I didn’t understand why I did it.

That action, that impulsive action I just did took over my entire being and I dragged her here without even explaining myself as to why I wanted her there.

I didn’t even know why I wanted her there; I just did.

I remembered that I had offered both Ara and Kai to watch me dance one day, but it was more of an empty promise which I hoped they would forget and neither of them mentioned it. It was something I appreciated because very few knew about that hobby of mine, and I was glad they didn’t speak about it in public although I did not know why I was so scared.

Maybe because I didn’t want my mother to know.

However, it didn’t really justify the reason for why I dragged her here without Ara’s consent and just guided her here without even bothering to listen if she had something to do.

The only somewhat logical explanation would be that I needed an answer.

An answer to if I was good enough, if I should pursue my dream as planned or if I should give up. Because I knew that although Kai could give me that answer, I wanted an opinion that was honest to the point that I knew the person didn’t do it just to be nice.

I knew Ara would give her total objective opinion, because she seemed like that person.

Maybe that was the reason…

Maybe.

And when I got up that stage and performed the best I could, the choreography of the dance almost imprinted to my mind all the way to the final position. In that moment I felt as if I was floating on thin air, as if gravity wasn’t a power to hold me down, but rather to help me glide easier from step to step.

Even though I did get annoyed by my hairband breaking, I still kept going because I couldn’t stop even if I tried. Something inside of me just danced, danced until her heart’s content.

In that moment as my arms were positioned up in the air for the final pose, my feet feeling as if they barely touched the ground it was only then I noticed how out of breath I was. It was as if I was running out of oxygen.

And it felt good.

The happiness that surrounded my body knowing that finally, finally I made it through the whole piece without making a mistake, without thinking once about how people would react or how they would judge me. My mind was blank and only living in the moment, as if I was finally free.

I couldn’t help the smile that grew on my face that moment I met Ara’s eyes, which were widened in an emotion I couldn’t quite understand, but judging by the way it made my heart accelerate I figured it was something good. Maybe even better.

It was weird because I hadn’t smiled as much as what felt like years, the strain to my lips almost painful, but it felt like the type of pain which one enjoys.

After my impromptu performance I introduced Ara to the pianist, whom I regularly took classes from, Henry. He couldn’t stay for long as he had to get going somewhere, but they got along just fine before he left and we were the only two left in the theatre.

“Why me?” Ara asked as we sat on the edge of the stage, both of us just looking at the mass amount of seats in front of us. I couldn’t blame her for asking, because she must be confused, but I really didn’t know why either.

“I have no reason,” I replied simply, because that was the closest I could get to answering that question. And Ara only hummed in reply, before things went quiet again.

I wondered though; why did I smile in front of her?

Why did things feel different with Ara around?

“Ara, can I have your honest opinion?” I asked her after a while, my legs dangling slightly in the air as I carefully turned my gaze to watch her. The cerulean dyed hair came into my vision, as her eyes were focused on the air in front of her than me, as she bit her bottom lip as if in deep thought.

She didn’t say it, but when she was in deep thought she would do something with her lips, and I wondered why it fascinated me so much.

“About your dance?” she asked then, and I could only nod although she wasn’t looking at me.

Then things went silent again, for a small moment until she finally looked at me.

“To be honest with you, Krystal,” she began, but I felt the need to interrupt her.

“Soojung,” I said my real name instead, because I actually felt more comfortable with people calling me that than Krystal… Especially when I had to hear about a serious subject. Ara looked a bit taken aback, but she complied quickly with an unreadable gaze of hers, but it didn’t seem uncomfortable.

“Soojung,” she then said awfully slowly, before continuing to speak. “Your dance was a masterpiece of its own.”

That was the only thing Ara said to me, but even though it was a short sentence it held so much depth to it, to the point that I knew she enjoyed it and I almost got my belief back.

In that moment, in the middle of the stage I liked to call home, I figured that maybe dreaming about ballet wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Because if someone as Ara couldn’t even utter a sarcastic remark, it must have amazed her in a way, and I was glad to finally see her smile again.

After that Sunday, no matter what happened to her, I wanted to see that carefree nature of hers again and not what seemed like sadness in her eyes. I wanted to distract her from whatever pain she had, to let her know that someone was there, despite us having not known each other for a long time.

And she smiled again.

Her smile was like heaven.

“I’m thirsty,” Ara suddenly exclaimed as she got up, dusting her torn up jeans before she reached out her hand for me to grab. “You know about any café’s nearby?” she asked as I could only take her hand so she could help me stand on my two feet.

I had to ignore what felt like a jolt of electricity run through my veins, like an electric shock that made my heart beat faster than before. Just that mere, simple touch sent butterflies through my stomach, as if they fluttered all the way through my body, making me feel like I could fly.

When you meet someone you like, and I mean really, really like, you won’t be able to control the nerves and butterflies around that person no matter how much you try.

I thought of it as we both decided to go to the closest café after I had changed, and although I could sense Ara’s discontent and her slightly anxious aura around her, we went there either way. She probably feared the looks she might get and the fact that she technically wasn’t a part of this society, yet I didn’t want her to care as we entered the familiar aura of the café.

The café where I used to come with Jessica, when things weren’t like they were now.

“What do you want?” I asked Ara as we stood in line; the café wasn’t too crowded, but there were still a couple of people around various tables. Some of them were couples; other people were with friends or maybe even business partners. There were some people who sat alone too, I noticed, before I returned my gaze over to the girl beside me.

