Chapter 1

 

“So you are saying that if I don't accept this option I'm out of school?”

 

Park Jin Young - director of the prestigious Allegro Institute of Fine Arts - frowned. He sat behind his desk, his posture a little stiff, expression hardened. At first glance, he might seem like one of the arrogant fancy folks that walked around the dance school. But looks could deceive.

 

As a dancer, the director conquered the world. Performed in all stages, charming everyone with his poise and elegance. Perfection had a name. And it was Park Jin Young. But as a director, he was just the opposite.

 

The man was ruthless. The gracefulness ballet dancer was gone, giving place to a man who ran the Institute with iron fists. However, the kindness he showed on stage was still present. The director was responsible for a revolutionary change on Allegro Institute of Fine Arts, opening its doors for all kind of dancers, not only the beautiful ballerinas the Institute was famous for. He was nothing like his ballet colleagues.  

 

Park Jin Young was also the reason Chansung enrolled in the Institute. As a kid, he never dreamed of dancing professionally, much less going to Dance School. But one day the director saw him and - according to his words - he saw potential in that scrawny tall kid that break danced in the middle of a dirty street with his friends.

 

“No, Chansung. I'm giving you an option. You missed a lot of classes.”

 

“I know, hyung. But you know how it is with my mom's disease. I just couldn't leave her,” he pleaded. Maybe he didn't want to go to a Dance School before. Maybe he thought this place was filled with stuck up people dressed in the gayest collants, but he really found his destiny. And it was dancing.

 

“I know and I'm sorry,” the older man said, his expression softening subtly. “But this is a serious institution and we have rules. But I'm giving you this option. And it's more than I ever did to anyone here, Chansung.”

 

“So let me get this straight. You want me to join the ballet class. The advanced ballet class?”

 

“Yes, correct.”

 

“But hyung, you know I'm not really good at it. Last semester I barely made it through on Ballet Technique 101.”

 

“Nothing you can't improve. Listen to me well, Chansung. I saw potential in you. Not only to be a contemporary dancer or a break dancer or whatever young kids do, but to be a dancer. Period. A complete one. I really think this could help you overall.”

 

“Hyung has too much faith in me,” he said with a blush, his head down. How could an icon like him see so much in him, Chansung wondered. He considered himself a normal dancer, maybe a little above average, but never special.

 

“So work with me. Pay this faith with hard work and dedication and let's see who's wrong in the end. But right now, I need you to stop doubting yourself and help me. Besides I need you.”

 

“How come?”

 

“You know end of the school year is approaching. And Jo Kwon, one of our finest students, was badly injured. And the class needs to rehearse for the end of the year recital.”

 

“You want me to dance with them on the recital? With that people?” Chansung asked with a gasp. Dance recital was their opportunity to show their improvements to teachers and up for evaluation. It was also when the Institute opened its door for the community. It was serious business. Especially when it came to Jo Kwon's little conceited clique. The best dancers in the school.

 

“Not really. We still have hope Jo Kwon will recover. But they still need a male dancer to pair up with one of the girls. They need the whole group to rehearse.”

 

“And there isn't anyone else you could ask?”

 

“Listen, Chansung,” the director said, getting up from his chair. “Everyone is busy with their own pieces for the recital, but I can find someone if I try hard. But where does that leave you? You need grades and you missed a lot of classes,” he added walking towards the door, a clear indication the conversation was over.

 

“Okay, I will do it,” he blurted, finally surrendering himself despite his fears. “But I still have my own recital with my own group. How can I deal with all of this?”

 

“Well, you will figure this out. See you later. I gotta a few other things to attend.” He finally opened the door and showed Chansung the way out. The student bowed and said a quick thank you to his sunbae.

 

He walked towards the dorms, somehow dreading the moment he would finally meet the ballet group. Park Jin Young was offering him a great chance and he should be grateful, but Chansung didn't have it in him to be happy.

 

When he went back to his room, his roommate Ok Taecyeon was talking to himself out loud. His eyebrows were creased, dramatic words coming out of his pursed lips. One might think he was insane, but no, his hyung was just a drama student majoring in acting.

