“So, who are you going to make fall in love with you?” asked the dancer’s friend.

The dancer smiled, winked, and said, “It’s a secret. Anyways, I have to practice my dancing. You wanna watch?”

Of course, the dancer’s friend agreed.

---

Yixing sat on his bed with his head cradled in his hands; his sigh could’ve caused a depression in the floor beneath him from the weight of it. He tangled his fingers through his hair over and over again; not caring how messed up it got. He was mentally cursing himself, wishing a hole could open up in the ground and swallow him up.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he be so forgetful?

“Are you an idiot Yixing? Forgetting your most important treasure who the hell knows where,” Yixing muttered to himself. He knocked his head a couple times with his knuckles. “Stupid, stupid. Ugh, I’m so stupid.”

This had to have been the first time that Yixing ever forgot his backpack, as well as his shoes. Sure he was a forgetful person at times, but his dancing shoes were one thing he never forgot. Or, at least until today.

Grabbing his phone off his bedside table, Yixing dialed Minseok’s number with the small hope that maybe his friend had taken it by mistake. However, his hopes were crushed when Minseok gave him a definitive no and when he asked if Luhan might have grabbed it he heard Luhan’s voice in the background shouting something about false accusations. Ending the call with another depressing sigh, Yixing one of the pillows on his couch and smacked him in the face with it.

Just as he was about to cry into the pillow (although not really cry, more like sigh over and over), there was a light knock on the door. It was curt as if the person knocking only needed to knock once to be noticed. Grumbling to himself, Yixing rose from the couch and went to open the door. And when he swung the door open, all he saw was an intense gaze and a smirk that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Like a predator staring down its prey, the man bared two rows of perfectly white teeth at Yixing.

“C-can I help you?” Yixing hadn’t meant to stutter but the way the man was gazing at him was unnerving.

“You don’t remember me?” the man asked almost incredulously as he raised a brow.

“I’m sorry. Am I supposed to?” Yixing replied. Suddenly, the man leaned forward and there were literally only millimeters of distance between their faces. Yixing’s eyes widened and when he tried to take a step back the man gripped his shoulder.

“You honestly don’t remember me?” the man asked again, his voice just above a whisper. At this point, Yixing was getting highly uncomfortable and he wondered if the man was a stalker or a . He was ready to kick the man and slam the door shut when the man backed up and let out a chuckle. “Wow, you seriously don’t recognize me.”

“That’s right, now I’d really like it if you left,” Yixing said as he stepped back and began to shut the door.

“Wait! I know where your purple backpack is,” the man shouted causing Yixing to pause.

“What?” Yixing said, biting back the desire to say “because you stole it”. However, he couldn’t go around accusing random people of taking his backpack.

“Yeah, I’ll bring you to it if you let me treat you to dinner,” the man smirked.

“But it’s nine o’clock right now. It’s way too late for dinner,” Yixing retorted. “Just give me my backpack and I’ll pay you back for it.”

Yixing put on the sternest look he could muster, hoping it would intimidate the overly confident man before him. The man was unimpressed though, rolling his eyes as he yanked Yixing out of his apartment and shut the door behind him. Luckily, Yixing kept his key in his pocket or else he would’ve been locked out.

“I don’t have the backpack.” When Yixing opened his mouth to protest and accuse the man of being a liar, the man smiled and held up a finger. “But, I do know who does have the backpack. I’ll only tell you who it is if you go on one date with me.”

“No thanks. I’ll find my backpack on my own,” Yixing snapped.

“I’m not a sketchy person, okay? I’m friends with Luhan. I’m the secretary at Seoul’s Soul. The name’s Kim Jongin,” the man said quickly. The smirk had slipped off his face when Yixing didn’t respond to his advances and he became flustered. “I swear it’s true. You can even call Luhan and ask.”

Now that the man had finally given himself a name, a look of recognition crossed Yixing’s features. He vaguely remembered the confident secretary when he had walked in with Luhan and Minseok earlier that day. He hadn’t really taken in his features, just the man’s powerful gaze and endless smirk.

“Do you recognize me now?” Jongin asked once more, the smirk back on his face when he saw Yixing’s face.

“Uh, yes. I do,” Yixing responded awkwardly.

“Good. Now let’s go,” stated Jongin as he took Yixing by the hand and tugged the man towards the elevator.

“Where are we going?” asked Yixing because he knew by now that there was no arguing with Jongin. He was quickly growing exasperated with the man. He wasn’t the type to enjoy people who were extremely straightforward and gave off a wild kind of vibe. And that was exactly the kind of person Jongin was.