“I’ll just take whatever that is cheap,” was the first thing she said as her eyes were probably on the menu and I wanted to laugh a little by her shocked reaction. Personally, I thought the prices were alright, but apparently she didn’t seem to think the same.

When it was our turn to order, things got even more humorous.

“Excuse me sir,” Ara said after a while. “But your iced mocha coffee is very pricy… is it made out of gold or something?”

The man behind the counter could only look at her in disbelief by the question, and I couldn’t blame him as a slight chuckle escaped my lips as she continued to speak.

“No seriously, are the cups here made from the finest china on earth? Did Michael Jackson once touch the coffee beans?” Ara said and I wasn’t sure if she was actually joking or not, but it was funny nevertheless as the barista grew more and more confused by the second.

“Is Michael Jackson’s blood here maybe?”

Now the poor man almost seemed frightened, and I figured that now was my time to step in and probably just order before he would call the police. I only gave her a pat on the back, effectively shutting her up as I ordered instead.

“Just one Iced Mocha and one Americano, please. Oh, and two slices of cheesecake too.”

The barista then just smiled a bit timidly, before noting our order and after I paid despite Ara’s protests. Then we proceeded to walk towards the closest table by the counter, Ara still seemingly in a daze by everything.

“I had a feeling you were rich, but I didn’t know you were this rich,” she said impressed, probably because she understood what living in this neighborhood meant. I could only nod slightly before her gaze returned to me, making something or rather something huge jolt inside of me by that look.

It was as if someone knocked the breath out of me, in a way that no words could explain, and I wanted to know what was wrong with me. This couldn’t be normal at all.

“But why did you want me to pay you so little for modeling? A lousy four hundred dollars must seem like nothing for you!” Ara couldn’t mask her confusion, and I could only shrug because all that money was intended for me to go to the Paris Opera Ballet in the future.

“I have been saving up for Paris since I was fourteen,” I said while absentmindedly stirring my spoon in the now basically empty coffee cup, wondering why I even told her that information. As I looked up at her though, she only seemed to smile slightly.

“To study dance, right?” Ara said and I could only nod. “That’s impressive, really, that you would go all the way to a foreign country to do something you love.”

I actually never thought of it like that, as the only person who I shared this with only thought of the possibility of me becoming something big. Although my love for ballet of course was my biggest reason for having this plan, they never commented on my love for dance, not before Ara.

“It has been the only thing I have really wanted,” I shared after a while, although the actual possibility of me doing it was slim despite that I had already applied to the school. “However, as cliché as this might sound, my parents wouldn’t allow me.”

Ara only looked at me, almost a feeling a bit sad for me as she straightened up her position. “Why wouldn’t they want to support you in doing something you love?” Ara then asked, and it oddly reminded me of what my sister told me not to long ago.

“Because my future is already planned,” I then replied as I took another sip of the hot coffee, the bitter taste running through my throat. It was a bitter truth to know, but I wasn’t sure if I could break away from it or not.

“Then why are you still saving for Paris?”

That question struck deep the moment Ara was done asking me, because I didn’t know myself anymore. It was almost as if by some miracle my parents would accept it and support me, and I hoped they would be proud of me.

“Speaking of, how did you save all that money? If you have such a busy schedule how in the world could you work between then?” she seemed to notice my slight displeasure with the question, and steered the conversation elsewhere. I wanted to thank her for that in a way, but the only thing I could do was reply.

“Whenever my patrons were free, mostly during the night. Sometimes I’ve had to visit more than three men at the time; I didn’t want to, but I had to get the money somehow,” I said as casually as I could, although I was laughing inside by the shocked expression Ara tried to hide by my confession.

“Well… That’s one way to earn money I suppose,” she said while taking quite a large gulp of her over sweetened beverage and I could barely mask the threatening smile as I sat there.

It didn’t last long before I started laughing a bit, not getting over the hilarious expression on Ara’s face as she must have tried to imagine me as a “nightly ”. It came to the point where my giggles turned hush, as if I was only letting out air and nothing else before I heard her slowly follow, although my eyes were closed.

We sat there for a long while, even when our drinks were emptied and there were only crumbs left on our plate. It was just so easy talking to her again, and seeing her smile carefree compared to that day when she seemed ready to break down any second.

“Are you serious? Your parents did that?” Ara said through her giggles, me following shortly as I relived the memory of my parents’ reaction when they saw my hair.

“Yes, my mother seriously fainted and father thought I was wearing a wig,” I added then and I didn’t know if I really found the story comical or if it was Ara’s laugh that made the whole thing funnier. It sounded like a seal mixed up with a cartoon character, something that was an odd yet very humorous mix that made everything almost hilarious.

I thought everything was going fine, until I heard a voice I hadn’t thought would interrupt me, or make Ara stop talking all together.

“Ara?” the voice of a way too familiar person entered my ears, as I didn’t need to turn around to see who it was. However, when I did because I hadn’t seen her in so long, I couldn’t help but feel surprised by the way too shocked expression of my sister in front of me.

“Krystal?” Jessica then asked again, almost trying to confirm that it was me. She probably didn’t recognize me by the fact that my hair was in a dark shade of brown the last time she saw me.

I smiled surprised to see her, and was about to turn around to ask Ara if they knew each other when I noticed that same look Ara had that Sunday.

She looked as if she was about to break down any second.