[Seungri POV]

I fall back and sit on the floor, panting. I angrily pound the floor, frustrated. I roughly run my hands through my hair, making strands stick out all over. I glare at myself in the mirror as my hyungs go towards the benches. Through the mirror, Jiyong hyung stares at me. With a sigh, he stands up from the bench and kneels down next to me. He places his sweaty hand on my shoulder.

“What’s wrong with you today, Seungri-ah? You seemed fine—and annoying as usual—at first, but now you’re messing up the choreography. Is something bothering you?” Jiyong hyung asks. He stares at my hair. Shaking his head, he starts fixing it gently. “You seem to distracted ever since you came back from cleaning yourself up.” He murmurs.

I cross my arms across my chest with a huff. I was about to snap back at him until I glance at my face in the mirror once more. Slowly, I start to remember messing up during the dance. I remember missing three steps in a row and I missed two turns. Then I remember what I was thinking about at the time. Letting out a small yet heavy breath, I uncross my arms and they fall limply to the floor. My tense shoulders relax and my legs ease up.

I was thinking about Heawon.

Of course I would be thinking about her; it’s probably the reason why I was angry again. Seriously, how the hell does she manage to get me so frustrated? I mean all she did was bump into me twice, pull away from me twice, and walk away from me twice… Aish! Without noticing, my hands have curled up into fists. I need to get my mind off her. More importantly, I need to learn how to control my anger.

I stare at the mirror once more and start laughing out loud. Jiyong hyung jumps up; surprised from my sudden outburst. He smacks my head. “Yah! Are you pregnant or something? You have so many mood swings!” He snaps, but continues to fix my sweaty hair.

Still laughing, I point to us in the mirror. “You look like a monkey picking on my hair!” I exclaim, laughing louder. Jiyong hyung looks up at our reflection. His pale face scrunches up in disgust. He playfully pushes me away and stands up.

“You’re the weirdest maknae I’ve ever met!” He shouts exaggeratedly, walking away.

“You’re the weirdest hyung I’ve ever met!” I shout back, still laughing. After a moment, I calm down. I stare at myself in the mirror. I raise an eyebrow. I rub my stomach and look at it. Maybe hyung is right. I am getting a lot of mood swings. I—

“Aigoo! Seungri-ah! Are you seriously thinking that you’re pregnant?” Jiyong hyung’s obnoxious laugh breaks my scary train of thought.

“Aish! Hyung! You’re so freaking abnormal!”

~O~O~

“I’m going out!” I shout as I grab my keys to the dorm. I need to go out. I’ve been holed up in the dorm for almost a week now. I need the fresh air.

“Arasso!” I hear Daesung and Jiyong hyung shout back.

I walk out of our dorm and towards the elevator. I go down to the first floor. I hum along with the music and look at my reflection. The elevator dings and the doors slowly open. I instantly smile as I meet a pair of brown eyes. “Hello, Heawon.”

She smiles back softly. “Hello, Seungri-shi.”

“Just call me Seungri.” I say as she steps into the elevator. She quickly presses the second button and glances at me as she stands next to me. “Going to dance?” I assume.

She bites her bottom lip and nods. “Aren’t you going off?”

“What—Oh, yeah.” I was about to step off the elevator, but the doors were already halfway closed. We start moving up. I stare at the closed doors and secretly smile. It doesn’t hurt to go to the second floor, right? I turn around, my smile gone. I fake a sigh and lean against the wall next to her. “I guess I’ll be going up.”

She softly chuckles. Almost instantly, the doors were open. Heawon quickly steps out and I follow her to the dance studio. Before she opens the door, she whirls around to look at me. I stop myself from bumping into her. She raises an eyebrow.

“Where do you think you’re going?” She asks.

I mimic her and raise an eyebrow. “Dance studio.”

She shakes her head.

I stare at her. “What?”

“I don’t like people watching me dance.”

“What the hell?” I blurt out. “Then why did you apply to be our choreographer?”

“I just don’t like people watching me dance alone. I’ll be dancing with you guys when I have a choreography made. There’s a difference.” She says, rolling her eyes as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

I open my mouth but close it back up. “Who said I was going there to watch you? I need to dance myself, you know.” I say instead.

Heawon stares at me for a full minute before rolling her eyes. “Fine.” She mutters before turning around and going inside. I let out a tiny breath and smile as I follow her inside. Heawon drops her bag on the bench and pulls out a towel and a water bottle. She looks over at me once before she completely focuses on her reflection on the mirror.

As if knowing what she wants, I walk over and turn on the stereo. She looks at me in surprise through the mirror. I shrug and flash a smile. Heawon looks back at her own reflection without a response. She starts shaking her arms and legs, stretching this way and that. That’s when I notice what she’s wearing. I inhale sharply. She was wearing simple black short-shorts and a neon green tank top with her black bra peeking out a little at the sides. I find myself watching her every move as she starts to dance to the music currently playing.

I sit down at a bench and watch her body sway with ease. Her footsteps were accurate, her hands were graceful, her hips glided left and right, and her face glowed with confidence and charisma. I know she’s just mixing steps together, but whatever she does, it just flows. It’s something that’s hard to achieve, especially when you’re dancing freestyle.

After a few hours, she was already sweating, making me bite down on my bottom lip hard. Then I see something else fall from her eyes, and I instantly knew those weren’t drops of sweat. I slowly stand up from my spot; worry quickly coming over me.

Why is Heawon crying?