The filming started and you peered over the camera at him. “Jongup! Can you not be so lame?”

            He stopped what he was doing and frowned at you. “What do you mean?”

            “This,” you gestured at him. “The whole hip swaying and bouncing thing. What type of choreography is that?”

            “This is supposed to be an advertisement for roses, not how good my dancing skills are.”

            “Yes but haven’t you learned anything in psych? Advertisers prey on people’s mentalities and psyche to make sure the product sells. The reason why we’re featuring you is because we want to ignite the idea that roses equate to suave and equate to an entire auditorium of girls wanting you.”

            Jongup frowned. “That was not part of the deal. Isn’t the whole point dorks can be cool too once they have a rose in their hands?”

            You glanced down at the storyboard. You had specifically written down all the theories of psychology that you would incorporate into the advertisement and thought. Maybe Jongup had a point. But you still wanted to use his dancing skills. You chose him as a partner for a reason.

            “How about we make a compromise?”

            “What is it?” He had a wary look on his face.

            “I’m not going to exploit you, Jongup! Don’t look at me like that.”

            He crossed his arms. “Really? Because last time we worked together, you made me hang from the monkey bars for over an hour because ‘the only way to truly advertise the effectiveness of the potion is to show it in real time.’ As if an advertisement really takes an hour.”

            “That was last term! Can’t you put the past behind you?”

            “No,” he replied stubbornly. “This time you’ll probably make me dance across the seats and throw roses and not let me go until I get one from the balcony to the stage.”

            That had been one of the few ideas floating in your head but you weren’t about to tell him that. “No,” you protested. “Why would you think that about me?” You batted your eyelids at him.

            “Stop that,” he ordered. “I won’t fall for it.”

            You put the clipboard down and walked up to him. Your hands were clasped behind your back and you blinked up at Jongup. “Uppie, how about we discuss this?”

            “How about we do two versions? I can be a dork at first, and I can do the cute dance I just did. Then magically, the audience will fill with girls and then my moves can get on. It’ll be like a fantasy land for a while and all the girls are clamoring for me and then I’ll turn into a dork again and there’s only one girl for me.”

            This was completely different from what you had planned. Your mind was mentally connecting the various theories you learned and you nodded begrudgingly. “I suppose. I like it. Who’s going to be the only girl?”

            “Well, considering how we invited the entire sophomore class females to fill up the auditorium, I think I have a plethora to choose from, right?”

            You glared at him. Jongup, getting the hint, laughed and poked your nose with a rose. “Of course not, silly. You are the only girl for me.”

            You blushed and cleared your throat. “You’re in charge of doing the poster,” you mumbled.

            You went behind the camera to hide how flustered you were. “From the top!”

            The beginning started out with Jongup being lost. He walked into the auditorium, looking dejected. You were going to CG a thought bubble and have him lament over how sad it is to be always alone. A basket of roses appeared in front of him magically.

            Jongup picked it up and started to sway to his own rhythm. You held in your laughter as you pivoted the camera to follow his actions. “Cut!”

            He stopped his wiggling. “Is it time for the other girls to join us?”

            “Go change into your suit while I call them in.”

            Filming resumed ten minutes later. This time, Jongup was smoothly dancing to an R&B song and handing out the roses to girls who climbed over their seats and one another to get to him. After the part was over, you yelled “Cut” again.

            Jongup went back to change and one of the girls stayed to help you film the final part. The lights were dimmed now and you stepped out on the aisle, waiting. Even though it was just for an advertisement, your heart was pounding.

            The music in the background swelled and then the spotlight came on. It was Jongup again, wearing his funny hat and dancing but when he saw you, he held out the rose and smiled at you.

            It was so reminiscent of how he had asked you out, that you felt the memories rise again. As the script dictated, you took the rose and stepped into his open arms. In your mind’s eye, the caption underneath read, “One Rose, One Love.”

            The class clapped when the screen went black and your professor gave you two appraising looks. “Not bad, not bad. The ending had a lot of emotions and your poster explains everything perfectly.”

            “I know,” Jongup quipped. “We have real life experience.”

this is for wonglifeforever

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