at him before turning around and running down the stairs.

I stopped after a few minutes to calm my racing heart down. This was the first time I spoke to him, alone, and it gave me a feeling I had never felt before. It wasn’t fear, I could tell. Sympathy, perhaps? He looked intimidating but his eyes, they were sad. It was like he was pretending to be icy to hide the real emotions that his brown orbs betrayed. But why would he be sad? What would make the mighty Min Yoongi unhappy?

                                                                                *********************

I let out a sigh as I grabbed my water bottle and dropped on the floor. I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand and took a few sips from the bottle. I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes.

I was in the dance studio for the past hour practicing a dance routine. It was what I and Jimin had planned for the annual day. But now I couldn’t even perform thanks to the stupid internship. Will there ever be a day when I will be able to do something I actually want to do?

I was tired. Tired of being ordered around. Ever since I was a child, I always had to do what my parents told me to do. They were always right and I had to follow their commands. And I did because I didn’t want them to be disappointed in me. I wanted them to be proud of me. But it was never enough. No matter what I did, they were never happy. They wanted more and I didn’t have anything more to offer. But I still tried my best. Why else would I be going on a business internship when I could be paving way to achieve my dream? This was the very first time The International Dance Fest was being held in Seoul. But there was one reason why I wanted to be there so badly. Zhang Yixing.

Zhang Yixing was a celebrated dancer; my idol and my inspiration. He had achieved so much at such a young age and I