“Since you said it’s too late for dinner, we’re going out for ice cream instead,” Jongin simply said.

“Ice cream?” Yixing didn’t know what he had expected from Jongin but going out for ice cream was certainly not what he expected. He thought that Jongin would be the type to take someone out to do crazy things like swimming at midnight.

“Yes, ice cream. Is that strange?” Jongin laughed as he continued to tug Yixing out of the elevator and onto the streets. The night was still young and the city was lit up, neon signs glowing brightly while street lamps illuminated the roads. Cars rushed by heading to unknown destinations, much like Yixing was at the moment.

“Is this how you ask out people you’re interested in?” Yixing questioned, prying Jongin’s hand off his wrist but keeping up with his pace. “I feel more like you’re forcing me into this.”

“It worked though, didn’t it?” Jongin remarked. He had a cheeky grin on his face as if he had just won the lottery.

“Not really. Dates are supposed to be enjoyable and so far, this one isn’t,” Yixing replied bluntly.

“It hasn’t even started yet. We’re still getting to the good part, don’t worry.” Jongin swerved left all of a sudden and Yixing stumbled as he tried to switch directions too quickly. He led them down an alley and Yixing felt slightly wary but breathed in relief when they ended up in front of a colorfully lit up ice cream parlor. “This is where my friends work. They make the best ice cream.”

A bell tinkled when Jongin opened the door and he announced his entrance with a loud “Kyungsoo! Give me two of the usual.” There was an angry sounding grunt from the person Jongin had addressed and Yixing peered curiously at the man who donned a plain white apron covered in dried ice cream.

“Do you have to talk as if you own the place?” Kyungsoo muttered as he scooped some Death by Chocolate into a cone. He grabbed another one and did the same before handing them to Jongin who was grinning wolfishly at him. Kyungsoo looked past Jongin’s shoulder and finally realized that Yixing was there, his already big eyes growing wider. “Oh, who’s this?”

“This is my date,” Jongin said proudly as he slung an arm around Yixing’s shoulders. Half a second later Yixing shrugged the man’s arm off, trying hard not to look disturbed or uncomfortable. He did roll his eyes however, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Kyungsoo who chuckled.

“I’m Do Kyungsoo. Sorry that you have to have this idiot as a date,” he said while sticking out his hand. Yixing shook it, shivering from the man’s chilly skin, and smiled.

“My name is Zhang Yixing. Pleasure to meet you.” Yixing liked this man much better than Jongin; his smile was warm and inviting contrary to Jongin’s never-ending smirks and sly grins. “I’m sorry that this idiot is your friend,” he returned which gained a loud laugh from Kyungsoo.

“I like you, you’re funny,” Kyungsoo chuckled while he wiped his hands off on his apron. Another customer walked in and Kyungsoo went to take care of them, which relieved Jongin who swept Yixing away and out of the ice cream parlor. Jongin’s grip was a little too tight on Yixing and his anger was evident in the way he stormed through the streets till they reached a bench about two blocks away.

“Damn Do Kyungsoo. Making me looking bad in front of my date,” Jongin hissed between bites of ice cream. “Do you like me?”

The way Jongin suddenly turned to look at Yixing, his gaze sharp and inquiring and just the sheer straightforwardness of the question caught Yixing off guard. He blinked once, then twice before he stumbled for an answer. Not that he had a really solid answer for the man. How could he, when they had met for the first time today.

“I-uh-I like you, but more like a friend,” Yixing spluttered. There was a slight sag in Jongin’s shoulders and it made Yixing feel slightly guilty, but he couldn’t lie to the man. Jongin was handsome, hell he was y, but Yixing had this twinge in his chest that told him they wouldn’t fit together. Jongin wanted them to fit like pieces in a puzzle. To Yixing, they were pieces from two different puzzles. No matter how hard they tried, they wouldn’t fit together. Sure, Jongin could snip a few corners or smooth some edges but in the end his piece wasn’t meant for Yixing’s.

“Well, the date’s not over yet. And besides, this is just the beginning,” Jongin winked. He nudged Yixing’s hand and the dancer looked down to the ice cream cone still there, still untouched. “You should eat that before I do.” Yixing had to admit that Jongin was kinda fun to be around, at least then he’d never know what to expect. He laughed a little at the way Jongin opened his mouth and dove for the ice cream but he pulled his hand away before Jongin could even come close.

“Fine, since you treated me I’ll eat,” Yixing replied.

“Technically, Kyungsoo treated us,” said Jongin with another one of his devious smiles plastered on his face. It was then that Yixing recalled how no money had ever been exchanged for the two cool treats in their hands. He laughed harder and smacked Jongin’s forehead when the man tried to steal a bite from his ice cream again.

