“Why do I have to learn how to dance anyway!?” Minho complained to no one in particular, pacing around in a dress, “I’m a boy! I can’t learn how to dance like a girl!” the princess groaned before he pulled at his hair, “and then he tells me I might as well since I’ve been raised up like a girl!” Shaking his head in disbelief, Minho continues to ramble on, “I can wear a dress and be the daughter my mother always wanted, but I don’t want to learn how to dance like a girl, there’s no point, it’s not like I can get married in the future…when I’m actually a prince pretending to be a princess and all”, Minho took in a deep breath, “why is dancing so hard!?”

“Would you like me to teach you how to dance, my princes?” Nichkhun, a servant boy asks quietly, but loud enough for the only princess of the castle to hear. He doesn’t know what possessed him to ask, it was misconduct to even offer to help something to the princess who had everything. But Nichkhun just couldn’t leave the country’s princess to be helpless against the pain of learning how to dance.

Minho looked at the servant boy with shocked eyes, embarrassed that there was someone listening to him complain and ramble like that. However, he blinked away his flushed cheeks and asked the servant boy curiously, “you know how to dance? How?”

Nichkhun merely smiles at his cross-dressing Princess. He wasn’t going to tell anyone about how he was taught how to dance when he was the Prince of his country. But now that his country had gone into overthrown his family and his life was endangered, he was determined to throw his past behind him and start anew.

Minho didn’t know how to decipher the other’s smile but he trusted the other enough to place his smooth hand on top of the outstretched chapped hand. He looked towards the servant boy and gave a shy and embarrassed smile.

The cross-dressing princess soon learnt that the servant boy was a good dancer, a good teacher. He was being led perfectly, as though the servant boy had been dancing all his life.

“What’s your name?” Minho asks the other boy

“Nichkhun”

Minho blinks brightly and smiles, “would you teach me more tomorrow night? I kind of want to get some sleep now”

Nichkhun bows politely, “of course”

Reluctantly, Minho lets go of the other’s hand, “you really won’t mind? Even though I’m a boy and all…”

Shaking his head, Nichkhun answers honestly, “I’m honoured to”

For the next couple of days, Minho would realise that he’d start noticing Nichkhun more as he went around the castle doing what he was supposed to do. His mornings were normal, dull like all other mornings as his mother, the queen gently combed his hair. His father, the king would try to find him in the afternoons only to find that Minho was out playing soccer with his many brothers. The father would complain and drag Minho back into his room and lecture about how a proper girl should act. Minho’s mother would pop by later on with a wardrobe of new dresses and play dress up with her daughter.

“Have you thought about hiring a dance instructor?” Minho’s mother asks Minho kindly as she picks out the next dress for Minho to try.

Minho shakes his head, “I rather learn by myself”

“You do know your father wishes dearly for you to be able to participate in the ball that’s coming up soon right?”

Minho gives his mother a small smile, “I’m sure I’ll be decent enough by then, so don’t worry”, Minho gingerly takes the dress his mother had picked out and gives it a glance before he tries it on.

“But are you really going to be able to do well if you’re just practicing by yourself, dear?”

Beaming brightly, Minho twirls a little in the new dress and smiles at his mother, “I’m actually practicing with one of the servants here. He’s really good. I’m learning a lot from him.”

The queen looks disapprovingly at Minho but does not say anything as she purses her lips.

Minho can read the worry on his mother’s face. With a rather sullen look, he places a hand on his mother’s tired looking shoulder and tells her that he’ll be perfectly fine.

Every night, Minho would make sure to seek Nichkhun out so that he could ask the other to refine his dance. It didn’t take long before Minho found himself feeling particularly comfortable around the boy who was only a couple of years older than himself. It was like he had an extra brother. A brother he probably liked too much.

“I think I like you”, Minho confesses to Nichkhun, “even though I know I shouldn’t, since I’m really a boy”, Minho tries to understand Nichkhun’s expression but he is greeted with the same charming smile, “but it seems my parents are really determined in leaving me as a girl for the rest of my life, so I think it’s okay if I fall in love with you.”

“I’m sorry”, Nichkhun apologises and steps back from Minho and bows, “I’m not suitable”

Crestfallen, Minho places his hands nearly by his sides and looks at Nichkhun with round eyes, “I, I’m not suitable either am I? Since I won’t be able to bear your children.”

Shaking his head, Nichkhun disagrees, “gender has nothing to do with love, Princess”

Biting his lips, Minho lowers his head and closes his eyes. He’s confused and doesn’t know what to think. “But you love me too, right?” Minho asks, uncertain.

“Of course”, Nichkhun answers immediately, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Minho does not smile. He takes in a sharp breath when he feels Nichkhun hold his hands.

