A job is a job.

"Chaeyeon, you're up," The stage director motioned to Chaeyeon as she guided her towards the narrow steps leading to the stage. 

This was Chaeyeon's first solo performance after years of being a backup and ensemble cast dancer. Her efforts were finally recognized by the production head, Bae Yoonjung, after she got high marks from play critics as a wing dancer. She nervously walked up to the stage to her starting spot behind the curtains, her legs shaking like they could turn to jelly at any moment. Her hands were cold so she rubbed them together first, hoping to generate enough heat to stop them from trembling as she positioned her body for the starting pose. It was funny how her body was trying hard not to work with her when her mind has been waiting for this opportunity to happen.

Before she knew it, she heard the drum roll that introduced the song and the curtains began to open up. She forced herself to smile, a task that was as common as breathing to her when she's onstage, putting her worries aside for the next ten minutes of her life. This was her stage. This was going to be her highlight. Her solo.

A job is a job.

But for Chaeyeon, this job was her life.

As she started moving to the music, letting her muscles take over as the mind focused on flushing out unnecessary thoughts and feeling the emotions of the instruments playing in the background. The countless hours of rehearsals and the cuts and bruises that came along with the strenuous training were all worth it, but the possibility of screwing up was still there.

A job is a job.

And a job was all she needed to keep her.

As she skipped and twirled across the stage, she kept her eyes peeled to the audience. To the audience's eye, the occasional eye contact was taken as a way to convey the longing feeling that the music and the choreography were trying to portray. To Chaeyeon, it was a different sense of longing. She kept looking for that familiar face that she dedicated her dancing for, but her eyes kept gravitating towards the empty seat in the first row that corresponded to the ticket she had given her.

Her past roommate, now girlfriend, Honda Hitomi.

Her mind failed to stop the thought of their last fight. Hitomi had been distant and secretive in the days prior to her big performance, and her lack of enthusiasm after Chaeyeon gave her a ticket to her performance sent the dancer over the edge. She remembered her loud exasperated voice filling the room overcoming Hitomi's silence. The woman never said a word aside from "Sorry. I'll try my best to be there." before leaving the apartment.

She caught herself as she almost fell after performing a pirouette. Flush down all unnecessary thoughts. Focus on ending strong. This will not be your last solo stage. This is only your first.

A job is a job.

And maybe this job can buy a celebratory dinner for her and Hitomi.

The music slowed down indicating that the song was coming to an end. She only needed to do