Soonyoung pushed his already tired limbs to its limits. He repeated the steps again, his eyes critically assessing the fluidity of his movements on the floor-to-ceiling mirror in front of him.

His lips thinned at what he saw.

He stopped halfway through and stared at his reflection. “It’s too awkward,” he grumbled, shaking his head in frustration. He then walked towards the sound system and turned the music off. They have a competition in two months and he wasn’t making any headway on their choreography - even the concept he had in mind seemed off; it’s seriously gritting on his patience.

The dancer huffed and laid down on the floor, exhaustion finally taking over his body. “I better ask the others if they have any ideas,” he tiredly sighed.

He’s the club president and he’s usually the one coming up with their concepts and choregraphies whilst the others would pitch in an idea or two. With the way things are going though, it seems like Soonyoung would have to wear his big boy shorts and ask his juniors for help. He honestly hated that feeling.

It’s not like his juniors were lacking, they’re great dancers and have the passion like Soonyoung has when it came to performing but he rarely asks for their input on the concept making. This is the first time he’s stuck with nothing but jumbled thoughts and half-hearted steps and it’s making the dancer a tad awkward and shy and frustratingly embarrassed. “I’m club president for freaking sake,” he groused, closing his eyes as he tried to rein in his irritation. “I shouldn’t be uninspired like this!”

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