“Shall we go back to dancing?” Nichkhun asks gently, his hold on Minho’s delicate hands was even gentler.

Nodding, Minho finds it hard to look Nichkhun in the eye, but he does so anyway, every so shyly.

“Princess, you’ve gotten better, you improve so quickly”, Nichkhun praises with a smile, “You, I hope you’ll enjoy dancing more and more”

Minho’s grip on Nichkhun tightens a little, “I think I have, and it’s all thanks to you.”

Nichkhun gives a small smile and leaves a small kiss on Minho’s fingertips.

The next day. Minho is unable to find Nichkhun. Later, he learns that Nichkhun had left the country. There were so many reasons he could think of, yet he hadn’t a clue as to which reason was the real reason for Nichkhun’s leave. Perhaps, it was a reason he couldn’t even comprehend yet.

They met again five years later. Minho was going to turn 18 soon and his father had picked out a suitable suitor for his princess.

This time, Nichkhun was no longer just a servant boy. He was a butler. The butler of the suitor who had crossed countries to see Minho.

The only thing the cross-dressing princess could do was stand and stare at Nichkhun, wanting to reach out and ask if Nichkhun still remembers him, wanting to dance with the other, wanting to know if Nichkhun still harboured similar feelings. But it was inappropriate.

It was when Minho spotted Nichkhun in the hallways where he ran up to the slightly older one, “Nichkhun!” Minho called out, his hand leaving his dress to latch onto Nichkhun’s sleeve.

“Princess”, Nichkhun states, bowing politely.

Minho feels a little disappointed when Nichkhun does not say anything else, and so he asks the butler “do you remember me?”

“Of course”, Nichkhun answers simply, bowing again.

Minho is relieved, he lets go of Nichkhun’s sleeve and brings his hands back to sit on his lacy dress, “I, I really missed you. You just disappeared all of a sudden one day. I, I don’t…”

“I’m sorry”, Nichkhun apologises, not looking into Minho’s eyes. There was no way he could tell the other that he was running away to a country even further to avoid having people from his original country recognise him.

“I’m so glad to see you”, Minho smiles sweetly, “I never stopped thinking about you.”

Nichkhun looks up at Minho’s confession with shocked and sad eyes, “I never forgot you either”

Smiling widely, Minho walks away gracefully with red cheeks.

“What do you mean you don’t want to get married!?” the king asks, unhappy.

Minho looked away, pouting, “I’ve told you this before, you just never listen to what I have to say.”

“Stop being so selfish!”

“I don’t want to marry someone I don’t love. Plus, I can’t give him children anyway

“Oh! My child, don’t be so vulgar” the queen exclaimed, shocked as she hurried over to Minho and held his bony shoulders.

“But it’s the truth, is it not?” Minho asked, “and he’s so much older than me. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with someone who can be my father.”

“Minho!” the king bellowed, “you shall not be so rude. He crossed many mountains just to see you and take you to be his queen.”

“If that’s the case, why can’t you just put one of my many older brothers into a dress? He wouldn’t know the difference.” Minho argued, displeased.

“How could I do that to them!?” the king retorted, “they have to lead our country one day.

Sulking, Minho wondered how he was even put into a dress in the first place, “I’m your only daughter aren’t I? Don’t send me away to a e”, he looked towards his mother with pleading eyes.

“Aww, my sweetie”, the mother cries as she envelops Minho into a tight hug, “you’re my beautiful daughter, but decisions have to be made for the good of this kingdom.”

Forlorn, Minho leaves the room respectfully and heads back to his own room, he collapses onto his bed and groans. Life could be so unfair sometimes. Sighing, Minho pulled himself together and straightened his dress. He was still a proper princess. Silently, he left his room and started wandering the castle, hoping that he would coincidentally bump into Nichkhun.

And perhaps it was his prayers that were answered as he did bump into Nichkhun that night.

“I…”, Minho stammered, blushing cutely.

“Good Evening”, Nichkhun bows politely again.

“Good Evening”, Minho greets back and wonders what to do with the rather awkward atmosphere, “have, have you been well?”

“Yes, I have”, Nichkhun nods, “have you been practicing dancing?”

A smile graces Minho’s features as he tells Nichkhun how much he’s been practicing, and just how hard it is to practice by yourself.

“I, do you still love me?” Minho asks

Nichkhun looks down, not knowing how he should answer but whispers in the end, “how could I not?” he looks up to see Minho smile with flushed cheeks and can only think about how adorable the other looked.

Naturally, two pairs of lips come together and brush against each other lightly, hidden by the dark of the night as the candles were blown out.

The next morning, Minho confidently declared that he would rather die than get married to the suitor who had painfully crossed countries to see him.

