December 1st, 2040, Seoul.

T.M.J. Academy’s students meeting.

“박수 (Baksu/Cheers) for Kim Jongin, who managed this whole year to break records one after the other, both in dance field and academic courses!” The dean of the private college proudly uttered in his microphone; the end of his sentence almost cut by the round of applause praising the valedictorian student who briefly stood among his peers, slightly bowing out of respect to them a couple of times. His stare was the only part of his stoic features conveying an emotion, his plumps lips remaining closed, no smile daring to curve them. Kim Jongin was famous in his school and even beyond it for his reserved yet determined demeanor as much as his dancing skills; his fierce look was the only thing he had to offer today after years of efforts and sacrifices. He was about to achieve one more step of his thoroughly planned life:

“As your valedictorian student, Jongin would have the honor to perform a solo dance show during our annual graduation gala. He has carte blanche to choreography and stage this show. I would like to remind you all that this event is not only intended to celebrate the end of your studies but will allow you to demonstrate your talents to many companies and dance studios as well as entertainment agencies that may recruit you, depending on your performance. Of course, I count on you to honor our school in front of them. No pressure.” The fifty years man half-joked, earning light chuckles for the assembly. Kim Junmyeon Dean was known for his peculiar sense of humor.

Jongin’s fists tightened in his pant’s pockets, satisfaction giving a boost of strength. Finally, he would have the opportunity to shine thanks to his own hard work not on behalf of his family’s name and achievements in the entertainment world. He couldn’t wait to be recruited and start his career as a dancer. But he didn’t want to stay in his country. South Korea was world widely praised only for its K-pop performances. In general, Asian dancers in Ballet or Contemporary Dance weren’t well welcomed yet due to their short limbs most of the time; even major dancers like Park Sae Eun had struggled a lot before being recognized and becoming the first ever Asian woman to hold the rank of first Etoile of the Paris Opera Ballet in 2021. If he was grateful of one thing coming from his parents, it was his 1.85 cm allowing him to display grace and power in the same time.

“I would like to add a last thing before letting you check your roles in the Gala’s show on the Grand Hall. This year marks the twentieth anniversary of T.M.J. Academy and to respect the spirit of this school that is to educate students both in arts and traditional courses without taking into account social origins but only determination and potential, each art student will perform with a traditional one…”

Good for them. Jong In thought, indifferent. Since he had a solo, he would perform alone for sure.

“ … and as funny as it sounds, even solo parts will be performed with two students so most likely will become duos.”

“WHAT!?” Jongin blurted out, his cry echoing in the huge silent amphitheater, gaining unwillingly everyone’s attention.

Aish! “Erm …,” the embarrassed young man cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “I mean… Is that the case for the valedictorian solo as well?” He politely translated his previous exclamation, his eyes almost pleading the dean to deny it.

“Indeed, it is. And since you are our best student this year, we have chosen an equally special student for you to perform with.” The dean, offered him a mysterious smile before continuing his explanation. “The Gala’s theme and all the details for each of you will be mailed in the evening with the contact intel of your comrades to get in touch with them and coordinate your brainstorming and rehearsal sessions during winter break and Lunar New Year holidays. Don’t forget you have only two months to prepare your show. When you will be back from holidays, your head teacher will help you with the last details and review your show, advising you if necessary. Until now, you have still two weeks of courses, so make good use of them to consult your teachers if you need to. If there are no further questions the assembly is dismissed, have a good week!”

The dozens and dozens of rows started to empty in a buzzing rumble, students betting about their assignment and the student affiliated to each of them. T.M.J. Academy was in fact two colleges. A classic one with its sports, computer science, engineering, medical, mathematics, economics, history, literature and law branches and an artistic one with its dance, acting, modeling, singing, painting, sculpting, designing, cooking and entertaining sections. Each student would have a major in one of them but would still have to take courses in the other one to widen his or her educating field and be more creative and flexible when working. So, it wasn’t rare for art students to mingle with classic ones when they had math courses or when classic ones were taking yoga or interior design classes. But until this year, the Gala was exclusively performed by artistic students since it was a show to attract donators and recruiters and spread the school aura in the entertainment world a little more each year.