 

However, Chansung paid him no mind and proceed to his bed, falling on it with a thud, face down on his pillows.

 

“Someone seems to be in a good mood,” his roomie mocked, approaching Chansung's bed. “What's going on? Dig your mom's condition got worse,” he asked, sobering immediately.

 

“Nah, man. School problems. The director asked me to join some ballet group and help them in their rehearsals.”

 

“What's the problem then? Just do some pirouettes and lift some hot chicks in collant and you are done.” Typical Ok Taecyeon. In his world, everything was easy because he was the most good looking guy in the Institute school. And of course, everything to him was about hot chicks.

 

“It's not so easy. Ballet is hard. And it's not my thing. I'm into street dance, hip hop, but I'm good at modern, contemporary dances. But ballet,” he trailed, already thinking of facing that group of people. Ballet was indeed hard, but facing them would be the hardest thing. They were stuck up, their noses up high like they were school royalty and the rest of the students poor peasants ruining their mood. Chansung was sure his life would be hell, but he really needed to do this.

 

“And you can't refuse this?”

 

“Not really, my grades are at stake here. Anyway, enough with me,” he said, trying to change topics. “It can't be helped anyway. What's up with you?”

 

“Oh, I'm glad you asked,” he added happily, promptly getting some sheets and handling them to Chansung. “I'm rehearsing for the recital. We are doing the play Midsummer night’s dream.” Chansung didn't say a word, only eyed the sheets with some confusion.

 

“What are you giving this to me?”

 

“I need help. Please rehearse the lines with me,” he only with apprehension. He looked hopeful, his eyes twinkling, a look he never seen on his usually bashful companion. And he didn't have the heart to say no.

 

“Okay. I will help.”

 

“Thank you, my lovely dongsaeng,” he said and choked Chansung with his arms. “The beer is on me after we do this.”

 

“You smuggled beer again, hyung?” he asked with a giggle because while one arm had a strong hold on his neck, the other one was tickling the youngest.

 

“Yes, of course,” he said getting up. “Now let's get to work.” For a while they rehearsed, but pretty soon they start goofing around with lines, going from drama to melodrama in exaggerated gestures and loud voices. And then it was time for beer.

 

“Cheers, hyung,” he said happily, gulping the beer eagerly. When the cold liquid passed by his throat, everything was suddenly forgotten. Beer and the a good companion was all that mattered in that cold night.

 

“Are you kidding me, right?” Jo Kwon said. Clearly he was trying not to shout, but failing anyway because his voice came out as a squeal. They were in the middle of school corridor and a few people turned their heads to see the weird sound that came out of his mouth, but he didn't care. Not when he was receiving THE WORST NEWS EVER.

 

“I'm not kidding, young man. Hwang Chansung is a good dancer. And he will replace you.” Judging by Jo Kwon's red face, he wasn't taking the fact lightly. He looked ready to explode.

 

“But hyung, he's a pea...” He almost uttered the nickname him and his friends created for the group of misfits that came to the Institute lately, but stopped himself. Park Jin Young wouldn't like them calling them peasants. Those lowly creatures were really peasants, coming to the school with their inferior form of art, but it wasn't time for the truth. It was time for negotiation. “He's not a ballet dancer, hyung. This will ruin our presentation,” he said, his voice dripping fake sweetness.

 

“Jo Kwon, I wouldn't find you someone I didn't deem capable of the job. He's good, he just needs guidance. But be my guest and find someone else.” Park Jin Young was well aware it would be almost impossible to find someone willing to stop their own rehearsals to help them, especially because Jo Kwon's little group was famous for being nasty and competitive.

 

So he threw the bait and pretended he didn't care, but he was sure this replacement would be the best for the group and for his protegee. Jo Kwon finally puffed his cheeks and sighed in resignation. “Okay, hyung. Thanks.” After bowing, they followed their own path, each one with a thought in mind. Park Jin Young went to his office with a smile on his face because he achieved his plan. Jo Kwon grabbed his clutches and went to their rehearsal room to give them the bad news. But he wasn't done. This Hwang dude would serve them for now, but he wouldn't stop looking for someone else.

