Sehun stared at the rainbow coloured dreamcatcher beside his mattress, admiring how its feathers fluttered aimlessly in the wind from a dusty standing fan beside his feet.

He never found much beauty in the existence of such fragile objects, an unfortunate aftermath of his own past.

He grew up a little differently as a quiet child who would fade into the backgrounds, hiding within the corners of a playground as children his age rushed about plodding about on the soft ground with their bare feet. He was the kind of boy who would remain silent in a discussion, the kind who would rather leave himself to drown in his thoughts, the kind who was not worthy of attention. Recollections of his childhood simply meant memories of him walking slowly down dark quiet corridors, the raindrops pacing his footsteps. He was never a trusting person, and no one knew of his thoughts. Serene and tranquil was his façade, covering layers of anger and frustration. He was never happy. In fact he was filled with guilt, resentment and emptiness; a little hot air balloon awaiting its explosion. Since young he had taken a liking towards things that made him feel strong, things that allowed him to feel like he was in control, things that could grant him the security and certainty that he sought after. Perhaps that was when he fell in love with the thought of dance, the thought of being able to come up with things that he could proudly call his own, the thought of being able to feel strong bass as he took control of the stage, and he would get the assurance he needed if he fit the bill in the eyes of the audience. He recalled the first time he stepped into a dance studio near the service apartment he had been residing in. A checkered button down shirt hung loosely over his shoulders as he walked across the road, passing by the bustling crowds of the night markets. He detested night markets, the blurry neon lights and the strong sense of belonging; belonging did not exist in his definitions.

“We’ll be doing this song today and the choreography was by Jongin! Give him some applause for his spectacular performance after just a few months!” Such a cheerful voice, must be a terribly free soul. Sehun peered into the room to see a man in a white shirt and grey sweatpants standing next to another man who was peeking through his brown side fringe hanging down loosely under the comfort of his black hoodie. He caught his eye and turned away quickly; eye contact was a difficult task. The rest of the class seemed ordinary enough, a group of people with similar interests. Sehun walked towards the back of the room and placed his items carefully on the designated shelves and adjusted his cap quickly.

“Ah so uh. This is awkward bu