“Why this year, damn it!? Why me?!” Jongin mumbled, still sitting in the comfortable red chair. He was furious, not slightly feeling his fingernails dipping into his palms’ skin for tightening his fists to the extreme. It was unfair. He had worked so hard for this moment and everything was going to be over even before it could have started. Knowing Kim Dean, there was no hope to make him change his mind. He was a man of his words, and changing the rules for the benefit of only one student was definitely not his conception of running the until now flawless institution.

“Thinking of an inexistent solution is a waste of time…” He finally stated, inwardly grateful of the inheritance of his mother pragmatic mind. In fact, it was a new record for Jongin. Acknowledging in the same day two things coming from his parents as beneficial for him.

He took a deep breath, shook his head to avoid thinking of his family and stood up, noticing he was the last one to exit the now empty place. It felt bigger than when it was filled with excited students. And the gala hall would be even bigger than this amphitheater, it was truly thrilling for the performer he was to have such a big audience. Unfortunately, the stage would feel way smaller with one more student beside him, he recalled, signing once again before heading toward the first dance studio available for him to let out his frustration and disappointment through his moves.

Dance had always been his favorite outlet, reading and cooking coming next.

After pressing his thumb on the digital reader, he pushed the unlocked door of the second studio he passed by, the first one having music played in it, he assumed it was already taken. The familiar atmosphere soothing faintly his nerves, the huge bay window allowing natural light to hit the two mirror walls forming a corner and giving the room the necessary brightness to witness every tiny flaw in the students moves. Dance studios would always have a double meaning for dancers. It was the unavoidable origins of all their physical pains and failures and the essential instrument of their successes and pride as well.

The dancer put his bag near the door on the varnished parquet and started stretching, after changing his shoes. Thankfully, his school wasn’t imposing a uniform so he was already in dance clothes to save time.

As always, when he was in need of peace to focus, he summoned his very first memory while breathing deeply, his eyes closed. He envisioned the little boy he was at four, running happily on an empty beach, enjoying the sensation of the wet sand on his feet and the smell of the ocean conveyed by the lukewarm breeze. He had an iced cone in his left hand, barely feeling the cold and green melted cream running on his tanned wrist skin, his mind’s attention driven by the beauty of his second father running, jumping and twirling before him when they were playing cat and mouse. His giggling, the feeling of admiration and happiness gave him back the strength to recall his final goal and to concentrate only on that. No matter what obstacles were about to happen to him, he would succeed. He had to, he needed to, he wanted to and he would, without a doubt.

When he opened back his eyelids, he met his own reflection in the mirror and smirked at the regained determination conveyed by his solid stare.

“That’s it. The show must go on.” He firmly uttered and ordered distinctively and loudly “Play music.” to activate the studio’s sound device already paired with his rehearsal playlist on his phone.

T.M.J. Academy was one of the first colleges to invest in Hi-tech managing installations, and one of Jongin’s preferred devices was the system compiling his data. Each time he was entering a studio by identifying himself, it was recorded and he could access the number of hours he had worked every day, the estimated calories spent thanks to his sports watch and he would receive a daily mail suggesting the amount and type of food needed to maintain his musculature and health for the next day. If the student was willing to, the system was communicating a specific menu for the college’s cafeteria to prepare it for the three meals of the day.

The system was collecting his connected electronic scales’ data as well. He could set alarms when he was overweight or when he did not have enough muscles, could schedule appointment with the college’s coaches and nutritionists to adapt his routine in consequence.