 

When the young ballet dancer came close to rehearsal room, he could already hear the piano sounds vibrating in the air. The calming music brought him peace, but also brought different sides of him Fierceness, competitiveness, aggression. All at once and no regrets. The only regrettable thing was his injury.

 

He entered the place, but no one paid attention to him. Only ballet existed in the that mirrored room. Jo Kwong envied all of them when he watched their faces contorted in concentration, the perfect steps following the calming notes made by the piano. The plies, the arabesques, the ballancés, everything was in order. He sighed, thinking how nothing on life was perfect. Except ballet. And even that was taken away from him.

 

“What is going on, Jo Kwon?” Mrs. Baranova, their teacher, approached him and asked in a heavily accented voice. The Russian woman was one of the best ballerinas in the world when she was in her prime, but little of that lively dancer remained. She was rigid, always pursed in distaste. People around the Institute called her The Whip and it happened for a reason.

 

“I just came with a meeting with Park Jin Young. He told me some kid is going to replace me until I recover.”

 

“And he is not fit, my dear?”

 

“Not really,” he whispered, but he wanted to shout at the injustice, but couldn’t because he didn’t want to interrupt the class. “He is one of those misfit kids Park Jin Young infected this Institute with. But he was all he could get so we have no choice.”

 

“Oh, can't believe it. That Park Jin Young has no sense of propriety,” she spat, her face contorted in rage. “This is unacceptable. First he brings acting and music here. Then he brings those little bastards to this Institute, now he brings them to ballet to mix with us.”

 

“Yes, Mrs. Baranova. But we have no choice with the recital so close. We need to rehearsal and Fei can't stay without a partner. I guess I will just help them and pray that my injury will get better.”

 

“I wish I could help, dear. But I believe in your capacity and I have no say in the way you guys make this final project,” she added with tenderness. Mrs. Baranova loved Jo Kwon and has put him under her wing since the day he joined the Institute. Sadly for him, she also loved another student. The damned Lee Junho. The oh so great Lee Junho. He rolled his eyes just to think about that little bastard.

 

When the class ended, he approached his little group to give them the bad news. They all gathered their things, sweat on their foreheads, tiredness written all over their face.

 

“Guys, please stay for now because I have bad news.” They suddenly stopped whatever they were doing. Junho, Jinwoon, Fei, Jia and the other kids looked at him, waiting with anxious expressions.

 

“What is going on,” his partner Fei asked. She looked like she was about to cry. He beautiful features marred with worry.

 

“Park Jin Young found ourselves some replacement. It's a kid of modern dancing, hip hop. Errr, I don't even know the name of that crap. It's one of the peasants.”

 

“Oh, my,” Fei said with a gasp, formed a perfect o. “How can he do this to us?”

 

“I know, right?” he said sweetly. “That's what I told him. But he doesn't have anyone else, so we have to settle. But I promise, as the leader of this group, that I will keep looking. But until we don't find anything better, he will have to do.”

 

“Can't we rehearse without him? I mean, you will probably heal in no time, right?” JR, one of the newbies, asked.

 

“No, we can't. We need to rehearse the formations. Besides,” he added sadly. “We need a backup plan in case I don't heal.”

 

“You will heal, oppa. I'm sure,” Fei said, putting a hand on his shoulder for comfort. “That wouldn't be happening if Taemin that idiot didn't drop out of school. We need back up dancers that are actually dancers, not some fools with baggy clothes,” she added with a pout.

 

“There is nothing to be done now, is it, princess Fei?”

 

“Is this over?” Junho suddenly interrupted. Jo Kwon wanted to throw a fit at the sound of Junho's voice, but he pretended to smile. He always did, ever since Junho started stealing his spotlight. Especially after the group decided he would be the first ballerino.

