To say that Lisa Manoban loved dance was an obvious understatement. She lived for it. As a child, she always looked forward to the opportunity of watching Thai traditional dances and the stories they tell. Even when she couldn’t understand what it meant, she watched in awe the movements, the drama, the pomp. For Lisa, dance is life and life is dance. She viewed the world in tempo, transitions, and meters. And because of her love for dance, she understood humans better through their movements; of what is being said in every touch, averted gaze, the hitches of breaths and even stillness. Though she never bragged about it, Lisa was aware of how perceptive she can be. Rosie joining the batch of trainees threw the Thai ingénue’s usual astuteness off course. She didn’t like that. She was not comfortable with what she can’t understand and Rosie was an enigma.

Lisa understood that Rosie wasn’t trying to be mysterious—she just is. For the rest of the trainees, the Australian was a burst of sunshine with a smile that can light up the sky and a kindness that’s very rare in an extremely competitive environment. People thought they could read Park Roseanne like a book, and that she was easy to dismiss as a rival. If anything, everyone wanted Rosie on their team for her vocals and ability to harmonize with just about any type of voice. Lisa immediately noted Rosie’s ability to adjust and…blend like a chameleon adeptly surviving harsh environments. Lisa knew that Rosie was special and if she was honest to herself, she felt slightly threatened. That showed somehow; the small back and forth bickering that built up to varying degrees of explosive arguments.

Rosie reminded Lisa of fire; sometimes the kind that’s contained and gives off enough warmth in a cold winter night. Tamed. But every now and then you get a glimpse of a roaring kind, like a huge bonfire that wasn’t built for comfort but for a display of power. Dangerous and a little unpredictable. It tries to grow, but something extinguishes it before it engulfs everything around it.

Lisa tapped her fingers against the wooden floor, wracking her brains to figure out what’s missing. Rosie stared at the Thai from the opposite side of the dance room. “Got something on your mind, Lalisa?”

Lisa narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, Park Chaeyoung. You.”

Rosie mimicked her fellow trainee’s expression. “Figuring out a way to murder me?”

“Does thinking of a fitting dance routine for you count as that?”, Lisa said with a smirk. She chuckled at Rosie’s pained expression then turned serious. “What’s wrong, Rosie? What’s holding you back?”

“Uh, my lack of dancing skills? Lisa, I have never danced in my entire life,” Rosie whined. “I know what you’re thinking, why did I take my chances here? The answer is, I kind of didn’t really have the time to process things. I took my guitar and…just threw caution in the wind. And here I am, about to have a mental breakdown because I can’t dance to save my life. I’m grateful Jennie Unnie has been helping me, and now you. But…I think I’m going home, I can feel it. They’re gonna send me home, and I’ll…I don’t know…become a lawyer like my dad.”

“Pfffft”, the Thai artist said in response. “You’re not going home. Not with that voice of yours.”

“I don’t think that’s enough, Lisa,” the other girl said quietly, looking and sounding defeated. “Don’t forget me when you’re famous, okay?”

“And don’t forget to mention my name when you collect awards, as the person who taught you how to dance,” Lisa retorted. “You’re not going home. You’re not.” The two stared at each other defiantly until both broke into smiles. “So your father’s a lawyer, huh?”, Lisa asked cautiously and played with the hem of her shirt. “This is new information. How come you rarely talk about your family?”

“Yeah…yeah he is.” Rosie rested her chin on her knees that she had been hugging for some time. “My family’s good, I think that’s what you wanted to know,” she said with a soft laugh. “I don’t…have a sad story…which is good, of course. Really grateful. I guess I just…talking about them makes me want to go home, and I don’t want to go home yet. I miss them terribly. I miss Melbourne. It’s…weird being here. Like…I should be able to adjust easily but I don’t know, Lisa, it’s…”

Lisa nodded aggressively. “Oh god, I get you. I really do,” she muttered. “Trust me.”

Rosie’s eyes widened and had that look of shame. “I mean, no…I’m sure it’s been…worse…for you. Has it?”

The Thai dancer’s eyes were firmly focused on the floor while she shook her head. “I learned not to let certain things get to me or in the way of my dreams. And it’s not like…you know…everyone.”

Lisa knew that really didn’t answer Rosie’s question. She knew that Rosie knew anyway and that question was just an opening for her to talk about both the casual and overt racism she has experienced. She wasn’t in the mood, though, and truthfully, she meant what she said—she was determined to never let that get in the way of her dreams. That didn’t mean she didn’t feel the pain; she became so used to it that she has learned to carry it quietly and dance away whatever hurt comes at her direction.

She also knew Rosie struggled, even if her sometime frenemy never talked about it. The way the Australian missed a lot of social cues in a hierarchy-conscious society is not of course lost on her. She sympathized a lot, as she also constantly dealt with embarrassing corrections that were supposed to be basic stuff. And maybe, Rosie also experienced something similar in Australia. But before she had the courage to ask, the girl in front of her seemed to just know what was on her mind.

“Yeah…not everyone…not everywhere…but they’re still there,” Rosie sighed. “I’m sorry, Lisa.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Lisa whispered.

Rosie frowned. “Wait, what are you saying sorry for?”

“I don’t know,” Lisa laughed loudly. “What are you saying sorry for?”

Rosie rolled her eyes. “I’m saying sorry for all the times we fought. I don’t even know anymore why we keep fighting. You’re like…one of the few people I trust. I don’t know why, but I do. And you haven’t failed me even if you constantly annoy me. I’d like us to be friends, you know?”

“I’d like that, too.” Lisa grinned widely that her eyes smiled as well, allowing her now friend to see a little bit of her softer side. “But just to let you know, I’m still going to annoy you. Maybe more than the usual.”

“I expect nothing less, Lalisa.” Rosie stood up and straightened her clothes. “I’m starving. Want to hunt for the best Pho in Seoul?”

That was the exact moment Lisa discovered that Rosie was one mean munching machine. She blinked rapidly with agape, marveling at the amount of food her new friend’s tiny frame can take in. In between gobbling up half of the restaurant’s inventory, Rosie talked about her life in Melbourne; how people are more relaxed there, how thankful she is that her parents were very encouraging for her love of music, how she idolized her older sister-- “she’s you know…really smart and very pretty.”

“And you’re not?” Lisa asked with raised eyebrows.

Rosie slowed down her chewing. “I didn’t say that. But she’s—I mean, I’m not saying—it’s just that—”

“Do you have extra time tomorrow? I want us to practice again,” the other girl interjected casually, suddenly shifting the topic for her friend’s sake. Lisa bit her lip in guilt for pushing the topic. “I think we can start with the basics, just reinforcing the things you learn from class and what Jennie Unnie has been teaching you, too.”

“I’d…I’d