A month later, Eunbi hasn’t stopped the ‘shoe squeaking and jumping around at 4 a.m.,’ as Chaeyeon had dubbed it. But it’s not like Chaeyeon had stopped playing her K-pop songs at 3 a.m. either. 

But they both dealt with it. Somehow, the annoying habits of their neighbors weren’t as annoying anymore. Eunbi might even call it endearing, though she’d never let Chaeyeon know that, and she would never admit that some of her neighbor’s songs were actually nice to listen to.

They’ve done the whole talking through the partition a few times a week for the last month. At first Eunbi thought she’s probably crazy because, obviously, she’s talking to a stranger—hell, she still doesn’t even know what Chaeyeon looks like. But then, she thought, wasn’t that the best part? Anonymity often makes people more honest; that feeling of not being judged for what she was saying. Not to mention, her neighbor was incredibly understanding. Chaeyeon didn’t pry, and didn’t expect Eunbi to reciprocate if she didn’t want to. There were no expectations, and also no disappointment. It was something Eunbi hadn’t felt for awhile. So, maybe… just for a little longer, she’d like to keep it that way.

Talking to Chaeyeon has really become the highlight of her day, and Eunbi was anxious to get home from work, especially after the last week of sitting alone on the balcony. Exactly 5 days ago, Chaeyeon had informed her she was leaving for a business trip, and they had said goodbye to each other. Supposedly tonight was when Chaeyeon was coming back, and suffice to say, Eunbi was eager to talk to her neighbor again.

If only work would end.

It was 6.43 p.m, and Eunbi had finished everything she needed to do today. She taught all the classes in the dance studio, double checked every schedule, twice, had dinner, and even choreographed a whole new dance routine for her beginner class coming in the day after tomorrow. But 7 p.m. really couldn’t come sooner.

Of course, seeing as Eunbi owned the dance studio she could just leave early, but she didn’t want to abuse her power or set a bad example for her colleagues Yujin and Hitomi. 

Suddenly, the landline on her desk rang.

“Woollim Dance Studio. This is Kwon Eunbi speaking, how may I help you?”

“Hi, this is CEO Kim from WM Entertainment, do you remember me?”

Eunbi froze, but it was better that because her other instinct was to throw away the phone. When the caller repeatedly checks to see if the line was still connected, Eunbi finally speaks again, “Why are you calling?”

“Have you ever heard of WMG?”

Eunbi rolls her eyes. “Of course. What do they have to do with this call?”

“They’re having a comeback soon, and their concept is slightly… experimental. It’s not quite the typical K-pop color, more girl crush, not too different—“

Resisting an exasperated sigh, Eunbi cuts him off instead, “Just get to the point, CEO Kim.” 

“I heard you own a dance studio now. Very popular, too. I would like you to choreograph for WMG’s comeback title.”

“Absolutely not!” came Eunbi’s reply.

She practically hears a huff from the other line. “Are you sure, Eunbi? You know WMG is getting a lot of attention lately, so you would be paid expensively if you accept.”

Just like that, Eunbi starts to reconsider. It was only yesterday during their staff meeting, they were talking about how they needed to come up with a strategy to get more money if the studio wanted to last for more than the next 3 years. More and more teenagers are attracted to the kpop scene, and thought it would make better money than being an underground dancer. They weren’t entirely wrong. But that shouldn’t mean Eunbi should sell her soul to the industry she walked away from… should she?

“I’ll think about it.”

“Wonderful! I’m looking forward to hearing from you, Eunbi, goodbye now.” And the c