iii.

Chanyeol woke up the next morning with a headache. He hadn’t even drunk anything, but he still felt sick and had a bad taste in his mouth, a side-effect of his night-time medication. When he had the strength to get up, he peeled off last night’s clothes to take a shower, and noticed a lump in the pocket of his shirt — a paper napkin with a ten-digit number scrawled on it in black eyeliner, and underneath the number, Baekhyun and a smudged little smiley face.

Chanyeol left the napkin on top of the dresser in his bedroom, where he walked past it a number of times before it became too much for him, and then he hid it away in the top drawer, buried beneath a pile of underwear. It couldn’t taunt him if he couldn’t see it. He didn’t call the number — he didn’t know what he would say if he did — but he wrestled with the idea of showing up to a ballroom class for the rest of the week. Calling the number would only give off the impression that he was eager, but attending a class… all that meant was that he was interested in learning to dance — and he was genuinely curious about it, which made the idea seem slightly less pathetic.

Should he, shouldn’t he, should he, shouldn’t he… in the end he couldn’t contain his curiosity (it was often his undoing) and so after his last session was finished on the following Tuesday evening, he made his way to Luna’s School of Dance. He questioned himself a thousand times while he walked down a long, dimly-lit corridor, peering inside each door to see if Baekhyun was in there. He felt desperately exhausted, a side-effect of his nerves, and he stopped for a moment, leaning against the wall to collect himself. He wasn’t ready to feel this way; he’d been perfectly content with the small, quiet existence he was leading, at least until a week ago, and why a handsome stranger had to come along and screw it all up was beyond him. But he’d already come this far; to turn around and go home without even trying would only mean defeat, a wasted opportunity. Sighing, Chanyeol dragged his leaden body away from the wall and kept walking.

When he found the right room, he saw groups of people standing around and chatting; others were practising together, spinning their partners around and laughing to themselves whenever they stumbled over. Baekhyun stood to one side of the room with his back to the door, talking to a woman with a bob cut dyed midnight blue. He didn't turn around as Chanyeol entered, and Chanyeol was too shy to go and interrupt their conversation. Feeling conspicuous, he sat down on one of the chairs lined up against the furthest wall from the door, and a girl with long brown hair sat down a few seats away from him. She bent forward to unbuckle her low-heeled dancing shoes, replacing them with plain black flats, and when she was finished she straightened herself and looked at Chanyeol curiously, as though only just noticing him there.

“Hey,” she said, smiling at him. “Are you new here? You look new.”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” Unsure of what else to say, Chanyeol smiled back at her shyly.

“Cool.” The girl tossed her hair back over her shoulders. “It’s rare to see guys wanting to get into ballroom of their own free will, without being dragged along by a partner.” She smiled again. “You’re brave… I like that. Good for you.”

“Baekhyun invited me here, actually.” Chanyeol didn’t know why he was telling her this, but it just came tumbling out. “He said I should come to a class sometime, so… here I am.”

The girl’s dark eyes narrowed slightly; they flickered over at Baekhyun, and then back to Chanyeol again. “Right… I see how it is,” she said, her brows giving the slightest suggestion of a wiggle.

Chanyeol didn’t know how to respond to this. “Well, I mean we only just met, really, but—”

“But you know,” the girl continued, without waiting for Chanyeol to finish, “Baek’s a phenomenal dancer. Get him to show you one of his old competition tapes sometime — he’s retired from competing, and he can be a little shy about his accomplishments, so you might have to twist his arm a little. But seriously, it'll blow you away. The guy practically sizzles on the floor, it’s really something to behold.”

I know, Chanyeol wanted to say, I've seen him. But he kept this to himself.

The girl paused for a moment, looking over at Baekhyun with a thoughtful expression; now he was standing alone in front of the mirrored wall, staring at his own reflection while he stretched. “It’s just a shame,” she said, in a quiet voice — Chanyeol wasn’t sure if she was even still speaking to him, or just talking generally. “He’s still so young, you know. But he has his good days… I guess that’s the main thing keeping him on the floor. The word ‘quit’ doesn’t exist in his vocabulary.”

“Yeah, I know,” Chanyeol said softly, trying to sound like he understood, even though he had no idea what she was talking about. Baekhyun walked over towards them then, having finally noticed Chanyeol’s presence. “Hey… you came!” He seemed genuinely happy about it, too. There it was, that crinkly-nosed, twinkly-eyed smile. Chanyeol was glad he was sitting down, since it made him feel wobbly all over again.

“Well, you got me all curious, so I thought I’d swing by and see what it was all about.” He tried not to cringe at what he’d just said, at how un-casual it sounded, hiding his nerves behind a smile of his own.

Baekhyun nodded towards the brown-haired girl. “I see you’ve been talking to Seulgi… Seulgi teaches swing, which is the class before mine. One of the best swing dancers you'll ever have the privilege to meet.” To Seulgi he said, “this is Chanyeol, another one I managed to reel in. Told you I bring all the boys to the yard, didn’t I..?”

Seulgi laughed. “I need some of that charm to rub off on me,” she said, with a playful swat at Baekhyun’s arm. “Well, I’m off. Enjoy your class, guys.” She stood up, giving Chanyeol a friendly — and knowing — parting glance, before leaving the two of them by themselves.

“I’m really happy you showed up. I was hoping I’d see you again,” Baekhyun said, turning to Chanyeol. He had no make-up on this time, and he looked fresh-faced and healthy. His gaze travelled down to Chanyeol’s shoes. “I see the non-wallflower shoes have made another appearance this evening… nice to see them again, too.”

Chanyeol looked down at his feet; he’d put the boogie shoes on partly because they were the closest thing to dancing shoes he owned, and also because they made him feel more confident — lucky, even, knowing they were part of the reason Baekhyun came and talked to him in the first place. “Yeah, I guess they have,” he said, smiling. “I should probably invest in some proper dancing shoes..”

“Oh, there’s no need for that yet… they’re hideously expensive, anyway.” Baekhyun’s nose scrunched up a little, like he was either thinking really hard or had just smelled something rank. “Forgive me if I got it wrong, but your name is Chanyeol, right..?”

“Right.” Chanyeol smiled. “And you're Baekhyun.”

“Bingo,” Baekhyun said, laughing, “although you were the sober one that night, so you have no excuse not to remember.” He clapped his hands together suddenly, making Chanyeol jump a little. “So. Will we have the pleasure of your company on the floor tonight, or would you prefer to sit back and watch? I recommend the former, of course, but it’s completely up to you.”

Chanyeol hesitated. “Uh… I guess I’ll give it a shot, and see how I go..?” It was odd that the whole thing about him falling asleep at the bar had yet to come up. It was possible th