Jongin pouted, yes he actually pouted, and rubbed his forehead. “Geez, that actually hurt,” he mumbled. He muttered something else under his breath that Yixing couldn’t quite catch then stood up abruptly. “Let’s have a dance battle.”

“What?”

“C’mon! Eat your ice cream while we walk,” Jongin shouted over his shoulder as he began to strut away. Yixing scrambled to his feet, chomping away at his ice cream as he rushed to catch up with Jongin. They walked for a while in what would have been silence if Jongin had not been humming the entire song. Yixing couldn’t even figure out what song it was, in fact it was more like an array of random songs. Right when Yixing ate the final piece of his cone, Jongin came to a stop in front of a dark building. The sign hanging over the door was unlit but Yixing could still make out the words, ‘Huang's Dance Studio’.

“You’re a dancer, aren’t you?” Jongin asked while he began to knock on the door. Yixing wondered who could still be at the dance studio this late but said a quiet yes. “Good, that means you’ll at least be a challenge. I battled Kris and Jongdae once before and let me tell you, that was just hysterical. Those two were obviously not made to be dancers. Jongdae always calls himself a ‘dancing machine’. What a joke.”

Yixing wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light or maybe he was too tired, but he swore he saw a tender smile appear on Jongin’s face when he said the name ‘Jongdae’. He might have been able to discern more if he had the chance to ask Jongin who Jongdae was, but the door to the dance studio was thrown open catching both of them by surprise. At the door stood a tall guy with midnight black hair and sharp eyes, a scowl on his face.

“What do you want Jongin?” the guy huffed. The guy’s eyes flitted over to Yixing for a second before returning to glare at Jongin.

“I’d like to be let inside, if you don’t mind,” Jongin said. He attempted to step past the guy but he halted him by leaning across the entire doorway with an un-amused expression on his face. “Oh, c’mon Tao. Don’t be like that. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Sometimes I ask myself that question too,” Tao responded blandly before stepping out of the way. “How about, next time, you call before you show up in front of my dance studio?”

“Sure, sure,” Jongin said but Yixing could tell he wasn’t really taking in what the guy was saying.

“Good luck,” Tao whispered to Yixing before going up a flight of stairs, leaving the dancer utterly confused.

“Hurry up! I’m in the mood to dance!” Jongin called from another room which he assumed to be the actual studio. There was already music floating everywhere, a heavy dance beat reverberating throughout the room when Yixing stepped in. His heart clenched when he looked at the mirrors surrounding the room and the wooden floor. For a brief moment, he saw a man and a little boy dancing in front of his eyes laughing as if there were no worries in the world. It came but was gone half a second later leaving Yixing with a hole in his heart. He had no time to call it back, reach for it in his mind with desperate hands, when Jongin tugged him into the center of the room.

“Let’s warm up first,” Jongin remarked, oblivious to the inner workings of Yixing’s mind and his uncanny need to hold onto images with his heart. He remembered his backpack then, and more than that he remembered the shoes.

Standing in the middle of a dance studio without those shoes felt wrong, so wrong, and Yixing could barely concentrate on the pulsing music because of how much he yearned to have those shoes.

---

“So, has the person fallen in love with you yet?” the dancer’s friend asked as she watched the dancer in the middle of the studio, flowing with the rhythm.

“Hmm, I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to wait another week or two to find out,” the dancer replied with a tiny smile.

“Will you tell me who it is?” she asked.

“Like I said, it’s a secret,” the dancer chuckled. “Now hush so I can practice in peace.”

“You’re so mean,” the dancer’s friend laughed as she pretended to throw her show at him. When he started dancing, she stopped everything and her eyes were glued to him taking in every movement; every flick of his wrist, twist and turn of his body, every smooth and calculated step. It was absolutely mesmerizing.

---

Kris had his eyes closed, a scene of him shooting himself in the head playing over and over as he listened to Jongin go on about his date with Yixing last night. He wanted to douse the fiery feeling igniting his heart while he was forced to listen to every single fluff-filled detail of Jongin’s “perfect first date” with Yixing. I am not jealous. I am not jealous, he chanted in his mind a million times. Wu Yifan, you are not jealous. Definitely not jealous of Ballet Boy for getting to be with that man with his stupid, adorable dimples. Kris had no idea when he came up with the nickname for Jongin, it just came to him at that moment.

That morning, Jongin had practically skipped into work, his face positively glowing with sheer happiness. Kris thought that maybe Jongin had a twin who walked in instead but sadly that was not the case. It was the real Jongin, albeit much joyful, and he would not shut up about his wonderful date.

