The abandoned theater was an ugly blotch that had been painted into the middle of a bustling downtown area known as Geugjang Street. To its left was a cheap bar that was popular with university students. The bar blared rock music while neon lights flashed until late at night, and its customers almost always left completely drunk. During the day its customers were less wild. It was only slightly loud when the afternoon gossips came to chatter over glasses of cheap alcohol. To the right of the theater was a nightclub for foreigners. Oddly enough, it was also the business with the highest crime rate on that street. The nightclub and bar were both modern and popular, but the theater had not been open for over sixty years. It was run-down with faded and chipped paint, more than a few crumbling bricks, creaking floorboards, and crimson, moth-eaten curtains covered the windows so that no prying eyes could peer through to the inside. Most people assumed that the inside was similar.

Kim Sunggyu did not count as most people.

Kim Sunggyu was a quiet twenty-something-year-old who had left university a few years earlier. He had small, black eyes and a round face that slightly resembled a hamster. His black hair had been dyed a dark shade of brown. This man walked down the street through the light rain. Faint rolls of thunder could be heard about a mile off. Sunggyu’s pace quickened. He re-adjusted his grip on the handle of his umbrella for a third time. Once the theater was in his line of vision, he immediately searched his pocket for his key ring, fumbling a bit when they almost slipped through his fingers. He cursed and unlocked the front door. He glanced around before quickly shutting the door behind him after he had stepped into the grand hall. He dropped off his wet umbrella by the front desk and continued on into the backstage area.

No one else ever went inside the theater. It was only Sunggyu who did. The person who had maintained the place before him had been his grandfather, and before his grandfather, his father. They were the guardians, the secret keepers. None of them had held a “proper” job, but each day after they had come home from watching the theater, a sum of money had been waiting for them. There was no explanation as to where it came from.

No one else ever went inside. Sure, everyone had heard storied from their grandparents that they had gone on dates to see the wonderful show that had played all year round, and how it had suddenly shut down one day. Several teenagers had tried to break in to say that they had seen the stage, but none of them had made it past the grand hall.

The grand hall was enormous. It had a high ceiling and plush, red rugs that covered scuffed-up wood. The floors and walls creaked every night when the temperature changed even slightly. The wall behind the front desk, where people had presented their tickets, was covered by a gilded mirror. As Sunggyu continued down the hallway, he saw a few doors that led to different parts of the theater. He passed the balcony, a private box, and a flight of stairs. He began to hear faint strains of music once he had passed the last door on his left. There was a final door at the end of the hall. It was the one that closed off backstage from the rest of the theater. Sunggyu opened it, grabbed a container of rosin, and entered the stage.

His gaze instantly traveled to the seemingly young girl on the opposite side of the stage. Her form was so graceful; he did not understand how anyone could resist staring at her. She was beautiful as well – slender and fair-skinned with full pink lips and round eyes. Her black hair had long ago been pulled back into a bun. She was a little on the short side, but her presence dominated the stage. Her white costume had a fluffy tutu and tight top that had been designed to resemble a bodice. Scarlet ribbon laced up the back. His eyes landed on her feet, where the physical part of her curse showed.

Red ballet shoes adorned her small feet. The ribbons were twisted around her legs, reaching almost to her knees. If someone looked closely enough, they would see that thin, golden chains were woven in with the ribbons. She could never take off the shoes, and she could never stop dancing.

The girl’s eyes met Sunggyu’s. She gave him a small smile as she did another pirouette. Sunggyu figured that it must be lonely for her in the theater, so he would sometimes talk to her as she danced.

“You’re back,” she noted. He nodded and awkwardly held up the rosin.

“I brought more so you can… What is it for again?” he asked.

“It helps with friction or something. Either way, it helps,” she explained.

“I’ll put it down then,” he said. The girl only continued to dance. She moved lithely out of his way so he could spread it around the stage. When he had finished, he walked down to the chairs meant for the audience. He was her audience of one.

Sometimes when he watched her he would read or go over something or just sit there, but that day he asked her something that had been on his mind for a while.

“Why haven’t you told me your name?” he questioned.

“You haven’t asked, have you?” she replied. She leaped.

“I did,” he sighed.

“Oh,” she almost tripped, “well, it’s Chunhei. My name is Chunhei.”

“Chunhei, you’re very pretty when you dance,” he blurted out. His face turned a bright shade of red that could compare to her shoes. She stopped in the middle of the stage to do turns as they spoke.

“So I’ve heard,” she told him.

Sunggyu looked down, embarrassed. He knew her story. He had been told it since he was a little boy. She had been cursed by one of his ancestors to never stop dancing because she had been vain to an extreme. She had once been a prima ballerina, but now she was the only ballerina. To punish her and make her think about the consequences of her actions, his ancestors had cursed her. He had died before he had been able to break it.

“You remind me of him, you know,” Chunhei spoke up.

“The man who curs- I mean, did this?” Sunggyu looked up again. She was using his face to spot as she spun. She didn’t reply.

“What was his name anyway?” he inquired.

“You should know. You’re related to him! I didn’t see him that often, but his brother was one of the dancers. They were both older than me,” she recalled.

“Really? I never knew he had a brother,” he laughed.

She sent him a cold glare. “There are a lot of things you don’t know.”

Sunggyu sighed. She had said similar things before. He assumed that it had to do with the reason she had been cursed in the first place. Whenever he actually asked her what she meant, she refused to tell him. He had learned quickly that there were certain topics that she never touched upon. He stayed away from those most of the time.

“I don’t think I told you yet!” he suddenly shouted out.

“Told me what?” she asked.

