The next day came with a patch of cloudy sky. Winter shrugged on a woollen grey sweater and a pair of training pants and stepped out of her room. It was obvious from the moment she scanned the house that the boy was no longer there. The apartment had an emptiness to it that was different from the cosiness that she had felt yesterday. Winter took a short glimpse of the ajar door that led to the boy’s room before putting on her shoes and going out of the house.

            Not unexpectedly, Room 4-3 was buzzing with music and a huge group of dancers were matching to its beat when Winter entered it. She inched into the corner of the room, hoping to blend into the shadows. She sighed inwardly, knowing that she needed to be more confident, more daring to crawl out of her hole. A stronger Winter would have initiated to learn with them, falling in step with the others; that’s how she could overcome her complex. But the real, stubborn Winter stayed rooted to the spot, her unwillingness to be noticed sticking her back to the wall.

            “Alright, let’s switch it up!” someone was saying. The music had ended and was about to repeat again, signalling for a change of dancers to the same song. “Who wants to go next? We can replay it one more time after this so everyone gets a chance.”

            A good seven or eight people stood up from their seats near the walls, six of them from the same corner that Winter was hiding at. They left a hole in their presence, leaving the space around Winter completely empty. A nervous pulse began to beat at the side of Winter’s throat and she pushed herself closer to the wall if possible, as if she could completely flatten herself and blend in with the white paint.

            “…eight, nine… we need one more person. Anyone wants to volunteer?” the same person was saying. His gaze swept the room once, twice, and landed on Winter on the third time. “Hey you,” his voice travelled, much to Winter’s horror, in her direction. “You’re new right? Why don’t you give it a try?”

            Winter swallowed against her suddenly dry throat. Alright Winter, she tried to self-meditate as she moved her legs that felt like they were being dragged through cement, this is your first step in overcoming your problem. Take a deep breath—

            “Isn’t she the one with the people problem?” sounded someone with bright green hair, her voice loud and clear, as if she were announcing it to the whole world. Her tone was insistent. “She wanted to use the entire practice room for herself yesterday.”

            “T-that—“ Winter tried to say, but here and there people started to murmur in low voices that grew louder and louder. Soon it reached a deafening stage where some words were too clear not to be heard. Winter caught words like ‘ridiculous’; ‘Who does she think she is?’; ‘Royal syndrome’ in the wave of sounds and murmurs that sounded from the crowd. She looked at the guy that had called on her, but he only looked at a loss for words. Mortified, Winter buried her face in her hands, knowing that she had earned herself another obstacle on top of Shin Ah and her own complex.

            Lunch time came as a relief for Winter and she literally bolted through the door of Room 4-3, being the first one to do so. Wanting to break away from her dancer group as fast as possible, she hurried past the set of elevators and took the stairs instead. She regretted her choice instantly as she climbed six flights of stairs to the 10th level, where she was told the General Canteen was located. She placed a hand on the wall to steady herself and her racing heart when she arrived at the canteen. Already her fellow dancers, who had cleverly chosen to ride the lift, had filled into the area and were queueing up to get their food with their food trays. Winter joined the back of the queue with jelly legs, scolding herself for making stupid mistakes. When her tray was abundantly filled with mouth-w