(NOTE: It would be better if you play the same song Dean plays at some point in this chapter.... ^__^ You're welcome. lol)

Chahye was finding the new choreography hard. It was still going to be her as the lead female dancer. She couldn't understand if it was fate or if everyone else just didn't want to be paired with Dean. It was already 10pm and she was left alone at the studio, music playing repeatedly and her practicing the steps all over. She hasn't even had dinner yet and she was starting to feel her limbs lose balance.

"Just 30 more minutes," she thought as she looked at herself through the mirrored wall.

Unknowingly, a pair of eyes have been watching her for more than an hour now, a smile reflected brightly from the lips on his face. He leaned on the door and watched her. She was always hardworking. She was always trying to improve herself and she does, each and every day that passes. He was scared to approach her so willingly as her exterior was fine and serious; no room for kidding around. He has never seen her other than inside the four walls of their studio and the curiosity is getting the best of him. Maybe he should. Maybe not.

Hands on her waist, Chahye turned around and did the part where she was supposed to push Dean onto the chair, Eunji doing the same on the left side. She brushed her hair away from her face, backwards. Her eyes caught a glimpse of someone from the door smiling back at her. He raised a thumbs up at her and she couldn't respond. It was already deep into the night. Why was he still there?

She heard the knob click and she had to take a step back as he stepped inside.

"Yo!" Dean greeted. She only smiled and gave a slight bow. "Working hard eh? Can I come join you?" he asked.
"Shouldn't you be somewhere else?" asked Chahye.
Dean wanted to smile at her question, always up front and frank with him. "Well, I just went back to my studio because I forgot a flash drive. I saw the lights still on and saw you still practicing," he explained. "Do you need help somewhere?"
"No. I'm fine," she answered turning away from him.
"Then why are you still here? I thought you already got the choreography earlier?" asked Dean following her slowly, careful not to invade her space.
"I'm just... Getting used to it. We still have another song to do tomorrow," said Chahye.
"How old are you, Chahye-ssi?" asked Dean.
"Huh?! I'm... I'm 23. 1993. Why did you ask?" she said.
"The way you speak to me... It's... Cool but I'm relatively older than you by months," he said with a smile.
"Does it bother you? Should I call you Dean-nim or something?" asked Chahye sincerely, unaware that he felt uneasy.
"No. I'm fine with just Dean. Makes me feel like we're friends," smiled Dean, a hand on his chest.
"We're not friends," said Chahye frankly.
"Then I declare that today we start being friends," he said proudly. "Call me Hyuk."
"I won't," she said. 
"How come?" pouted Dean.
"Because you're technically my boss," she said with no evident emotion.

Dean just hiked his shoulders and walked around the floor as Chahye watched herself dance. He wanted to stare at her but that would only invite awkwardness. He whistled the tune to "Foreign" as he approached the music player at the front corner. There was a phone connected to it, the source of the music being looped. "Is this your phone?" he asked. Chahye hummed her yes.

He squatted down to look at the phone. No password. Just the typical slide-to-unlock system. "I guess she doesn't have anything to hide," he thought. The music player popped out on the screen and "Pour Up" was being played. He looked through the playlist. It was his songs in it.

"I hope you don't mind because I downloaded those illegally. For practice," said Chahye.
Dean looked back at her with a smile. "Nah. It's fine. You have a good reason anyway. I might need to give you a copy of my new songs some day. You'll love them," he said going back to her phone. "I like your wallpaper, by the way. Did you edit this?"
"Huh?!" said Chahye not sure of what he meant.
"Your phone's wallpaper? All black with 'Zico', 'Taewoon' and 'family' written in white. Are you a fan of those brothers?" he asked.
"Oh... Right. Uhm... Yeah. I like them," she lied.
"I know them. They're both cool, those brothers," said Dean. "You already practiced 'Put My Hands On You', right?"
"Yeah. We did the verses earlier," said Chahye.

Dean clicked play and stood up, a smirk on his face. He turned around to approach Chahye who was doing the first steps of the song. "Can we practice together?" he asked. "This is the first time I'm going to perform this with a dancer and I'm not used to it as well." Chahye didn't answer but put her hands out to him to reach. He took it as a yes.

The first verse was just Dean singing in the center alone. Chahye stood at the side first and watched him. As the chorus started, she walked in front, a hand on his shoulder, turning as she reached his left side and faced front, Dean standing close behind her. He slid a hand from her back to her waist to her belly, singing along. They've been doing numerous couple dances that Chahye has gotten more used to his touch. He never felt invasive; just the right amount of respect and tease.

