Cream Soda~

A bright, tangy orange that links to the reproductive system. Signifies courage and adventurous excitement. An intrepid shade of joy for go-getters, idealists, and positive-thinkers.

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I've decided that I'm going to shift all my belongings to the wall opposite of my neighbor.

With someone containing as competitive a spirit as Costa, leaving my bed pushed up against our shared wall might be utterly dangerous. While I sleep, his energy source will meddle with mine, pocketing my energy to strengthen his own. A slumbering thief prepared only to win. But I won't let him. What looks like paranoia to an outsider might be the difference between first and second.

Moving the bed to the opposite wall was easy enough--my upper body isn't weak at all and my knack of handling objects paid off. After the dresser and nightstand were shifted away from the bad RED wall, my arms were a little tired. Nothing too serious, though. Nothing a little sleep won't get rid of before the first day of training tomorrow.

The television I was forced to leave on the bad side of the room, by his wall. But it's not like I'm going to watch TV anyway.

Coach always tells me if I have free time its to be either spent monitoring my routines, stretching, relaxing my muscles, or doing something that isn't as mind-numbing as watching TV. Whenever my peers would discuss the newest drama on TV or what happened on the news, I would smile and nod, pretending to be in on the secret. In reality, I rarely even touch remotes. When I'm not at the gym or recovering, I'm listening to music.

Music. The most powerful tool in the world. 

If only people could see what it did to their auras, how it transforms them! How it can uplift, motivate, charm, and crush people! Like downing a cappuccino on a drowsy morning, music kickstarts life energy into the body, into the soul. It's fascinating to watch the aura of someone listening to music, and even more interesting to observe that of the musician playing it.

My taste in music lies in classic rock. Something about guitar riffs, drum sets, and the urgent cries of the lead singer have always empowered me. Before all of my competitions, I listen to my iPod to get me prepared. To fire me up. Metallica, Guns N' Roses, Linkin Park, Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden...the list goes on. I've always wanted to learn guitar, but have been too busy to do so because of gymnastics. Someday, when I can no longer flip to get a high, I'll take up guitar.

Someday...

But now I should get going for bed. Drink my red ginseng tea and do my night ritual. I'll have to purify my aura extra tonight, else Costa might get to me.

And he can't get to me.

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Feet bounce against the springs of the floor, launching gymnasts into the air. The heavy thump thump thump from the padded carpet apparatus is like an erratic heartbeat being revived by the energy of its arteries. In this case, the blood pumping during the Road to London camp is fiery, competitive, and filled with longing.

Jungkook jogs and bounds across the floor for warmups. The other men travel along the length of the floor in a straight line, following the commands of the lead trainer. Their personal coaches sit off to the side, watching intently. They do not chat with each other.

"Punch front tucks!" The order rings out into the empty space, filtering into the ears of the leotard-wearers.

Jungkook is wearing his normal blue warm-up leo with a pair of shorts. Some of the other gymnasts wear full length pants around their lower halves, depending on their personal preference. Like Costa, Jungkook likes to have his legs bare for class, revealing his bulked up, powerful legs without the blockade of fabric.

In tandem, the gymnasts hop once and explode into front flips. Even in warmups, they're expected to stick each flip cleanly, with their chests up and knees glued together. The pressure of several pair of eyes on them builds the heavy presence of nerves in the gym. Jungkook can feel the other men around him buzzing with judgment as they front tuck down the strip of floor, side-eyeing the others not so subtly.

"Good. Line up in corners. Round off handspring layout full."

The gymnasts nod their understanding, jogging over to the corners. Jungkook leads the east side of the floor to a corner while their hawk eyes settle on his back, picking apart his every movement. Costa leads the west portion of the floor to the other corner with a bit larger following than Jungkook. Although unspoken, the gym has already created their hierarchy around the two highest scorers, allowing the best to go first.

Costa and Jeon, the kings of the hill.

They stand in corners, staring at each other to determine who tumbles first down the diagonal. Jungkook has been avoiding looking at Costa the entire warmup, afraid that he might lose his focus if bombarded by red. But now he's forced to. And the other male, once again, sprouts that fiery red from every pore of his body.

