When he sees him for the first time, his first thought is, Holy . Yijeong has never experienced a moment quite like this one. He bows nervously as he is introduced to the beautiful sweaty man who had been practicing in front of the mirror. The man—Song Kyungil, according to his new manager—smiles politely at him as he bows in return and Yijeong thinks it again. Holy .

“This is the newest recruit,” the manager says, gesturing to Yijeong, “take care of him.” Kyungil agrees immediately and Yijeong looks down at his shoes. “Good luck,” his manager tells him, patting him on the shoulder before leaving the practice room to return to his work.

“So, what are you, kid?” Kyungil asks and Yijeong looks back up at him. “Huh?” he replies dumbly. “How did you get cast here?”

“Oh. Oh, I sing. I’m a singer.” Kyungil looks him up and down quickly and it makes him more than a little nervous. “Then what did they send you down here for? The vocal coaches are on the next floor up.”

“I’m a singer, not a dancer. I guess they want me to be both?” He feels stupid, like he must be explaining this too simply, but his brain still isn’t operating at full capacity because Kyungil keeps running his hand through his slightly sweaty hair and looking at him curiously. “I think they thought you could help me. I don’t have much experience. In dancing.” Yijeong fights the urge to roll his eyes at the unnecessary clarification as soon as it leaves his mouth and Kyungil smirks unnervingly. “Well, okay. If they think I can help. But only if you promise to practice dancing twice as hard as you do singing. Actually, make that three times as hard. Deal?” He sticks out his hand to Yijeong, who takes a breath before stretching his own hand out in return. “Deal,” he says softly as he shakes Kyungil’s hand, avoiding his eyes. “Let’s get started then?” Kyungil pulls his hand back and walks over to the stereo to select a song.

“I’ll teach you the first routine I ever choreographed. I’ll show you first and then walk you through it. Just follow me. Do you think you can you handle that?” Yijeong nods and takes a spot in front of the mirror. Kyungil starts the song and demonstrates the routine next to him. Yijeong tries to pay attention to the moves so that he can try to recreate them but eventually, he gets caught up in Kyungil’s fluid movements. Before he knows it, the song ends and Kyungil stops dancing. “Wow,” he breathes, clapping enthusiastically for a few seconds. “I think I know why they assigned you to teach me.”

“It’s a pretty simple routine,” he replies, but Yijeong shakes his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever be half as good at this as you are.”

“You will be when I’m done with you,” Kyungil assures him and Yijeong’s heart rate quickens. “We’ll take it slow. One move at a time.” Yijeong swallows hard, staring at his own reflection in the mirror. “I’ll do my best,” he mutters, faking confidence poorly. “I’m sure you will. Now, follow after me.”

Yijeong spends the next hour trying as hard as he can to follow Kyungil’s dance moves and remember the choreography, but it’s even harder than he’d expected and all of his movements look too sharp compared to Kyungil’s beautiful, fluid ones. Kyungil glances at the clock on the wall and claps his hands together. “Alright, I think that’s all the time we have for today. I have my own lessons to get to, you know.” Yijeong bows quickly. “Right, of course. Thank you for your help.”

“When’s your next class?” Kyungil asks him as he walks across the room to get a drink. “About half an hour.” Kyungil returns and hands Yijeong a water bottle. “Then, take a quick break and keep practicing. I’ll pull up the video so you can review the parts you’ve forgotten.” Yijeong sits down on the floor and opens his water bottle. Kyungil leaves for a moment and returns with a tablet. “Take this and practice, okay? Don’t just sit here until your next class.” He sets the tablet down next to Yijeong and Yijeong looks up at him. “I’ll practice. You should know, I’m a very hard worker.” A little too hardworking, if you ask his friends, but if sleeping less means finding success and reaching his goals, then Yijeong’s planning on finding out just how little sleep a human being can survive on.