“I have a younger brother, well, half-brother – we have different fathers – and he just got accepted into a major ballet company!” he said excitedly.  Chunhei sighed and pranced across the stage.

“Warn him to be wary of fans,” she told him.

“What?”

“You heard me, Sunggyu-ssi, beware of fans. You can never tell which ones are actually insane until it’s too late.” She tried her best to meet his eyes, but it was hard as she was constantly moving.

“Right.” Sunggyu ran a hand through his hair. They continued to chat for a few more hours, and then Sunggyu checked his watch. It was almost nine o’clock at night. He stood up, bid her farewell, and locked up the theater once more. He felt bad about leaving her there alone every night, but he realized that there was nothing he could do about it. He believed that there was no one to blame but herself anyway. She had been the one who had decided to be vain. No one had forced her to act like that.

Sunggyu walked to his bus stop through the rain once more. Small drops of water constantly dripped from the edges of his umbrella and onto his shoes. He tried to avoid puddles at first, but soon gave up. His socks were already soaked through. The bottoms of his pants were wet as well by the time he reached his house. He left his umbrella and shoes by the front door, and he stepped into the warm glow of his home. The rest of his family – his mother, step-father, and half-brother – were sitting at the dining table, waiting for him.

He bowed with a smile, not missing his brother’s irritated expression. “Hello.” His parents nodded back.

“Come on, sit down. We’ve been waiting for you,” his mother, Kim Joohyun, said.

“Yeah, and I bet the food’s cold now,” his younger brother, Lee Sungjong, muttered under his breath. Only Sunggyu was able to hear it as he sat down next to him. He did not say anything, however. He had no desire to start an argument in front of their parents. In fact, he hoped for just the opposite. He wanted to become closer to his younger brother.

“It hasn’t been that long, Sungjong!” Joohyun laughed, though it was a tense, nervous laugh.

“How was the theater?” Sungjong’s father, Lee Jongmin, asked.

“It was fine. I need to fix that one window in the hall. I was thinking of going to the store in a day or two to get some glass. I would hire someone, but…” Sunggyu sighed.

“But what? You act as if all that legend stuff was true. I know it was a big deal a long time ago, but there’s no reason to bring it up now,” Sungjong scoffed.

“Watch your tongue!” Jongmin snapped. Sungjong rolled his eyes and went back to eating.

Sunggyu stared at his younger brother for a minute before he spoke again.

“Come with me to the theater tomorrow. I need to show you something,” he said.

“Why should I?” Sungjong questioned.

“Because you’ll want to see it,” Sunggyu replied.

Sungjong lifted one perfect eyebrow. He expected something great.

The next afternoon the two brothers set out on their way to Geugjang Street. The younger brother was sulking, as usual, while the older brother smiled and greeted a few people he recognized on the street. They reached the theater in just a few minutes, and Sunggyu quickly locked the door after they had entered.

Sungjong stared in awe of the interior of the abandoned building. He ran his fingers over the crimson silk curtains, and glanced at the cream-and-gold walls. He appeared envious for a moment, then scornful once more.

“Why is all of this being wasted? The stage at the university isn’t nearly as nice as this,” he asked.

“You’re about to see,” was all Sunggyu said. He led his brother down the hallway to the stage area’s entrance. He held the door open, and Sungjong stepped in with wide eyes. He glanced back at his older brother.

“She’s real?”

Chunhei was doing what she had done every day for who knows how long, and she hardly took any notice of the light coming from the door.

“Chunhei, I’ve brought my brother,” Sunggyu called out as the two walked onto the stage.

“The dancer?” Chunhei turned so that she was facing the brothers. She bowed slightly to Sunggyu, then looked to Sungjong. Her eyes widened.

“Sungmin?” she whispered. She took a couple of light steps closer.

“Um, no, it’s Sungjong,” Sungjong said awkwardly.

Chunhei blinked. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

“I-It’s fine,” Sungjong sighed. Sunggyu wanted to laugh looking at the dancers. Never had he seen his younger be so nervous around a girl. Chunhei, the normally distant ballerina, was blushing ever so slightly as well.

“I’m going to go get some things to fix the front window. You guys should talk about ballet or something. Have fun!” Sunggyu left, chuckling as he went.

He bought what he needed, returned to fix the window, and then went home without seeing the girl. Sungjong was home shortly after.

“How was it?” Sunggyu asked.

“Nothing special,” Sungjong murmured, but his eyes said otherwise. Sunggyu had to fight to hold back a smirk.

“Okay,” he said.

The following morning Sunggyu went to work as usual. He walked over the plush red carpets, dusted the front counter and cleaned the enormous mirror, and picked up a bucket of rosin for Chunhei. Something was off that morning, and it took him a minute to realize that he could not hear any music from the stage. He wondered if it was just between songs, but even after thirty minutes, only silence filled the halls. Sunggyu eventually became worried enough to go see Chunhei.

When he arrived on stage, what he saw made his heart ache. The little ballerina had finally collapsed. The thin chains that had kept her in the red shoes had snapped, and the glittering pieces of it were scattered across the stage. The color of the cursed shoes had bled out onto the hardwood as well, leaving the shoes a pure white. The poor girl looked like she had frozen. Her skin, now matching her costume, was paler than the moon. Her lips were a bluish-violet and parted slightly as if any second she would take another breath. Sunggyu could barely make out the icy trails left by tears that had frozen on her cheeks. He reached out to touch her but instantly recoiled because of the coldness that radiated from her body.

“What happened?” he asked the empty space.

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First part is finally up xD

from your evil author,

Juliette