“It was really awkward at first because I kinda just showed up at his apartment without warning. I’m pretty sure he thought I was a or something. But later, we had ice cream and had a dance battle,” Jongin rambled on and it was the most Kris had ever heard him say in a span of five minutes. “I tried to kiss him but I guess I was moving too fast because he got all flustered and left in a rush.”

Kris’ blood boiled against his will when he heard about Jongin’s almost-kiss with Yixing. He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter and inhaled deeply. “That’s great, now can you please get out of my office. Why don’t you tell your story to Jongdae instead,” Kris hissed through clenched teeth. He shouldn’t be jealous and definitely not over a guy who wasn’t even close to being his.

After convincing himself that he wasn’t jealous, Kris pulled Yixing’s backpack out from where he had kept it beneath his desk. Then, he it into Jongin’s arms. Jongin raised his brows in surprise but took the backpack anyways.

“Here, return this to your boyfriend for me,” Kris muttered bitterly.

“Are you okay? You sound a little angry. I mean, you usually sound grumpy but you sound a bit more grumpy than usual,” Jongin remarked.

“I’m fine,” Kris growled. “Now get back to work.”

Jongin put his hands up defensively (the backpack already slung over his shoulders) and started walking out. “Fine, have fun working Gramps,” Jongin scoffed. “By the way, he’s not my boyfriend…yet.” He waggled his eyebrows before leaving the room laughing too loudly. Kris grimaced unconsciously and smacked his forehead for being stupid.

“What’s wrong with you today, Kris?” he grumbled to himself. His elbow slipped off the desk and hit the keyboard, causing Kris’ computer screen to flash several times before going black. “! Why are you doing this to me?” Kris groaned in agony. “, , .”

After retrieving help from a cackling Jongdae, Kris was finally able to get his to work. Sighing with relief, he rushed to catch up with where he needed to be that day. It wasn’t until several hours had passed, his eyes were bloodshot, his fingers tingled from the endless typing, and his eyelids drooped did he stop. His body had some sort of internal alarm clock, or at least that’s what everyone at the office thought, and it knew when work was over even when Kris was too deeply into it. His head swiveled to glance at the digital clock on his desk and saw it was ten minutes till five. Almost mindlessly, Kris packed up his belongings, shut down his computer, and left his office.

He walked by Jongin’s desk and the boy was nowhere to be found. There was a little note written on a hot pink post-it (though Kris had no idea where the boy got a hot pink post-it in the first place) and he stooped down to look at it. The message was cheeky and annoying and Kris could hear Jongin’s irritating voice in his head as he read it. The boy left early because he wanted to return Yixing’s backpack to its rightful owner which meant Jongin would be seeing Yixing which made Kris even more displeased with the boy. Crumpling the note in his hand, he tossed it into a nearby trash bin before trudging out the building.

Kris had only taken ten steps away from the office building when his phone rang incessantly, his ringtone blaring through the air. He cursed as he fumbled to get the stupid thing out of his pocket and struggled to even answer the incoming call. When he did, he wasn’t sure he was happy with who had called him.

“Kris! It’s an emergency!” Luhan’s voice came panicky through the line. “I really need your help.”

“And why should I help you when you skipped work today. Again,” Kris replied without a hint of sympathy.

“No, I’m serious though, it’s really an emergency,” Luhan pleaded, his voice sounding desperate. The plea was so odd and unusual; the tone of Luhan’s voice raw and bordering on terror, that Kris paused before responding. If Luhan was merely acting, than he was a damn good actor. Not wanting to take chances, Kris pressed the phone closer and gripped it a little more tightly.

“What’s wrong? What’s the emergency?” he finally replied, worry lacing his tone.

“J-just come to this address,” Luhan shakily responded after giving Kris the address to a place that was about a twenty minute walk from where he was. “I’ll explain then.”

“Wait, are you okay though? Luhan? Luhan!” Kris shouted but Luhan had already hung up. Cursing, Kris sprinted off to go find his friend and rescue him from whatever emergency he had gotten in. A hundred scenarios played through Kris’ mind, ranging from bad to worse and finally to utterly horrific. The thought of one of his closest friends getting into some dangerous situation made Kris’ stomach twist and turn.

What should have been a twenty minute trip turned into a eight minute one as Kris skidded to a stop in front of the building’s address that Luhan had given him. He blinked several times not quite understanding why he was standing in front of Huang’s Dance Studio. He had never even heard of this place before. At least it looked somewhat clean and not so sketchy. Or that’s what he thought.

