“Come on already.” You growled in frustration as you misstepped once again. Hours had come and gone as you repeatedly worked on the stupid choreography of the stupid song you regret ever being a part of.  What was supposed to be a small guest vocal part in your boyfriend’s group’s song had turned into a huge success and for an upcoming show, you had been asked to perform the song along with the group - choreography and all. Problem is, you were never and will never be a dancer. Your two left feet would make a newborn giraffe learning to stand look elegant and graceful.

Always the people pleaser, you wanted nothing more than to perfect the damn dance not only to save yourself from the ultimate embarrassment of messing up in front of thousands of people but also to do well for your boyfriend. Afterall, how could one of the main dancers in the group be with a girl that moved like a penguin having a seizure as soon as you tried to move to the beat? Not to mention the boys had worked so hard on this comeback. The song was amazing and had been received incredibly well not only by fans but the general public as well - domestic and international. It was seeming like they were finally getting the attention they deserved… and you were going to ruin it by tripping over yourself during the performance.
You could see it now. The song and the boys’ perfect performance would be completely shadowed with your up. You’d become a meme and the laughing stock of the fandom while fueling the haters with more ammo to add to their hurtful comments online. Hell, with your luck you’d probably end up smacking one of the member’s in the face with a flailing arm and break his nose or something like that. There was just so much that could go wrong, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get this dance right.

“Jagiya,” a soft voice sighed. You hadn’t even been aware that you were crying, not to mention no longer alone, until you felt the pad of his thumb brush away one of the tears making a run for it down your cheek. “Overworking yourself is going to do more harm than good,” he cooed as his eyes wandered over the array of bruises that covered your legs. “Why didn’t you tell me you were having such a hard time?” His eyes raised to yours, the love and concern shone so clearly that it pulled another sob from you. This man cared so much for you and you were going to let him down.

Immediately, his arms wrapped around you and pulled you to him, letting you cry yourself out as you sat together in the middle of the dance studio floor. He hated to see you like this and hated even more that he had let it get to this point. It hadn’t been lost on him that you were having a hard time with the dance. He had seen how frustrated you got each time you made a mistake during group practices, but he hadn’t realized how much harder you were being on yourself when he and the others weren’t around. Each tear that fell made him feel all the more protective and regretful about talking you into joining the group on stage when you had been pretty clear about how uncomfortable that idea had made you in the first place. At the time, he could only think about how exciting it would be to get to perform with you on stage and share the exhilaration of receiving the cheers from the crowd and feeling that rush of excitement and pride over others enjoying something you had worked hard to create for them. But what he hadn’t anticipated was watching you stress yourself out and beat yourself up over it. He hadn’t stopped to think that the stage isn’t for everyone and this would be such a burden to you.

Before he even had the chance to speak, you pulled from him and shook your head, knowing exactly where that little sigh he gave was leading to. “No. I said I would do it. I want to do it,” you stated, blinking away the tears as you forced yourself to meet his eyes to show him how determined you were to keep your word about doing this with him. You watch the conflict in his eyes as he stared back at you. “I’ll be fine. I’ll get it right.”

Jongup shook his head and wiped away the moisture from your other cheek.  He gave you a half-hearted sideways smirk at the way you had heard him without a single word uttered. “I know you will, but that’s not the point.” Cupping your face in his hands, a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips.  Even in the moment, he couldn’t fight the amusement he got from seeing how small your face looked between his hands. “The choreography isn’t set in stone, we can change some things to make it easier for you. And you just happen to know a guy that would be more than happy to spend some time dancing with you and helping you, Pabo.” 

His grin widened as your tears dried up and a small smile peaked through. You loved how well he knew you and that he didn’t even consider suggesting you back out of the performance. He knew you didn’t want to give up, didn’t want to let him or the group down, didn’t want to forever feel ashamed with yourself for backing out on something so big not only for yourself but for people that meant so much to you. And you truly did want to do this. You wanted to prove to yourself that you could do it. He saw all of that clearly and knew the best thing wouldn’t be to talk you out of it but to help and support you in preparing for the show.

After laying a quick kiss on your forehead, your boyfriend pulled from you and stood up. Momentarily, his sudden actions confused you until he held a hand out to you and smiled. “We’ll work on it tomorrow, but now it’s time to go home and get some rest.” Smiling back at him you nodded and placed your hand in his, letting him help you to your feet. You giggled as he pulled you against himself and wrapped his arms around you. “But next time let me know when you’re having a hard time so it won’t take me so long to figure it out.” He looked down at you with a playfully stern face.
Grinning back at him, you nodded before leaning up to steal a kiss.

There were simply no words to describe how grateful you were to have Jongup by your side. You felt silly for not speaking up before and letting yourself get as stressed as you had. But in the long run, the massage and babying you received that night totally made it worth it. And he did indeed work with the group and choreographer to smooth over some of the moves you were having the most difficulty with. It truly all paid off in the end. The performance was just as perfect and successful as the group could have hoped for and you got to feel the pride and excitement of being a part of it.
Two left feet? What two left feet?