~~~~~'s POV

Huh no one's here. You scratched you head in puzzlement. 

Then you remembered that class was due to start half an hour later for this week. You were 15 minutes early. You facepalmed. So much for rushing here.

Tossing your school bag to a corner, you went to the small bathroom to change into your dance clothes. When you were done, you came out and stood in front of the large mirror that covered the entire wall on one side of the studio. The girl in the mirror wore a loose mint green t-shirt and black cargo pants. The outfit was completed by a pair of silver high-top sneakers that your father got you for your 15th birthday. These were your favourite pair of shoes.

You went closer and studied your face. You always had a fair complexion, free of pimples or other imperfections. Your lips were small and deep, almost red. Your eyes weren't small, but they weren't overly big either. They were the right size, with dark black lashes that matched your long and wavy raven black hair perfectly. Your father always said you looked like a replica of your mother, a chip off the old block. 

But you wouldn't know. You had no memory of your mother.

Because she took her last breath just as you took your first.

You had many pictures of her before you were born, all kept in a thick photo album, collected by your father over the years. You remembered how long your father grieved over her death, though. He mourned for years, up till you were four years old.

FLASHBACK

The 4-year-old you had just finished getting dressed. Your aunt had come for a visit and brought you a beautiful blue and yellow hand-made dress and pretty red shoes. You twirled in front of the mirror, fascinated with the way the yellow skirt flew up, making you look like a princess fairy. You beamed at your aunt and hugged her in gratitude. Your aunt smiled and bent down to your eye level. your long black hair, she whispered, "She looks just like you, Young-Ae." 

[reference: this is ~~~~~'s mother. Just wanted you guys to be able to visualize the similarity]

You cocked your head to the side when your aunt's eyes started to fill up with tears. But she braved a smile and patted your head. "Go show appa your pretty dress, ~~~~~." You grinned and ran off to your father's study. You pushed the door open, only to see him lying on the floor in a fetal position, hugging a photo frame. You walked over cautiously, and realized it was your parents' wedding photo. Your face crumpled as your father sobbed. You ran the remaining distance between the two of you, knelt down and hugged him with your tiny arms. Your father looked up with start. He hadn't noticed you coming in. He sat up and took you into his arms and hugged you tight. "I'm sorry ~~~~~-ah. I just miss your umma so much." He sighed as he rocked you. You looked up at him with watery eyes and said, "I miss her too, appa. Please don't be sad. I miss you too." Tears appeared in your father's eyes again and he brought you close to his chest. Both of you sat there for a while until the tears ran dry. Then he finally looked at you and managed a smile, saying, "No more crying from now onwards, okay? Umma can't be here with us anymore, but we'll always have her in our hearts and we must be happy for her sake, alright?" You nodded as you wiped your eyes. Your father smiled a little wider this time. It was just a tiny bit, but it gave you comfort. He stood up, pulling you up and said, "Now let's go to your aunt and admire your new clothes." You smiled and taking his hand, the two of your walked out of the study, leaving the pain, tears and loss behind.

END OF FLASHBACK

~~~~~'s POV

You snapped out of your trance and sighed. You really missed her. When you were young, you were always envious of those kids that had their mothers to pick them up after school. You always had to walk home alone because your father was busy at work until 10 at night. You tried to comfort yourself by telling yourself what a great dad you have, but you knew there is nothing that could replace a mother.

Great. Now I'm so moody. I should dance it out.

Trudging over to the stereo speakers, you plugged in your iPod and went through your dance playlist. You found a song that fit your emotions perfectly and pressed played.

I Miss You - Kim Bum Soo (Stairway to Heaven OST): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WQgdN062rc4

Walking back to the center of the room, you decided to leave your hair down, take off your shoes and just try to get into the music and relax. When the intro was over and the singing started, you danced slowly and gracefully to the slow beat. You had always loved hiphop but deep down, contemporary dance was your favourite. It was a genre that allowed you to display truly deep emotions. Right now, you really needed to release your sadness.

Before you knew it, you were freestyling, closing your eyes to match with the flowing melody. You spinned, jumped, rolled and stretched every limb with poise. You inserted ballet techniques whenever you felt you could and the dance routine quickly became an intricate showcase of elegance and finesse. Tears started to roll down your cheeks as you leaped and spun. That was how much you wanted your mother back. You don't remember her, but you feel like you've known her all your life, like you still have that bond with her even though you have never made memories with her. 

But you loved her all the same, possibly more than any other child loved theirs.

All too soon, the song ended, and you ended your dance routine with a delicate ballet ending pose.

At that moment, you heard laughter and noisy chatter echo from down the corridor and you realized your dance classmates were arriving. You quickly wiped your face just as the door swung open and people started coming in. You waited until everyone came in, but you didn't see the person that was constantly on your mind in school. You pouted with disappointment.

Byunghyun oppa, why don't you come and dance and rap anymore?