“I guess I’ll find out when you show me your progress tomorrow. Same time?” Yijeong nods. “Same time.” Kyungil smiles briefly before he leaves the room and Yijeong takes another sip of water before turning his attention to the video of Kyungil dancing on the tablet.

He’d like to say that he didn’t watch the video any more than necessary. He’d like to say that he only sent the video to his own phone so that he could practice on his own later, but that would be a lie and he tries not to lie to himself. The truth is that he’ll probably have this dance burned into his brain by the time he leaves the company tonight. The truth is that he thinks this video might remind him why he’s here away from his family and his friends and his fairly normal sleep schedule chasing his dreams. The truth is that he thinks someone something this beautiful should be appreciated more than once or twice.

(The truth is that he’s already totally screwed.)

It’s after 10 o’clock when Yijeong’s manager comes to get him from one of the practice rooms and tells him it’s time to go to the dorm. He’s nervous about living with a bunch of strangers but when they arrive, he finds a familiar face.

“Are you staying in this dorm too?” Yijeong asks and Kyungil smiles. “Of course, this is where they put all of the most promising trainees,” he jokes. “I can show you to your room.” Yijeong carries his bag down the hallway and follows Kyungil to his room. It’s small, consisting of a set of bunkbeds, a narrow closet and not much else. “The top bunk’s taken, you’ll have to use the bottom one,” Kyungil tells him as he sets his things down. “You probably won’t see much of your roommate, though. He hardly leaves the practice rooms these days, he must think he’s on the cusp of a breakthrough or something.”

“Why are you back here so early?” Yijeong asks plainly. “Didn’t you see me dance earlier? Did it seem like I need to live in front of those mirrors?” Yijeong corrects himself quickly. “That’s not what I meant, I was just wondering.”

“I work just as hard as everyone else here, but I also know the benefits of a break. I’ve been training since before you and the other kids here even thought of dreaming of something like this.” Yijeong stands up and bows respectfully. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I’ll watch what I say in the future.” Kyungil eyes him for a moment before relaxing. “I shouldn’t snap at you. You just got here, you must have lots of questions. Get some rest, you’re going to need it tomorrow.” Yijeong nods.

“The bathroom is at the end of the hall, but there’s a five minute limit on showers so remember that. If you have other questions, my room is right across the hall. The manager’s room is next to the bathroom. There is a van to take us to the company, but only if you’re inside before 6:30am. Otherwise, you have to find your own way there.” Kyungil walks to the doorway and pauses for a moment. “Good night, Yijeong,” he says. “Good night,” Yijeong responds as Kyungil closes the door behind him.

After unpacking and brushing his teeth, Yijeong goes to bed at a reasonable time. He doesn’t fall asleep right away, choosing instead to distract himself from his nervousness by watching Kyungil’s choreography again, and again, and again until he finally falls asleep.

Yijeong is on his third cup of coffee by the time he arrives at the dance practice room the next day. Kyungil is already there, working up a sweat with a couple other trainees. Yijeong sits down against the wall and watches them finish up the rest of their practice. Their skills are impressive and Yijeong doubts he’ll ever come close to their level, even with all of the practice in the world. He suddenly wonders if they can all sing too.

The trainees finish their practice with high-fives before they notice him sitting near the door. They greet him briefly before moving on to their next classes. Yijeong stands up and Kyungil dries his hair with a towel roughly. “Good morning,” Yijeong greets him, handing him a water bottle. “Show me how far you got after I left,” he says curtly. “Oh. Okay.” Yijeong takes a spot in front of the mirror and Kyungil cues up the song. Yijeong takes a deep breath before attempting to imitate the choreography. He manages to remember most of the moves, but he knows they look nothing like the way they’re supposed to. The song ends and he puts his head down in defeat. Kyungil nods thoughtfully and steps closer to him.

