I was drowning.

At least, that's what it felt like as the darkness surrounded me. I was immersed in a blind silence, unable to see or hear while the tension in the space continued to rise. I could sense every person in the blackened room collectively hold their breath, refusing to move in fear of being the first to break the stillness—but it shattered anyway.

A heavy, foreboding beat of a drum rang out across the room, echoing off the walls. Streaming above us was a beam of red light, illuminating the stage to reveal a young man who laid on the floor, unmoving. Wisps of grey fog crept in from the sides of the stage, reaching the man before curling its misty tendrils around his body as if it aimed to chain him down.

Then a few gentle notes from a piano played out, and the man's chest rose, his back curving off the floor as if someone was lifting him. He sat up before pausing in time with the music, then his head rolled to the side and faced the audience. His black hair fell away from his eyes, but the rest of his features hid beneath an ornate, crimson mask.

His gaze roamed over the crowd, and my heart skipped when his eyes latched onto mine. It was brief, but in that second he had me captivated entirely.

More drums started beating, progressively growing louder and faster, then new instruments joined in to add layers to the music. The dancer followed the tempo, jumping to his feet and falling right into a choreography that matched with the rhythm of the notes. The lines of his body were beautiful, each movement fluid. He was light on his feet, gliding across the stage, then when the music called for it, he allowed his steps to grow heavy.

The dancer masterfully used his body to tell a story, and my eyes followed him, savoring every detail as I tried to comprehend. The music became urgent, and his fast movements mirrored that, reaching out at nothingness as if he was searching for something. He spun and circled around the edges of the stage, creating a frantic desperation. At each corner, he would lean into a tilt and let himself nearly fall before diving into another set of pirouettes.

He's lost.

There was a shift as the music grew slower, sadder. The dancer slowed too, his shoulders sinking, posture worsening. He was weighed down by something—defeat. He lowered his head into his hands and curled in on himself.

Abruptly, the music was heightened, breaking away from the melancholy to transform into something demanding. The dancer fisted his hands and moved with intention, his presence bold as he stood tall. He exploded into new movements that displayed his strength and technicality. He became more measured, hitting each beat perfectly, leaping and tumbling with power.

As I considered the contrast in the second half of the dance, I could only conclude one thing. He'd made a choice and let something consume him, giving in to a new driving force—I just couldn't determine what it was. The obvious answer would have been anger, but beneath all the sharp choreography, somehow there was still a subtle emotion hidden there: fear.

A low violin note dragged out, all other instruments fading away. The dancer fell to the floor, tumbling backward before finally lying still. The spotlight dimmed and the curtains drew, then a tidal wave of applause rolled through the crowd. The main lights flicked on, and people were soon making their way out of the theater.

"That was incredible," I murmured, still breathless from how beautifully the dancer performed. He had a magic about him.

"I know," Jimin grinned from beside me, showing off his bright teeth. "I told you, this place is amazing. Are you excited?"

"Of course I am," I laughed, though my heart fluttered. "I can't say I'm not nervous, though. It still seems like a dream. How the hell did I get accepted into a place like this?"

Jimin rolled his eyes before reaching up to brush his finger under my chin, "Because you're talented,  Jangmi, and they recognize talent when they see it. Trust me, you wouldn't be here if you weren't good enough."

"Thanks, Jimin," I smiled, "I'm just glad you're here with me. I'd be way more nervous if I didn't know anyone."

"You do know you'll have classes without me, right?" Jimin's chocolate eyes scanned my own with amusement, but I still caught the hint of concern harbored in them.

"Oh no! How will I ever survive a full class period without you?" I joked, earning a chuckle from him.

"It'll be nearly impossible, but I have faith in you." He winked.

I scoffed and nudged his shoulder with my own. "You're the one who texted me all last year about how much you missed me. Now that I'm finally going to the same university as you, you act like I'm the one who needs you more?"

"Hey! I didn't say I missed you that often," Jimin protested.

"Only every other day," I snorted before standing up. "We should get going or we'll end up being the last ones here."

"If you want to stay, I could introduce you to the dancers. I know most of them—"

"That's okay, I'm sure I'll meet them tomorrow," I said quickly, my mind going back to the masked dancer. I felt so overwhelmed and out of place, and I would have been far too intimidated to meet them yet.

"Alright," he shrugged, "Let's go then. Want to grab dinner? I'll show you my favorite spot to eat."

"Sure," I agreed.

The two of us ended up spending the rest of the evening together. Jimin took me to his favorite on-campus restaurant and I was left in awe of how fancy it was. The entire university was extravagant, with towering, castle-like buildings and Gothic architecture. While everything had a historical aura about it, not a single spot was outdated or unkempt. The campus was as prestigious as its reputation.

There was no way my family ever could have afforded the tuition without the scholarship I was offered. Thank God I worked my ass off last year.

After Jimin had worked his way to the top of the dance studio we used to attend together, he got the main solo dance of the biggest showcase that year. There were always scouts attending big performances, and he impressed them enough to be offered the scholarship. Incheon University of Arts was our shared dream school, so when Jimin got in, I knew I needed to follow in his footsteps to earn my spot beside him. And after a year of sore muscles, mental exhaustion, and near-injuries, I managed to do just that.

Being with him again, I felt happier than I had in a long time. We had both made it, and we were on our way to achieving everything we'd ever hoped for, side by side. I was beyond thankful, but I also knew there would be a lot of back-breaking work ahead of us.

Once it got late and Jimin and I grew tired, he walked me to my new dorm. I'd moved in just that morning, and found out I was assigned to a single room and had the small space to myself.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Jimin said as we reached my door. A smile sat on his full lips, a few strands of midnight blue hair falling into his eyes. Most directors didn't mind it, though he did gave to spray it black occasionally.

"We have contemporary together in the morning, right?" I asked, trying to remember my schedule.

"Right. Don't be late," he advised before pulling me into a hug. "Get plenty of rest."

"Yes, mom," I teased. He narrowed his eyes and ruffled my hair before leaving.

The second he was gone, nerves rose up from the pit of my stomach. As much as I wanted to be there, I was terrified of how things would go in the morning—what if I stuck out like a sore thumb among all the elite artists in the school?

Taking a deep breath, I prepared for bed and willed myself to not worry about tomorrow. After changing and brushing my teeth, I sat on the edge of my mattress. Lying on top of the sheet beside me was the program for the showcase. It was a welcome to commence the new school year, and only the students that had stayed to study over summer participated. The most dedicated.

My finger traced over the glossy paper before I picked it up, opening it to see the list of performances. My eyes dropped to the bottom of the page, finding where the last dance was written.

"The Beast"

Performed by Jeon Jungkook

Choreographed by Jung Hoseok

I brushed my thumb over the two names, feeling an odd interest in them. The dance had left an impression on me, both from the story it told and the way it was performed. I wondered if I would be meeting either of them tomorrow.

Sighing, I got under the covers and leaned over to place the program on my bedside table, only to frown when I saw a folded piece of paper already lying there. Setting the program down, I grabbed the paper and unfolded it, my brows furrowing upon the realization that it was a note.

I felt once again like I was drowning, plunging into ice-cold water. Chills ruthlessly tore down my spine as I read the handwritten, cursive words that were scrawled out in red ink.

Jangmi,

I'm so glad you're finally here. I've waited for what feels like forever.

I'm sure you're nervous, but there's no need to be worried.

Rest well. You have a big day ahead.

I look forward to seeing you.

Yours,

✗

• • •

A/N: And so we start our new journey. Let the theories begin!

-Hoseokiiss