Kris didn’t waste any time and burst through the door only to find the main lobby empty. He quietly went down a hallway, afraid that if Luhan was indeed surrounded by people trying to steal and/or kill him, it was better to have the advantage of surprise. As he headed further down the hallway, walking by empty practice rooms and wondering how this studio had so many, he felt more than he heard a heavy bass line with a fast-paced instrumental over it. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Now why on earth would someone attempting murder (at least that was the theory so far) be blasting music?

The rustle of fabric and the squeak of rubber soles on hardwood did not sound frantic, oddly enough. Still, if Luhan wasn’t lying to Kris then he was in fact in danger at the moment. So, Kris swung the door open, revealing a figure dancing to the energetic music dressed in a white wife beater, gray sweat pants, and that ratty old pair of gray converse. His back was to him and the entry was placed in such a way that it wasn’t visible in the mirrors. Just from the shoes, Kris already knew it was Yixing who was putting everything into the dance, every movement of his body so precise, every step so smooth, and it flowed so beautifully.

As if on cue, the song ended and switched to a new song with a much slower tempo. The way Yixing transitioned from his earlier powerful moves and into the delicate, graceful twists and turns was mesmerizing in the best way. Kris found his eyes glued to the dancer, drinking in every single detail about him, the way Yixing’s brows furrowed slightly in concentration, the way he paid attention to each beat, the way his body moved to the rhythm.

Watching all of it was truly breathtaking. It was like seeing elegance personified.

And before he knew it, Kris was already falling hard for the dancer. There was no turning back now, and a part of his mind had already known that fact. It was like trying to change his mind once he’d already jumped off the plane.

Kris’ heart was beating several paces faster than the song’s tempo and he thought he was breathing more rapidly than Yixing. His fingers fumbled over the doorknob, slipping over it as he tried to back out and close the door. However, his body didn’t listen to him and pushed instead of pulled the door and in turn Kris went tumbling to the ground. If the thud of his body hitting the floor didn’t alert Yixing to his presence, then the loud grunt of pain he made certainly did.

“K-Kris?” Yixing’s voice was suddenly too close for him to still be on the other side of the room and Kris was afraid to turn his head but he did so anyways, coming face to face with a concerned Yixing. Apparently, Yixing hadn’t expected Kris to turn his head so quickly or underestimated how close they actually were because when Kris did swing his head to look at him the tips of their noses brushed together. Yixing pulled back in surprise and Kris felt his heart stop for half a second before beating out of control.

“Are you alright?” asked Yixing. The only thing Kris could do was nod dumbly, not trusting his voice to answer. Yixing smiled with relief and held his hand out.  “Here, stand up.”

When their hands touched, Kris wondered if Yixing felt the same sizzle of energy he did or if he was disgusted by how sweaty Kris’ hand was. Whatever it was, Yixing had no reaction except to smile even wider as he helped Kris to his feet.

“Ten thousand," Yixing said.

“What?” Kris blurted in confusion.

“Ten thousand Won. For watching me dance,” he continued, “Dancing is my job you know? I usually get paid when people watch me dance.”

“Oh,” Kris replied. He felt stupid at his one worded responses and hoped to God that Yixing couldn’t see the blush creeping up his face. Zhang Yixing, what are you doing to me? I never blush, Kris thought to himself.

“But, since you found my backpack for me I’ll take that as payment,” Yixing went on with that gorgeous smile still adorning his lips.

“H-how?” said Kris.

“How’d I know? Jongin told me when he returned it to me today.” Yixing’s smile turned sheepish and he scratched the back of his head. “Umm, I just wanna say thanks though. For finding it. These shoes are really important to me. They’re my most important treasure.”

“Those shoes? But they’re just a ty old pair of converse,” Kris blurted out without thinking, much to his dismay. It was one of his quirks, saying the wrong things whenever he was nervous.

“They may just be some old pair of shoes to you, but you don’t know what they mean to me,” Yixing responded sharply. “Thank you for finding them. Now, I need to practice in peace.”

Oops. Kris ed up big time. He felt like slamming his head against the door or maybe the floor, whichever would hurt more. He opened his mouth to say more, looking for the right words but they just wouldn’t come. His mind turned cloudy and now fear was added to the nervousness. He feared that Yixing would hate him if he said something more. So, in the end he bowed slightly before leaving the dancer alone. And the farther he got from the dance studio, the more right words appeared his mind. Words like “I’m sorry” or “I didn’t mean it that way”. Words of apology and regret for being stupid and assuming that the quality of Yixing’s shoes made any difference to how much they meant to him. Kris knew very well that a person’s most treasured item could be something as simple as a Pororo pencil.