It was one of those nights again, Bobby staying late to work on a music project due in two days. He couldn’t write down any lyrics in the four hours he’d been sitting there in his rented studio. The words just wouldn’t come into his head, mind blank and exhaustion deepening the bags underneath his eyes. 

He sighed, running a hand through his greasy hair. His phone pinged and he jolted up, not realizing he almost fell asleep where he was sitting. Blinking rapidly, he picked up his phone and looked at the message on his lockscreen. 

__ 

Minho-hyung - Just Now 

Bobby, I know you’re still in the studio! Seunghoon told me he saw you when he passed by your room to go back to his dorms. Go to sleep, you can work on the song later. 

Minho-hyung – Just Now 

If you don’t leave, I’m going there to drag you to bed. I’ll do it, you know I will. I won’t hesitate to tell Seunghoon you’ve been missing out on meals too. 

__ 

Unfortunately, Bobby did know Minho would personally come and force him out from multiple experiences in the past. The combined force of Minho and Seunghoon was a terrifying thing then and even more so now. With a groan, he reluctantly saved his unfinished work and shut off the computer, listening to the whirring fan slowing down to a stop. Sending a message back to Minho, he stood up and stretched, letting out a satisfied sigh when his back cracked.  

“I feel like an old man,” he muttered to himself, picking up his belongings strewn across the room and shoving them into his backpack. With one final glance around to make sure he didn’t leave anything behind, Bobby swung his bag over his shoulders and left, locking the door behind him.  

He walked down the hall at a leisurely pace, taking peace in the stillness of an empty Performing Arts building. Usually, it was bustling with students running around, music vibrating the walls from dancers practicing, and amateur composers knocking on doors to complain that it was their turn in the limited studios.  

Making a turn around the corner, Bobby paused when he saw light filtering in from underneath a dance room door. Cocking his head, he walked closer until he heard classical music playing softly, twisted in a more modern style.  

Who could be in there? Bobby hesitated for a moment, hand coming closer to the door knob, when the music inside abruptly cut off. Frozen in fear and heart stopping, he waited with bated breath like a kid who was about to get caught with their hand in the cookie jar.  

After what seemed like an eternity, the music started again, a slow tempo of piano that smoothly built up to violins coming in at a crescendo and Bobby honestly thought he had never heard something so beautiful. It sounded so bittersweet, like a relationship that slowly lost any passion and the consequences of that.  

He had to see who it was. Bobby reached for the door knob again, carefully turning it until the door opened with a soft click. Nudging it forwards, he made a crack in the frame and pressed in close. Peering into the room, he saw a lithe body moving through moves with a flexibility Bobby could only ever dream of.  

His breath caught. The way the unknown dancer swept around the floor, limbs moving with fluidity and sharpness at the same time, captured him ruthlessly. He was absolutely transfixed by this man.  

Eyes darting to the mirrors, Bobby saw a face filled with serenity. The dancer’s eyes were closed, his lashes long and dark, and his lips were slightly opened, full and red like a ripe cherry. With a strong Roman nose to top it off, Bobby felt like he’d just seen Aphrodite in human form, the epitome of beauty dancing right in front of him.  

His fingers itched to write, inspiration finally coming back to him after the long drought of frustration and feeling lost. He his lips, suddenly far more awake than before with a burning desire to write. Backing away from the door, he reluctantly closed it, body angled to go back to his studio.  

He didn’t even make it one step before his phone vibrated in his pocket. Jolting in shock, Bobby sent a panicked look towards the door and scurried away in case he had been heard.  

Back against the wall, Bobby grimaced when he saw who was calling him. Seunghoon-hyung’s name flashed across the screen, the smiling face of his best friend’s boyfriend causing dread to well up in him.  

He pressed the Accept button and placed the phone to his ear, bracing himself for a lecture. “Hi, Hoony-hyung,” Bobby greeted.  

Silence greeted him, but annoyance practically poured out of the device. “I swear I’m headed back to the dorms,” Bobby hurried to say. An annoyed Seunghoon was only fun when it wasn’t directed at you.  

A sigh. “Jiwon-ah,” Seunghoon’s soothing voice filtered through and he winced. Seunghoon only called Bobby by his real name when he was absolutely serious. “Go to bed and sleep, please. You’ve missed out on meals and your exhaustion keeps getting worse. I’m worried about you.” 

Ouch, right in the gut. Guilt filled Bobby and he looked down, fingers tugging at a loose thread on his jeans. Seunghoon always cared too much about Bobby, to the point where sometimes it felt like the older was his mother in male form. “I will,” he mumbled, thoughts of going back to the studio and ignoring Seunghoon flying out of his mind. “Sorry, hyung.” 

Seunghoon laughed softly and the heavy weight of guilt in Bobby lightened. “Get some rest. Let’s meet up tomorrow, yeah?” Knowing he was being forgiven, Bobby jumped on the chance to further appease his favorite hyung.  

“Yeah!” He said, smile creeping up his face. The thought of the unknown dancer lingered in his head, but with the lightning still tingling in his fingers and the clear mind for music he hadn’t had for a while, Bobby knew his new muse wasn’t leaving anytime soon. With that reassurance, Bobby asked, “At your place after my last class?” 

Seunghoon hummed. “At my place,” he agreed. Tone sharpening again, he reiterated, “To bed, Bob-ah.” 

“Yes, yes,” Bobby replied, already walking towards the entrance with light feet. “I’m going!” 

“Good.” Seunghoon sounded satisfied and Bobby knew he escaped a lecture about his messed-up sleep and food cycle – for now. “Sleep well, my favorite composer.” 

“Don’t let Minho-hyung hear you say that,” Bobby laughed, “you know how pouty he gets.” A mirthful sound came from his friend and he added in before hanging up, “Sleep well, hyung.” 

Tucking his phone back into his pocket, Bobby exited the building and breathed in the fresh air. First on his to-do list for tomorrow, catch up on some much needed sleep. Then, to find out who that mysterious dancer was.