 

“Yes, Junho. We are over. Just wanted to let you guys know you will have a peasant on the rehearsal later,” he added with a fake smile, his eyes rolling when he used that little nickname they created for those guys.

 

“See you guys later,” Junho added with a stoic expression. He grabbed his bag and left, not even one goodbye and a bow to his hyung. Jo Kwon wanted to throw a fit in exasperation. But he held himself. Jo Kwon needed to heal. And he need to beat Lee Junho at all costs.

 

Junho's sat down on the floor with a thud. His muscles ached and he couldn't stay up any longer. He took off his street shoes and socks to analyze his feet. The skin bled a little, its surface full of callus. He called them battle scars in his path to glory, a necessary evil he had to endure. But he didn't like to dwell on that for long, so he quickly put on his ballet shoes because it was time to dance.

 

The rehearsal wouldn't happen for another 45 minutes, but he arrived early like he always did since he was 11. Arrive early, leave after was his motto since then.

 

He finally tied the lace and got up. At first, he felt the muscles ache once again, his body singing in pain. But soon enough all was muted to give place to the the thing that made him wake up everyday: the drive. The will to succeed, to shine.

 

He put play on the stereo. The lights weren't on because he always prefered to be on the dark, only awareness of his body dictating his next movements. The deadly silent room turned into darkness with sounds, the staccato rhythms of Radiohead's Idioteque echoing on the sinister mirrors. He loved ballet, but when it was time to warm his body, he didn't like calm music. It was time to loose his body, so he acted free. Rehearsed movements didn't exist here, only his body acting on it own and moving to the dramatic music. It was the best time of his day, the only time he showed his true soul.

 

Chansung looked at the clock. Still 30 minutes until the rehearsal. He was so nervous he wanted to arrive early to get ready and warm his body. But when he was about to open the door to the dance studio, he paused. Through the door, he could hear a powerful song, heavy drums making the door tremble a little. Slowly in order not to get noticed, he entered the room.

 

In the dark room, he saw a blur. Its movements were quick, neat, dramatic. And also beautifully sad. The person danced with abandon, like there was no hope for a tomorrow. Like there was only dancing. The sad vocals echoed through the room and this person's body mimicked the dramatic words. In that moment, he understood why people called dancing a form of art. It expressed angst, anguish, love. And right now, he felt a rush of emotions in that dance. Conflict. Sadness expressed in form of beautiful steps.

 

But it suddenly stopped, scaring him. “Who's there?” A male asked, shouting because the music was still playing. Weirdly, Chansung thought the dancer was a girl. The gracefulness and poise he gyrated his body and the delicacy he moved reminded him of a girl. But he should know better. His movements had also an intensity very few women could achieve. A light violence that only males could muster. “I said, who's there?” the thick voice asked again, this time with impatience.

 

“Sorry, it's Hwang Chansung.” He saw the blur walk and reach the light switch and in a second he found himself face to face to a raven haired boy with a severe face. He was small, but his body strong and tight.

 

“Oh, the boy that will replace Jo Kwon,” he said with indifference. His eyes were tiny, especially because he was trying to adjust to the sudden brightness that took over the room.

 

“Yes, I guess. And your name is?”

 

“My name is Lee Junho,” he added, ignoring Chansung's extended hands and walking towards the stereo with elegance. “What are you doing here so early?” he added with his back still turned, showing his perfect clad in black tights.

 

“I came here to warm up and got a feel of the place,” he added with insecurity, still looking at his retreating back and not being able to look anywhere else.

 

“You can stay,” he affirmed while he fiddled with the stereo. Suddenly the dramatic stopped and the usual boring piano song started playing. “But don't get in the way,” he added with finality. He immediately went to the barre to stretch himself and do whatever ballet dancer did. And just like that, Hwang Chansung was completely ignored.

 

AN: THANK YOU, THANK YOU for all the subscribers and the upvotes. You guys are really amazing and supportive.

 

This chapter is bigger because I wanted you guys to meet our power duo CNN. But from now on, chapters might be a bit smaller so I can update more.

Going now, but pleaaaaase comment? Would love to hear what you guys think.