“Not horrible. You’ve memorized most of it, but... your technique could use some work.” Probably because I don’t have any technique, Yijeong thinks. “Like the second move, do that one again.” Yijeong follows his instructions, attempt to move his legs and left arm the way he’d seen Kyungil do dozens of times in the video, but it hardly even looks like the same move in the mirror. He’s worried that Kyungil will snap at him, accuse him of not being serious enough, of not working hard enough. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been snapped at by a dance instructor. Kyungil steps in between Yijeong and the mirror, facing him, and for a second Yijeong thinks he might be the type of teacher who uses physical violence for emphasis. He actually flinches when Kyungil puts a hand on his arm to demonstrate the move and Kyungil lets him go. “Sorry?” Kyungil says like he’s not sure if he should feel apologetic or not. “Sorry,” Yijeong mutters, feeling embarrassed at his overreaction, “go ahead.”

“Your moves are way too choppy for a routine like this. Each movement needs to connect to the next seamlessly. Like this...” Kyungil holds onto Yijeong’s arm and tries to help him, but Yijeong is distracted and trying to regain his focus. He was sure he was about to get hit and now he’s not sure what’s happening. “Okay,” Kyungil says as he releases Yijeong’s arm, “now show me again.”

Yijeong repeats the move to the best of his ability, staring himself down in the mirror and willing his body to cooperate. “Better,” Kyungil says, tapping the outside of Yijeong’s thigh, “turn your leg out a little more. Go again.” Kyungil watches thoughtfully as Yijeong continues to follow his instructions. “It’s getting there, kid, but you’ve got to loosen up. It’ll never look right if you keep tensing up your muscles.”

“I’ll work harder,” Yijeong says reflexively and Kyungil turns the music back on. “Let’s move on to the next moves.”

Dance practice continues for the next hour as Kyungil corrects Yijeong’s form and helps him memorize the rest of the moves. Yijeong’s muscles are sore and he collapses on the floor with his water bottle in hand at the first chance to do so without getting in trouble. Kyungil tosses him a towel and sits down next to him.

“So, what’s your story?” he asks. “My story?” Yijeong asks, still breathing a little too hard. “Yeah, your story. Every trainee’s got one.” Kyungil takes a swig of water and sets the bottle back down. “I trained for a year at another company before I ended up here. That company didn’t put so much emphasis on dancing, so... that’s why I still at it.”

“Why did you leave?” Kyungil asks, and Yijeong thinks he seems genuinely curious. “Too many debuts while I was there, I figured I’d never debut unless I tried a different company. I passed the audition here and... that’s the whole story.” Yijeong dries his face with the towel, annoyed to find that he’s still sweating. “Can I ask what your story is?”

“Three companies, nine years, two failed debuts. Thousands of hours of dance and singing practice. Now, apparently, they think of me more like a teacher than a trainee here so maybe it’s time to find a new place. Or... quit.” Kyungil’s voice sounds unaffected, like he’s not telling his own story, but Yijeong feels bad for him and even worse for feeling like his own story was kind of depressing. “You’re an amazing dancer, though,” he says without thinking and looks away in embarrassment. “I guess that’s not the only thing they’re looking for.” Yijeong nods slowly. “So, if you’ve been training for a year, you’re... 16, 17?”

“20, actually. I got a late start. You?” Kyungil stands up and runs his hands through his hair. “26. Are you really 20? You don’t exactly... look it.” Yijeong stands up, his muscles aching in protest. “I get that a lot.”

“Well, I’ve got vocal training upstairs so keep practicing until your next lesson. And loosen up, seriously.” Kyungil smiles before leaving the room and Yijeong sits back down on the floor. It’s not my fault I can’t relax when you’re around, Yijeong complains internally. Why couldn’t they find me an average-looking teacher?

Yijeong continues to practice diligently even when he’s alone, determined to impress Kyungil with his dedication. Over the past 9 years, Yijeong’s sure that Kyungil had seen lots of trainees come and go because they couldn’t make the cut or underestimated the effort required to debut and he’s intent on showing Kyungil everyone that he’s not one of those trainees, that he’s serious about all of this.