"Go." Costa mouths, waving the Korean to go.

Without a moment's hesitation, Jungkook pulls his gaze from the male and takes off down the diagonal. His feet push off--step left, right, hurdle!--until his body whips sharply in a roundoff back handspring, launching him with plenty of height for a full-twisting layout. He sticks it cleanly, and out of the corner of his eye he can see his coach's nod of approval. It's a simple tumbling pass, just for warmup purposes, and yet Jungkook just proved that he was willing to go first, fearless in the test of competence in front of his fellow gymnasts.

(his form looked better than this btw ^^^^)

As he jogs into the opposite corner to get into line again, he catches the end of Costa's pass. Instead of the harsh pounding of heels on floor, Costa glides through his roundoff back handspring, body arching beautifully like a maroon butterfly as his chest rotates upside down in a full circle. The stuck landing is a quiet whisper, a light pat of a warm hand on a back. Costa beams, gently saluting to acknowledge his stuck landing.

The auras of onlookers instantly glow murky green with envy...speckle yellow with awe.

"Nice." The head trainer compliments Costa as he jogs to get back in line. Jungkook clenches his jaw, pulling his gaze towards the Japanese gymnast going. He decides to focus on other gymnasts' form rather than recognize the fact that Costa received a compliment and not him.

Kohei Fujimoto from Japan rebounds a little high for the tumbling pass to be perfect. Sebastian Nyugen from Germany does a very clean layout, but his roundoff is a little crooked. Zou Kai from China performs cleanly, his petite body floating through the full twist quickly. Jungkook stares down at his own beefy legs, wondering how slow he rotated on his turn in comparison with some of the smaller gymnasts.

"Next!" The trainer shouts, although he doesn't need to. In the tense silence of light pants and air vents, the training gymnasts would hear him if he whispered. "Change the full to a double twist! Those of you who can pull a triple, pull a triple!"

A deep breath puffs out of Jungkook's mouth. He's first in line again, and everyone knows he can pull a triple. With his taped ankle, rotating three times will definitely twinge the area upon landing, but he has to give it his best shot. Pain or no pain in his foot, he's a competitor and a good twister on floor.

Jungkook launches himself forward, creating a powerful intro tumble before he rises into the air. His entire body stretches into a long line while his arms cross over his chest, hands fisted. His shoulder power twists his body around not once but three times, and he spots the landing before his feet get there.

A small hop on the landing, but otherwise clean.

Jungkook feels pride swell in him at the surprised faces of the other gymnasts at his ability to throw a clean triple-twisting layout on his first pass. Costa's face is straight as ever, his eyes paying attention only to the diagonal strip of blue floor in front of him. Determined, focused.

Right after Jungkook clears the floor to line up in the corner, Costa glides into a smooth roundoff back handspring with feline grace, surging upward and spinning thrice. As the Brazilian spins in the air, Jungkook studies the whirling encasement of mahogany around the flipping male. He gapes at the auric expansion--Costa's aura effortlessly bulges like an inflating lung, surrounding his airborne body.

Costa lands with his ankles touching, chest erect and proud. A stuck landing.

"Nice." The trainer repeats. Costa's coach smiles largely from his spot on a purple chair on the floor's sidelines. Coach Kan scribbles ferociously on his clipboard.

Jungkook must be staring at the Brazilian gymnast for too long, because Costa meets his gaze. Jungkook averts his eyes, but not before he catches the edge of Costa's lip quirk up.

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At lunch time, Jungkook isn't eating with the other gymnasts.

Instead of sitting among lunch tables and munching on food that would make him feel guilty for eating, Jungkook decides to stretch alone in a deserted aerobic studio. Before he stretches, Jungkook robotically shoves a low-cal protein bar down his throat for energy. He barely tastes the thing, gulping down lukewarm water as he stares at himself in the mirror.