But "Put My Hands On You" was a more y and engaging dance, not to mention the suggestive lyrics which Dean happily sings along to near her ear. She would try not to listen to him and on the song instead. But that was obviously hard.

By the second verse, Chahye was supposed to stand with 2 other dancers, herself in the middle with Dean walking around, engaging stares with her occasionally. Since it was just them, Dean had the happy favor of having her stare at him all the time.

By the verse Anderson.Paak was supposed to sing, dancers have stood at the side to give way. And since it was just them, Dean grabbed her arm to stay and dance with him. He was doing too much freestyle that Chahye had to adjust what she just learned from the choreography early that day. That should be a good thing but Chahye was calculating too much in her head and him looking at her wasn't helping at all. Most of what he did included holding her hand, moving his fingers from her cheek down to her jaw finally placing it on her lips.

"Be natural," she kept on saying to herself, already becoming a mantra as she tried to relax her breathing.

At the last chorus, Dean didn't do the choreography anymore and instead grabbed her waist from behind and pulled her close to him. She just swayed to the music unable to do anything more, feeling how tight Dean's arm was holding onto her, his right hand acting as if he was holding a microphone. Dean dropped his chin to her shoulder when he felt her hips grind onto him from left to right. "That was a first," he thought, engraving a smirk onto his lips. He was enjoying this too much.

But Chahye grabbed his hand and lifted it, twirling in place until she was facing him. He thought she'd walk away but eventually smiled wide as he saw her moves. She put an arm around his neck and leaned close to him, her other hand placed carefully on his chest. Dean was still singing as the song faded away, a hand rolled to a fist close to his mouth. His other hand held her waist and Chahye had to look down, preparing herself with what she thought he would do.

But Dean just put his hand there. He quickly placed a quick peck on her cheek as she looked down. Instinctively, Chahye pushed him away, putting a hand on her cheek.

"That was better than earlier today, Chahye-ssi," he said with a wide smile.
"Th-thanks," she stuttered to answer.
"Maybe we should lose all the other dancers during this song. What do you think?" asked Dean as he stretched his arms up.
"No!" she reacted. Dean had to look at her in surprise. "I mean... You can't do that... If you're not going to perform with the band," she tried to explain.
"Band?"
"Yeah. The plan was to dance with everyone. But with a band, you have to cut all the other dancers because there won't be enough space on stage with the band and everyone else. And the band wasn't a choice."
"You know... You're right. I could just ask it to be a live band performance. Me, the band and you."

Dean gave her a smile she didn't like to see. It gave her shivers down her spine. He spun around and walked towards the player, taking her phone and disconnecting it from the speakers. She approached her and gave her phone back to her. "Come on. Let's go," he said.

"Huh?!" said Chahye as she took her phone from him.
"I said. Let's go. Let's leave," he said.
"But..." Chahye tried to protest.
"I now declare this practice over. We can now both go home. Understand?" said Dean sternly.
"I...I...I didn't plan to go home yet. Sorry," she said.
"Okay. All right," said Dean raising his hands above his head. "If you don't want to go home yet, fine. Don't. But I want you to come with me," he said.
"What?! Where are you taking me?!" said Chahye stepping back.
"I'm going to take you out to eat," he said reaching for her arm, holding it up at a level both of them could see, his hand around her wrist. "When I first saw you in this studio, you had full cheeks. But look at you now. You're getting thinner everyday. And your arms are getting skinny," he said.
"I'm fine," she said getting herself free of his hold.
"No, you aren't," said Dean seriously. "I'm your partner, Chahye. I hold you ever so often to realize that you really have lost weight. So, please. Come with me and eat. I haven't had dinner yet, too," he said taking her arm again.
But Chahye didn't move, didn't look at him. "Let me go changed at least," she said.

Dean let her go change. He sat on the bench beside her bag, making sure she'll come back and not run away from him. From a lose shirt and leggings she uses during practice, she now was in a pink tank top over gray jeans and sneakers, her hair tied up to a bun. She looked beautiful. The top she wore accentuated her curves more, revealing a bit of skin as she raised her arms.

He stood up and cleared his throat as he walked over to the door, trying to forget the visions he has about Chahye in his head. He was hit and he knew it. "I hope you're gonna wear a jacket or something because I know I won't survive the cold in your shirt. Come on," he said. Chahye looked one last time at him before grabbing her jacket off the bench and putting it on, eventually carrying her bag behind her and out the door. Dean took one last look inside before switching the lights off and closing the door.