When he finally gets back to the dorm at nearly midnight, he’s exhausted and hardly changes out of his clothes before he passes out, not even hearing when his roommate comes in around 2am.

히스토리

After practicing with Kyungil for a couple of weeks, he tells Yijeong, “You should come and work out with me at the gym. I think it would help with your coordination.” Yijeong sighs. “Are you saying I’m out of shape?” Kyungil stretches his arms casually. “Nah, I just think it might help. It’s not a company requirement. You can just keep practicing here all day if you want.”

“No, if you think it would help... I’ll do anything.”

So, that’s how Yijeong ends up on a bus with Kyungil, headed to the gym.

When they walk in, Kyungil is immediately in his element, trading greetings with the employees and fellow patrons of the gym that he has no doubt been frequenting for years. Yijeong, on the other hand, feels like a fish out of water, or a tiny sardine in a sea of sharks. He feels uncomfortable and regretful that he didn’t turn down Kyungil’s advice.

“Where do you want to start?” Kyungil asks him and he shrugs nervously. “Stretching?” he suggests and Kyungil laughs heartily. “I meant after that, but sure. It’s a good start.”

“If you hadn’t noticed, this isn’t really my thing. Aside from like... things I did in P.E. class... I don’t know much.” Kyungil grins. “I’ll just have to teach you that too, I guess.”

After stretching for a few minutes, they move on to treadmills. To warm up, or something. Kyungil works up to a run rather quickly, while Yijeong eventually starts to jog. He’s tired after fifteen minutes as they’d already spent time practicing dance earlier, but Kyungil keeps moving him to more intensive steps, making him do push-ups and other exercises that were certainly designed by the Devil himself.

Yijeong’s feeling ready to pass out by the time they get to the next step: sit-ups. He’s exhausted and distracted by Kyungil looking directly at him as he attempts to sit up, again and again and again. He feels sick from the exertion and dizzy from the eye contact, and eventually he doesn’t sit back up, he stays down on the ground and closes his eyes.

“I need to stop,” he pants, “I feel sick.” He’s not sure what Kyungil’s reaction will be, but soon he feels him lay down next to him on the mat. “Breaks are important too,” he says. “Do you really... find this fun?” Kyungil chuckles. “Not at first. Now it’s like I’m addicted or something.”

“Well, it’s obviously working,” Yijeong says without thinking. “Oh yeah? You think so?” Kyungil teases him and Yijeong starts to think of a way to defend himself, but he still feels too sick so he doesn’t protest. “Don’t pretend you don’t know. Everyone knows. It’s obvious.”

“Wanna spot me while I lift weights?” Kyungil asks after a moment of silence. Yijeong opens his eyes slowly. “That sounds like a lot more fun than this.” Kyungil stands quickly and holds out a hand to him. Yijeong accepts after a couple of seconds and lets Kyungil carefully help him to his feet.

He still feels kind of sick from working out but the nausea mixes with an almost pleasant fluttery feeling as he watches Kyungil lift weights from above and decides that the gym might not be the worst place after all.

After following Kyungil around and ‘helping’ for an hour or so, they both stretch for a few minutes to finish the workout before Kyungil says, “I’m gonna rinse off and then we can head out. Do you want to grab a shower too?” Yijeong feels his face turning red at the thought. Sure, people shower together at the dorm sometimes, but he’d never done it with Kyungil. Both because he’d never had the opportunity and because it just seemed... different. “No, I didn’t really sweat much,” he replies, “I’ll just change and wait for you.” Kyungil turns toward the locker room and Yijeong feels like an idiot for getting flustered at the thought of his fellow trainee/dance teacher . It’s ‘cause he’s inhumanly attractive, he tells himself. Anyone would be flustered by someone like him. 

It's not a lie, but he's not thinking it as just 'anyone' either. Or maybe he’s just flattering himself by thinking he’s different.

Either way, he still feels guilty.