Looking a little rough around the edges, Jungkook taps something on his iPod touch before he gets to scrutinizing himself. Music might make him feel a little better before he gets to examining the breaks in his aura. The harsh drumming of The Memory Remains by Metallica blares in his earbuds. He bobs his head methodically, catching the offbeat crash cymbals as they ring out.

The mirror responds to his distracted gaze, only showing him a selective portion of his auric field. He sighs, eyes trailing over chalky clothes and tousled hair from bar conditioning.

His aura is weak from fatigue, streaked with the subtle reds of irritation and the normal fuzz of black wavering around his midsection. The tired muscles of his calves are dull instead of energetic, and his head sprouts grayish plants from the temples, harbingers of doubt to come. After tossing a flimsy mat onto the hardwood floor of the studio, he rolls onto his back. Turns up the volume on his iPod. He doesn't want to see any more of Costa's damage. He needs to take the time to heal himself, to regain a portion of his confidence back.

Closing his eyes, he hugs his ankles into his chest, stretching his glutes and hamstrings. He inhales deeply, holding the fresh mat smell in his chest cavern before releasing. This calming action is repeated while guitars blaze through his ears. The breaths ease the stiff tension in his body while the guitars generate powerful tension.

Jungkook's dual therapy of relaxation involves removal of negative aura through deep breathing, accompanied with energy replacement. In his case, he draws his strength from an MP3 blasting English lyrics of greed and glamor. He can't understand half of the words, but he can feel the genuine passion of the song, can feel the soars and crashes of melody and relate to the hardship expressed.

Before he knows it, his lips are moving. Aloud he sings the words he knows, humming over the areas of the song he doesn't, tapping his head to the rock and stretching his body to the roll.

No longer is he at gymnastics camp but in a small, crowded arena. Standing in a mosh pit. Excited faces surround him, their everyday black auras lifted to an impassioned yellow as they scream along to the band in cuffed tees and torn pants. Jungkook fits right into their pained strobe light dance, the black aura around his torso nearly disappearing. As they jump jump jump in ecstasy to the untamed riffs of guitars, Jungkook gets chosen. His body is suddenly being lifted up by the feverish, touchy hands of a savages who have been freed, dragging him, dragging him towards the stage. Tossing him, tossing him, shaking him-

"Jeon!"

Jungkook's eyes peel open. He blinks a few times, confused. Coach Kan is standing over his sprawled form on the mat, hands on his hips. A nasty curl is present on his thin lips.

"What are you doing napping in here! Why aren't you at lunch right now!"

The Korean Gymnast tears his earbuds out, the din of a drum set falling into his lap. "I was...I was stretching out. I already ate something and thought that my muscles were a little tight, couldn't be too stiff for the afternoon rings drills-"

"Jeon!" Coach Kan scoffs at his explanation, toeing the wrapper of the protein bar that sits under the gymnast's water bottle. "You should be out with the other teammates! Get up, get up! Are you trying to alienate yourself?"

The gymnast crumples his knotted earbuds into his hand. He quickly shakes out his hair, tossing the mat he was on back into its spot. "No, I'm not...I was just stretching-"

"Go eat lunch."

Coach Kan picks up Jungkook's steel water bottle for him, pushing it into his chest. In his other hand, the wrapper of the single granola bar gets crumpled by a retributive fist. Jungkook licks his lips, nodding wordlessly. He exits the aerobic studio with a swaying step, avoiding his coach's gaze in the mirror. His stomach churns during his walk to the cafeteria, his blue Adidas shoes clomping in the hallway. Coach Kan isn't following him, but Jungkook can feel the man's watchful eyes on his back. Making sure he doesn't flake out and turn into a different room to 'stretch out his hamstrings.'

Thankfully, as he enters the cafeteria only about half of the gymnasts remain. The other half have finished their meals and must have left to either lounge in the dorms or consult with a camp planner before their rings exhibition. To his great relief, Leonardo Costa is no where to be seen.

There is no line as Jungkook steps up to the deserted salad bar, filling a cardboard tray only partially with salad. A lean, seasoned chicken breast gets placed onto his tray by the friendly attendant behind the counter. Jungkook smiles at her, bowing in gratitude, knowing he won't eat more than half of it.

