purple lilac; /ˈpɜː(r)p(ə)l ˈlaɪlək/; first love

“first love is a little of foolishness and a lot of curiosity”

After Mark read the message his mother has sent, he instantly turned his phone off. It was just another day of his mother texting to remind him to attend cram school.

Honestly?

Mark had not once turned up for cram school from the beginning. And ironically, his parents have zero clue about it. They kept paying for his tuition fees month after month, assuming that he was diligently attending it. They were not present at home most of the time due to the long hours at the hospital so they did not really know about their son’s whereabouts. As long as he did his studies up to their expectations, they were not that attentive to him.

Perhaps it was a good thing that his parents were not usually around. He was free to do whatever he liked and yet, he was still stuck in this very household like a bird in a cage. Mark has the wings to fly freely but what was the point of having those when he was practically trapped inside.

For as long as he could remember, his parents already have his future planned out. Both were doctors at a local hospital hence, it was deemed normal for their son to follow their path. However, Mark has zero care about being a doctor. He only wanted one thing and that was to dance.

His relationship with his parents became tenser ever since he entered high school. Even though he was a member of the dance club, it was only due to him making an exchange with them. He must have the grades worthy to keep him in the dance club. He disliked it but in order to do what he was most passionate about, Mark was willing to do anything.

And very luckily for him, Mark naturally has the brains to live up to his parents’ expectations. Thus, even though there was a class test the next day, he was in the dance studio alone, letting his mind ran free.

The dance studio was basically his second home by now. Even when it was a non-club activity day, every single day after school, he would spend his time here till he went home late at night. The dance studio was as if it were a safe space for him to be free, to be who he really was.

Somehow, it was also a habit of his to play the music loud. Though the room was soundproof, it was really that loud till one could hear it from the outside.

And to prove it, someone started to knock on the door.

Mark stopped the music and when he opened the door, his