Fifteen minutes later, Yijeong follows Kyungil out of the gym and into the chicken restaurant down the street. “Do you usually eat fried food after working out?” Yijeong asks as they slide into opposite booths to wait for their order. “No, of course not. This is just because I feel like a .” Yijeong raises his eyebrows in confusion. “What? Why?”

“I got carried away earlier. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard after practice.” Yijeong shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry for being so weak. I’m even too scrawny for dancing but you still have to teach me anyway. I’ll work harder.” Kyungil shrugs casually. “Being scrawny isn’t such a bad thing. It works for you.” Yijeong starts to ask what he means by that but Kyungil continues quickly, “I mean, you’re still young. And it’s not a bad thing. For dancing, I mean. Sometimes I make routines look too powerful for the music.”

“I’ve never noticed that. Your dancing is always... perfect.” Kyungil waves off the compliment. “No, I’ve just learned what I can make look good and what I can’t.” Yijeong thinks he’s been too humble, but he should probably take a break from excessively complimenting Kyungil for a while. “If you say so,” he concedes before smirking. “So, do you moonlight as a personal trainer or something? Or is that your real dream and being in a band is just a backup plan?” Kyungil chuckles lightly. “I always go to the gym alone. I think I was excited to have a friend with me. Too excited, I’m sorry.”

Yijeong might feel a little annoyed with him for borderline torturing him earlier if it weren’t for the fact that his brain is stuck on this being the first time Kyungil’s ever referred to him as his friend. Normally, he just resorted to calling him ‘kid’ or ‘newbie’, or something else to keep him in his place. To keep him from confusing Kyungil’s concern with his training for something different. Something... more.

“I had fun, though. Although the eating chicken part is more exciting...” Yijeong smiles softly as he continues. “Thank you for helping me.” Their number is called and Kyungil gets up to grab the tray and brings it back to the table. Yijeong mutters a quick, “Thank you,” before digging in.

They don’t talk much as they’re both busy stuffing their faces. Yijeong hasn’t been this hungry in a while and he hardly stops eating to breathe or take a sip of his soda. He doesn’t slow down until his stomach starts to hurt again.

Kyungil leans back in the booth and watches Yijeong as he eats much too quickly. Eventually, he starts to feel self-conscious and stops eating, sitting up straight and resting his hands in his lap. “You finished?” Yijeong nods. “Yeah, I’m done.”

“You sure? You seemed like you’ve been starving for weeks.” Yijeong feels a little embarrassed, looking down at the table. “Thank you for buying me food,” he says, skirting the issue. “Do you want to walk back to the dorms instead of taking the bus? It’s not far unless you’re still feeling sick.” Yijeong shakes his head. “No, that sounds great.”

Maybe it sounded a little too great because he starts to feel nauseous and fluttery again as they walk down the street quietly. “Are you sure you’re feeling better?” Yijeong can’t really believe he’s still concerned about him, that he still feels guilty for pushing him too hard. “I’m fine, please stop asking. It’s embarrassing.”

“Then what would you rather talk about?” Kyungil asks, not slowing his pace at all. “I don’t know, do you have a favorite movie?” He shrugs. “I watch a lot of movies when I have free time, but I don’t think I can pick a favorite. I like a lot of foreign movies though.” Yijeong nods. “Me too. Action movies, mostly.”

“We should go to a movie sometime then.” Yijeong swallows hard and tries not misunderstand the intention behind those words. “That would be fun,” he says, trying not to sound affected. “Probably more fun than the gym.” Yijeong chuckles sheepishly. “Yeah, sorry.” They continue to walk to the dorm at a comfortable pace. It takes about twenty minutes before they can see the dorm building across the street from them.

“I hope I didn’t turn you off of the gym forever,” Kyungil says. “Not forever. But definitely for today.” He laughs and Yijeong smiles shyly as the near the door to their housing. “Well, let me know if you ever feel like trying again. I work out four times a week.”

“I’ll let you know,” Yijeong tells him softly as they walk into the dorm.