It was not surprising when the king fumed and started lecturing again, and he only became angrier when Minho stood firm, stubborn with his decision.

“How will I be able to answer the poor man who has come all this way for you?” the king asks Minho scornfully.

“You don’t need to”, Minho bites his lips, “or you can always give away one of my brothers. I have so many after all.” The cross-dressing princess knew that he didn’t mean it when he told his father he didn’t mind if one of his brothers were given away instead of himself. But for now. It was okay.

Shaking his head in frustration, the king pushes Minho out of the room, telling Minho that he’ll deal with his troublesome behaviour later.

Crossing his arms in a very unlady-like manner, Minho stalked out of the room with a dissatisfied expression. That night, Minho was able to dodge his father’s piercing stare and stroll down the hallways to find Nichkhun. Immediately, Minho held the other’s hand, lacing their fingers.

“I heard you refused the marriage proposal”, Nichkhun stated, wanting to know if it were really true.

Minho nodded, confirming that it was true.

“My king is greatly disappointed. I think we’ll be leaving soon”

“You can’t stay?” Minho asks, saddened by this fact.

Shaking his head, Nichkhun apologises softly, knowing that he shouldn’t even be sharing such a relationship in the first place. But he does not say anything when Minho sighs and leans on his shoulder. The touch was welcome.

“Minho?” a low voice calls out, jolting the pair from their stupor.

Instantly, Minho looks up with surprise as he stammers out one word, “F-father!?”

“You, you! What are you doing!?” The king cries angrily as he takes an iron grip on Minho’s skinny arm.

Minho could only gape with shock at his father.

The king moves his focus towards Nichkhun and points and accusing finger at the other, “you! You must be the one who has corrupted my baby!”

Nichkhun stands up from where he was sitting and bows towards the king and whispers a soft, “sorry”

Before Minho could even fully comprehend what was going on, he finds Nichkhun locked up in the dungeons; cold, damp and dark.

Lifting his dress up slightly, Minho runs towards his father’s living quarters. He tries to explain to his father that Nichkhun was the one who taught him dancing. He admits that he had fallen in love with the talented man but the king hears nothing and dismisses Minho, ordering the princess back to his room.

Nothing was going to be okay anymore.

“You shouldn’t be here”, Nichkhun tells Minho when he sees the other sit outside his cell, “your dress is going to get dirty”

Minho shakes his head and sticks his hands through the bars and reaches towards Nichkhun., “I finally get to see you again and we’re thrown in this predicament. It’s all my fault, I’m so sorry”

Nichkhun leans forward to hold Minho’s trembling hand, wanting to soothe the other, but not know how as he could already see the end of his future.

“I, I’m sorry even though I’m really happy to just to be able to see you right now. So happy that even though we’ll probably never be able to be together in this life, just lacing fingers with you right now lifts my heart”, Minho chokes on his own tears as he confesses.

Minho’s hand gently, Nichkhun tries to not cry as he listens to Minho’s sobs. But in the end, his tears flow endlessly.

“My father says he’s going to have you executed…”, Minho tells Nichkhun, “so I told him that I was going to follow you if he did…”

Nichkhun squeezed Minho’s hand and spoke, “you can’t do that.”

“My father, he probably didn’t know what to say so he sent me back to my room”, Minho states, biting his lips, “I’ll be happy, happy if I could spend my last moments with you.”

“Minho?” Nichkhun asks, fear lacing thickly in his voice as he crawls closer to the bars of his cell so he could reach and caress Minho’s damp cheeks.

“I’ll see you on the other side”, Minho smiles sweetly as he places a hand on top of Nichkhun’s hand on his cheek, “I’ll be missing you”

Nichkhun did not want to understand what Minho was saying. But the truth is fact. And there was nothing he could do as he watched Minho take out a small vial and swallow the contents.

When he regained his senses, Minho had already collapsed before him. He seemed so far yet so close. Eyes widening, Nichkhun gently shook the shoulders of the princess, his grip tightening when Minho showed no signs of waking. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Minho was already dead. Hurriedly, Nichkhun took the vial Minho had taken out before and tried to swallow any leftover contents in the vial. He was reminded of the play ‘Romeo and Juliet’ as he desperately tried to find a way to end his own life.

It took less than an hour before Minho’s body was discovered and removed from the dungeons. Nichkhun could hear the mourning for the lost royalty even though he was locked up deep in the dungeons. Even he did not have any more tears to cry.

It took a couple of days for Nichkhun to collapse from hunger. His face glum and hollow. It didn’t take long after for the man to lose his thoughts as he starved to death.

.

.

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“That, that was a really touching movie”, the members of 2PM and SHINee wiped their tears as the credits rolled down the screen, “Minho and Khun are such good actors.”