And in order to avoid overworking students, the system had its own set of alarms about weekly sleep hours, underweight issue, abnormal heartbeat, low oxygen saturation, high level of cortisol and adrenaline to measure the stress according to each student features and tolerance. If a system’s alarm were triggered then the only access the student still had would be the medical facilities where the head doctor would have already received a mail about the actual issue. The student would be denied the access to the studios, classrooms or even the dorms until consulting one of the college doctors.

It was very effective, dissuading students to cross their body limits to achieve unhealthy goals, teaching them how to take care of themselves in order to succeed on the long-term in a safe and helping environment.

So far, T.M.J. Academy had never had a suicidal student or any known attempt, not even a former student since the college was keeping in touch with all its graduated students, some of them becoming teachers or consultants on the campus.

The academy had always made a point of honor to support its former students to build their career, well aware that having a diploma wasn’t enough nowadays. If a student or a group of them were having an innovative yet realistic project, the school could invest in it to help them to make a prototype or lent them a place and furniture to work efficiently.

****

Hearing an alarm rang over the music played, a drenched Jongin finished his movement and went to his duffle bag retrieving his small towel to get rid of all the sweat making his bronzed skin glitter. Each drop of salty liquid coming out of his body was an offering to his shiny future, he had thought all those years and if he could, he would dry himself completely to reach the success he was thriving for, but despite that foolish desire, he knew that only hard work based on a great potential and a good spirit was the key of great achievements.

He shut down the sound device with another vocal order and got out to take a quick shower before heading to his cooking class. He was feeling better, endorphins hitting his brain and muscles, making his body feel light and capable of anything.

This sensation didn’t leave him until he came back around 7 p.m. to his dorms after having retrieved his dinner at the cafeteria. Too tired to cook during the week, he was only cooking on the weekends, using the shared kitchen on his floor.

He stocked his meal in the fridge, not feeling like eating right now and crashed on his single person bed with a loud sign of relief tainted with an inch of sadness. The only material stuff he was missing from his family house was his double bed. The small mattress was comfortable at least, the dorms being affiliated to the school, it was unthinkable to not have ergonomic furniture including, desks, chairs and mattresses. The dorms baths were well equipped as well, with jacuzzi, water jet on showers rooms, massage table for the students to help each other and a cold and hot set of rooms to activate the circulatory system. Jongin was mostly using the shower jets and the massage table, curiously always having the chance to benefit the service of a physiotherapist student.

He was dozing off for a couple of minutes when his watch vibrated, announcing him a received email. He tapped twice on the black screen and the message was projected on the wall in front of his bed. He frowned while reading it.

 Gala’s thematic: “The discovery of a new world”, 4^th year Design student Lee Sae ra. 011-XXXX-XXXX. Dorms unit 01, room 14.

“Discovery of a new world? Design student? How can I dance on that theme with that type of student on stage!? Does she even know how to dance at all?” He exclaimed, his hands frenetically shaking above his head out of exasperation. “Goddamnit! Is the universe against me today!?” He wasn’t a believer of any kind but he was seriously thinking he was cursed after today’s event.

However, he was not so far for the truth, even if he had misinterpreted the signs and the purpose behind his “curse.”

****

Late that same night, Kim Junmyeon dean answered an expected call with a sweet smile.

“Good evening Marianne. Yes, our plan has started… Of course, he was surprised, you should have heard him yelled when he heard he wasn’t having a formal solo show.” The old friend chuckled at the recall, proud to have shaken the unwavering prodigy. “No, no, no, don’t worry, he will be fine. Trust him, he is your son after all.”

A/N : For my dear readers who have already read The Three Of Us, Break The Box and Don't Touch Me, I'm sure you will catch the clues ;p. Don't panick and be confused about the main character name, it will be explained later, don't worry and enjoy!

For appreciated new readers, don't worry i will connect the dot in the followings chapters for you to unterstand better some references. You can truly enjoy this story without having read those previous stories. This one takes place 20 years after those by the way.

This story will have only short chapters arround 2000 words for me to be able to update even during my busiest period of the year : summer.