After his tray is occupied by low-calorie, lean foods, Jungkook turns to study the layout of the cafeteria. Round, blue eight-seater tables take up a large portion of the room. Male gymnasts infest the tables nearest the paned windows, where yellow sunlight spills onto their open, chattering faces. Jungkook recognizes most of them from competitions, but doesn't care for the camaraderie enough to say hi. Instead, he follows where his intuition takes him, towards a sparsely-populated table in the back corner of the room.

Only Kohei Fujimoto sits there, picking at his veggies, mainly spaced out. Jungkook plops down across from the slightly nervous aura of the Japanese man, grinning at him.

"Konnichi wa." Jungkook begins, greeting the regular competitor with a slight bow of the head. His Japanese is probably as good as his English is, which isn't the best, but it might be nice to share something unique with Kohei since his aura is true and innocent. Completely opposite of Costa's, the Japanese gymnast sports a royal blue field with flecks of nervous tan.

Kohei's face brightens a little as he forks some steamed vegetables into his mouth. Jungkook pokes around at his salad, aware of the way his torso's magnetic force seems to push the leafy greens away. Nevertheless, he forces them into his mouth and chews.

"Hello, Jeon Jungkook. Nice to see you here." Kohei speaks in slow Japanese for him to understand. The Korean gymnast continues to mechanically pile salad into his mouth. "How are you liking it here?"

Jungkook bites down harshly on the plastic fork, instantly removing it from his mouth. "I like the place. Do you?"

Kohei tilts his head to the side, briefly glancing over by the windows. "It's intense. I'm a bit nervous for the rest of the 6-week period."

"Me too." Jungkook reveals, trying a bite of the chicken. It tastes too salty, over seasoned with flakes of green and brown. He would spit it out, but since he has company the piece of meat gets swallowed. "What room are you staying in?"

"Room 322." Kohei says, also showing the number on his fingers. "I'm close by the elevators. What about you? You have to be pretty high up. 334?"

"No." Jungkook furrows his brows, staring at the space between Kohei's temples. At Jungkook's answer, the birth of confusion melts into his field. "I'm in 333. But you were close. How did you know?"

Kohei's eyes fall to his now empty tray. He takes a sip of hot water from a green thermos. "My coach told me they gave out rooms by ranking. Lowest scorers start at 300...and there are 34 gymnasts total...so..."

"Oh." Jungkook understands, losing his already weak appetite. "Leonardo Costa is in room 334. I'm in 333..." He trails off, running a quick hand over his hair. Kohei purses his lips, and they both nod at the mention of the Brazilian. They both know his skill, realize his talent.

Costa's top spot doesn't sit well with the other gymnasts, who have always felt envious of his natural talent to make gymnastics look so effortless. For the other gymnast, Leonardo Costa is like a torchbearer being closely pursued by men wielding overflowing buckets of water. They'll follow him like their life depends on it, watching his form and understanding everything there is to know about torchbearing...until their time comes to dump the water on the fire and steal the spotlight for themselves. Smiles and encouragement from the sidelines are niceties for the jealous, who'd be more pleased to see their teammates get injured or stumble even if they don't show it. Predatory, some might say, in a sport that judges based on aesthetic appeal...to hunt the most beautiful animals in the kingdom so the second-best can take the throne.

Jungkook pushes his tray away from himself, the murky cloud surrounding his stomach agitated with the new presense of unwanted calories.

"Well..." He starts, cracking the knuckles in both hands with rapid succession. "By the end of six-weeks I hope to be in room 334."

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note from authAURA~

hello!

FYI, some of the gymnasts' names in this story are legit people who exist just like Jeon Jungkook! Others are mix-and-match first and last names of gymnasts in their field, for example, like Kohei Fujimoto. By including these people I don't mean to demean them in any way or poke fun of their talent or skill. This is a work of fiction! Okay, thanks. :)

I hope you go on a cream soda adventure today! Have a sweet one. love u. <3

Izzy.