ii. the second step

It was not like Kim Jongin had a case of hubris nor was he blinded by ego, but he was kind to himself and was pretty much aware of his current standing.

At the academy of Seonu, one of the hottest and well-respected dance school that contemporary Seoul had to offer, pride was natural if you were able to get in, but to make a name of yourself within it? Well, that was another story on all its own.

He was proud and he was happy, so acknowledging how he got to where he was now was something he didn’t mind doing. This achievement wasn’t spoon-fed to him, after all—he worked for it.

As a person that originated from outside Seoul, his chances were scarce to start with but that hadn’t deterred him. Brought up in a household that vehemently believed in working your way up, these were the beliefs Jongin carried him all the way from his hometown and had proven valuable once he received his admission letter.

And it was through this letter that would extend his path to university as an aspiring student.

This led a lifestyle that balanced itself between honing his skills at the academy and applying them at university, so Jongin was always working towards his goal.

He danced and danced and danced that it took most of his time, but he didn’t mind. He aimed to be the best and the possibility was within reach as long as he kept at it, right?

Right, and everyone was quickly becoming aware of this too as they praised him but it wasn’t enough. Not when the number one title wasn’t his. Not yet.

At the moment that belonged to someone else and that someone else was now showing him exactly why it was hers and not his.

She twisted, she glided, much like an apparition whose feet hovered and was not burdened by gravity. Maybe gravity didn’t apply to her because she moved like water across the floor, ebbing smoothly but ferocious beneath the surface.

Gong Minji danced like that, and with an intensity that matched the glow in her eyes and the bottom lip was caught between her lips. If Jongin had to be honest, it was almost hypnotic that hearing the guy next to him gulp wasn’t that surprising.

As the performance concluded, the room was late in its reaction as usual. Their instructor Mr Hwan cleared his throat and she was met with an applause. After a few praises, the next person came up and Jongin still couldn't rip his eyes away.

She was good, he'll give her that. It was pointless to deny her talent, it was just too bad that it was easy to overlook when the arrogant front was all that he could see. That was not what just aggravated him the most though. It was her routine, executed in a whole new degree. Gong Minji was clearly on an advanced level than anyone else in the room and it fired him up.

Fate, however, worked in interesting ways.

Perhaps the calls of his competitiveness was too palpable that even omnipotent forces had sensed it. If destiny tied strings from one person to another, then what tied Jongin to Minji was probably his lust for the crown she held. So when fate decided to intervene, Jongin hadn’t realised it, not until Mr Hwan, their instructor called for him just as the class dispersed.

He had been happy with the idea of not seeing her again for another month, fired up at the idea of improving immensely for the next evaluation where he planned to stun the class yet again.  

Things were already rolling into motion though. He absolutely just had no idea.

His lips thinned into a frown as he approached, spotting another person by Mr Hwan’s side. He rationalised at first. Maybe he was going to be asked to stay back and help clean the studio with her. If so, he was prepared to refuse. 

“Mr Hwan, can you make it quick? I've got a bus to catch.”

“This won’t take long, Jongin, I assure you.”

This should’ve relieved him but he didn’t like the way his teacher made him face Gong Minji herself, who spared him not even a glance his way.

“I have a favour to ask,” their instructor said. “See, an event is coming up for the jazz group. They’re having a special performance so they’ll be practising extra hard for the next several weeks. I’ve looked at the schedules for the rooms, and I have seen that Minji uses one of the rooms that they use for practice.”

The girl listened to the older man with furrowed brows.

“I’m aware that they use it for a specific time before you come for your own individual practice,” he told the girl, “but because of their event, they’ll be clashing with your schedule. I hope you don’t mind but we’re currently prioritising them at the moment—”

“Excuse me, Mr Hwan,” Jongin interrupted, rather impatiently. “But what does this have to do with me?”

“Straight to the point as always, Jongin. Well, you see, Minji has to either move rooms or change her time to another day. I checked the schedules and saw that yours is the closest to her time and the studio you use is almost next door to her previous one. It’s convenient, really. So if you and Minji don’t mind, can you two share?