“Okay, everyone. That was good,” the dance teacher said. “But it could be better. Everyone sit down so I can give out corrections.”

Jongin collapsed to the ground. He was still panting and sweating from the dance routine. But he would rather be tired than humiliated. He couldn’t be judged—not in front of all these people.

The teacher called out corrections to each person, but Jongin could not bother to listen. He was too busy worrying about what she would say to him. When she finally got to Jongin, he could only stare at the ground.

She smiled when she saw the boy. “Jongin. Your technique is perfect. You are an amazing dancer—one of my best. You never make a mistake in the choreography.”

Jongin lifted his head and broke out into a smile. This was great—he was being praised.

But the teacher interrupted Jongin’s thoughts. “However, dancing is not just about technique and getting the choreography right.” Jongin’s smile fell and he resumed his staring contest with the floor. His teacher sighed knowingly. “Jongin, I’m trying to help you improve. Do you know what your dancing is missing?”

Jongin met his teacher’s eyes. There was no longer any trace of the brilliant smile he showed her seconds ago. “What?”

“Expressions. Jongin, to truly be a great dancer, you must show the correct emotions in your face. I can’t find any faults with your movements, but your face is always blank. Does an audience want to see a robot dancing? No. Dancing is an art. The piece we just practiced—the song is sad, right? It’s about heartbreak. Show it in your face. Show it in your movements. I want to see you show those emotions through your whole body. Could I tell that the piece you were just performing was sad? Yes, but only because I could hear the song. If there was no song, I would just see a person mechanically moving, get it? But I need to be able to feel something when I see you dance, even if there is no song playing. Can you do that, Jongin?”

“Yes. I can do that,” Jongin, back to looking at the ground, replied.

The teacher couldn’t help but feel guilty for what she said when she saw Jongin’s dejected demeanor. Maybe she had been a little too harsh. But in the end, she was only trying to help her best dancer become even better, so it was okay wasn’t it? She sighed and looked at the clock. 6:30—time to go.

“Okay, class, that is all. You can go now. Remember to keep in mind what I told each of you today. I want to see improvements next week, understood?”

“Yes!” Her students all got up, rushing to get a drink of water after a grueling hour of dance class. Usually, Jongin stayed behind to practice. But today, he was part of the crowd. He walked over to his bag, grabbed his water bottle, and rushed out the door.

--

When Jongin entered his house, he saw his mom in the kitchen cooking dinner. “I didn’t expect you back this early! How was dance class?” his mom asked.

“Fine,” Jongin mumbled. He shuffled past her and up to his room.

His mom watched with a worried expression as her son trudged up to his room. “Weird kid. He’s usually happy after dance. I wonder what happened.”

Jongin crashed onto his bed and hid his face in his pillow. He didn’t understand. How could he get the choreography down perfectly if he was too concentrated on showing emotion? It was impossible.

Jongin was frustrated with himself, but he was mostly frustrated with his teacher. Couldn’t she see how hard he worked? She said so herself—his technique and execution were perfect. Why does she want more? It was obvious that, even without these expressions that she deemed ‘necessary,’ he was the best dancer in her class. He’d been dancing for years. If showing emotion was so important, why hadn’t she told him so earlier?

As Jongin thought about the day’s events more and more, his frustration with his teacher grew. He skipped dinner and fell asleep with spiteful thoughts permeating his mind.

--

The next week, Jongin walked into class late. The teacher looked at him and sighed. “Jongin, why are you late?”

Jongin walked to the side of the room and dropped his bag. “Does it matter? I’m here now.”

This was not what the teacher, or anyone else, expected from Jongin. She tried to hide her astonished expression while she replied to her student’s harsh remark. “Yes, I guess you are. Well hurry up then. Everyone is going to show me the routine we’ve been working on and I’m looking forward to seeing everyone’s improvements.”

Jongin scoffed but did as he was told. Because he was so afflicted by his teacher’s words last week, he hadn’t practiced the routine at all. But it was fine—he was Kim Jongin.

When the song ended, everyone sat down. The teacher went to the front of the room and, like last week, corrected everyone individually. When she got to Jongin, he was not staring at the ground this time. He stared straight into his teacher’s eyes, showing no hint of fear or embarrassment.

“So what did I do wrong this week?” he asked rudely.

His teacher could no longer hide her shock. “Jongin, what is the matter with you? In all the years you have danced here, you have been nothing but a polite and respectful student.”

“Really? I thought you would be happy because I’m finally showing some emotion.” There was no hiding the malice in Jongin’s voice.

The whole class was paying close attention to the teacher and Jongin’s conversation. The teacher composed herself and took charge again. “Jongin, stay after class so we can talk, okay? Now let’s run the routine one more time. Get up, everyone.”

--

“See everyone next week! We will finalize this piece and hopefully we will be able to use it in next month’s showcase. But remember, I will only pick the best five in this class to perform. So practice, practice, practice! You only have this chance twice a year!”

The teacher noticed Jongin walking towards his bag and called him back. With a groan, Jongin spun around and walked towards his teacher. “Yes?”

“Jongin. I want to know why you’re behaving like this. You are one of my best students, but I hope you know that I won’t tolerate this behavior from anyone.”

“One of your best?!” He ran a hand through his hair. “Then why did you say all of those things last week?”

“I was just trying to help you improve. It would make your dancing so much better.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me before? I’ve been your student since I was five. That’s nine years! And I’ve been in ten showcases! Everyone always says I do well. You always so I do well. And yet you have never once told me that I need to show emotion. Why is that?”

“Jongin, you’re an amazing dancer…”

“Stop saying that! Stop saying things you don’t mean!” Jongin threw his hands into the air and turned his back on the teacher. He started pacing in front of her while grabbing the sides of his head in frustration.

“I mean it, Jongin! You are amazing. You’ve come so far to reach this level. But you need to realize that you need to improve. You need to show emotion.”

“Have you seen those dancers who show all those emotions, teacher? They get the moves wrong. I can’t get them wrong. I can’t.”

“You don’t always have to be perfect. It will be okay if you make a mistake every now and then. I just need you to do this, Jongin. You have so much potential—don’t waste it.”

“If you say I’m already so good, why bother?”

“Because you can be even better.”

“And if I can’t? What if I try but I can’t?”

“You can. Please, just try.”

“And what if I don’t want to? What if I’m happy with how I’m doing now?”

“Then you won’t be able to become a dancer, Jongin. And isn’t that what you want? Don’t let those dreams slip away. If you don’t listen to me then…” His teacher hesitated; she was reluctant to say the next words.

“Then what?” Jongin stopped his pacing to look at his teacher. Why had she suddenly gotten so quiet?

“Then… I suggest that you no longer be my student.”

This time, it was his teacher who could not make eye contact.

This time, it was Jongin who could not hide his shocked expression.

“I see. Well I’m leaving now. See you next week.” Jongin picked up his bag and headed towards the door.

Did he say ‘see you next week?’ So he was going to try. His teacher smiled—she had gotten through to him. She was relieved; her best student had almost slipped through her fingers.

The boy stopped in front of the door. “Or maybe not.”

And this time, as fear swept throughout her entire body, it was his teacher’s smile that fell.

--

AN: I'm sorry but I didn't proofread this. Hopefully there are no conspicious errors! I hope anyone who reads this enjoys it! And thank you!