Kim YuKwon was a dancer, and a damn good one. He knew it and so did anyone who even remotely paid attention to dancers. In the studio where he practiced, he was known as somewhat of a prodigy. The boy could move- it was as simple as that. YuKwon knew he was talented but more importantly, he didn’t care about that. He was just doing what he loved. The fact that he was actually good at it was a bonus.

In a few weeks, auditions would start for the various record companies in the area. YuKwon was going to be trying out along with a handful of other boys from the studio. The five boys stayed hours and hours after everyone else went home to perfect their moves. They watched each other, critiqued and praised each other, but as the days went by, tension began to grow between the boys.

Finally the day came to start auditions. All the boys were put in separate groups of five to learn a few eight counts of dance. The new groups of five were called into a room to do the routine after thirty minutes of learning and practice. In the end, YuKwon was asked to attend a callback for the next day. Of his friends, two were also chosen-Minhyuk and Seunghyun. Even though they were bone tired, the three went back to their regular studio to practice some more for the following day.

The next day they gathered in a room with twenty other dancers. After getting to know each other a bit, an older dancer from the company entered the room. It was quiet after the group of wannabes greeted their senior.

“My name is Choi SunKi,” he told them. “For the next few months, or less, I will be watching you, training you, and ultimately deciding on who will become an official trainee. Be assured, I am very thorough in my job. Some of you won’t make it past today. Some of you will drop out in the middle. Some of you will make it all the way to the last day, make a stupid mistake, and get cut.”

He shrugged and looked around the room, gazing at each potential training candidate in turn.

“I know that each of you possesses talent. That’s not the issue. My job is to ensure that your talent becomes skill. That you can do a dance, blindfolded, deafened and upside if you have to. “

The candidates looked around. They were all confident they could do that now.

“I see how you all look. Those grins will be knocked off your face by the end of the hour. Now, I bet you’re all wondering what I’m looking for in you as dancers. Am I correct?”

There were murmurs of agreement from the boys.

“I’m not going to tell you,” SunKi replied. “Just do what I teach you, don’t cause trouble, and we’ll get along just fine.” He clapped his hands and another of the company’s dancers left and returned with a box. Interest was immediately peaked in the twenty boys in the room.

“Can anyone tell me what the greatest tool a dancer has?”

There was silence. None of the boys were bold enough to answer, and some of them weren’t really sure if they were supposed to or not.

“Come on now. It’s no fun if you don’t participate.”

A tall, slender boy raised his hand in the back. “Rhythm?” he asked timidly.

“Not the answer I’m looking for, but an important one indeed. Anyone else?”

There was a young b-boy near the front. “Tricks?”

“Again, not what I was looking for.” He shook his head at them all. “Really? None of you know? And you call yourselves dancers,” he muttered. He opened the box the other man was holding and showed them all a slightly scuffed pair of sneakers. “A dancer’s greatest tool is his shoes. It sounds like a girl thing to say, but the right pair of shoes will make or break your dancing.

“Now, let me explain how this dance camp is going to work. Each week we’ll be learning three or four dances, 40 or so eight counts each. At the end of the week, you’ll perform in your groups which I will decide on in a moment. The best dancer, which will be chosen by myself and your other dance instructors, will be given a pair of red sneakers.”

There general murmurs from the boys-some of worry, some of determination.

“The red sneakers symbolize what you want to work toward. When we perform, we wear the red shoes as a way of saying who we are and what we represent. You want those red shoes. Believe me when I say that those red shoes are the most important thing in your life from here on out,” SunKi told them. “Oh and by the way, the hardest thing to do besides getting the red shoes, is keeping the red shoes.”

Before they started learning the first dance of the week, each boy had to write his name on a large piece of paper. The dance hyungs went around and changed some of them, giving most of the boys nicknames. The slender one from earlier was named Taemin and the b-boy was Jongup. They got to keep their names. YuKwon’s was changed in spelling only, but Minhyuk and Seunghyun got nicknames. The ones who kept their names wondered if not getting a change was a bad sign but that was never confirmed.

“Alright, take a break,” one of the dancers called. The candidates all collapsed on the spot, exhausted from two straight hours of practicing and rehearsing. They all vied for spots underneath the fans or air conditioners, their chests heaving while they tried to catch their breaths.

“They’re trying to kill us,” the newly renamed Seunghyun said.

“We do this to ourselves all the time SeungRi,” U-Kwon countered.

“Yeah, but we don’t work ourselves this hard,” Minhyuk, B-Bomb answered. “This feels like some kind of endurance test.”

U-Kwon wasn’t even breathing hard but he was grateful for the break. He didn’t see why it was such a big deal to the others. This was what they wanted the most right-to be taken seriously as dancers? There were similar complaints being muttered around the room. What was everyone’s problem?

All too soon, they were back at it. The dancer hyungs called out counts and put anyone who messed up on the spot. There was no sense in having any pride. That kind of useless thing was put out quickly. At the end of the day, they were thanked for their hard work and turned out.