The second round of the National Dance Competition was in two weeks, and somehow, a whole week had already slipped by in a blur.

Daniel, being Daniel, refused to sit still and recover. To the distress of Ben, Terrence, Kai, and Sean, he was already dancing.

As usual, a small crowd had gathered at the edge of the studio, mostly Daniel’s loyal admirers, buzzing with questions and concern.

“Sunbaenim! Is your ankle okay now?”

Daniel turned to them with his usual easy grin. “Much better, don’t worry!”

One girl stepped forward, a crease of worry between her brows. “You’re still limping a little,” she spoke with concern. “You should rest for a few more days.”

Daniel sighed in melodramatic distress. “You’re far too sweet! I don’t want to see your pretty face twisted with worry.” He winked. “I’m really better now.”

The girl flushed, but was quickly pushed aside by another girl who stepped in. With a flutter of lashes straight out of a seductive anime, she purred, “Why don’t you stay at my place for a few days, sunbaenim? I’ll ‘personally’ take care of you.”

All four of Daniel’s friends turned slowly to look at her.

Daniel, of course, missed the implications entirely. He gave the girl a bright smile. “That’s such a touching offer! But I’d hate to trouble you.”

Before the girl could protest, a guy stepped forward, a smug smirk playing at his lips. “If you're looking for peace, sunbae, I’ve got an apartment, and I live ‘alone’.”

Kai choked slightly and shifted uncomfortably, the weight of that implication landing like a brick.

Terrence raised an eyebrow and muttered, “At this point, he needs a bodyguard.”

Ben, who had been watching from the side, curled his hands into fists. The guy’s gaze was too lingering and way too obvious. The thought of Daniel being approached like that while he was still recovering made something cold coil inside him.

Daniel blinked before waving a hand cheerfully. “Oh, that’s very kind, but I’ve got my own apartment too. And these guys—” he gestured grandly to Terrence, Ben, Kai, and Sean “—drop by all the time to check in on me. I feel so loved.”

There were a few giggles and murmurs, some flirtatious, some disappointed, before the crowd slowly dispersed, leaving Daniel mercifully unmolested.

Terrence narrowed his eyes. “Do you enjoy giving everyone anxiety?”

Daniel let out a sob that deserved an Oscar. “How could you say that? I’m on your team! How can I rest while my precious teammates suffer?”

“You have a severe ankle sprain, you maniac,” Terrence deadpanned.

Daniel sighed, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. “Ahhh, what am I to do with such a cruel child?”

“Stubborn idiot,” Terrence muttered.

Ben laughed. For all his sharp words, Terrence clearly cared. 

Despite everything, Daniel’s chaotic and loud energy filled the room like always and was impossible to ignore.

Sean had started showing up more consistently, his quiet presence like a calm shadow haunting the edges of the studio. The more they practiced with him, the clearer it became that he was professionally trained, though he rarely said much. He just observed, rehearsed, and moved with ease.

Naturally, Daniel couldn’t resist pestering him.

One evening, he slung an arm over Sean’s shoulder and grinned. “Tell me, my mysterious admirer, was it ballet or contemporary? You’re far too precise to be a mere amateur.”

Sean swatted his arm away. “You look trained, too, especially in modern dance. You’ve definitely had professional instruction.”

Daniel lit up, always eager to talk about dance. “Of course, I do. Eomeoni’s a professional modern dancer. She’s been training me since I was three.”

Ben’s jaw dropped. “You’ve had actual training? I thought you just picked up some moves from her!”

Sean nodded, a little surprised. “That explains your skills. I’ve seen Eomeonim’s choreos. They’re distinct, especially the way she fuses hip-hop with modern dance.”

Daniel puffed up with pride. “Naturally. She’s a modern dancer who refused to limit herself to a single style. Her work reflects her versatility.”

Both Ben and Sean nodded, impressed. However, at that very moment, a loud scream cut through their conversation.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.”

All heads turned toward Kai, who had flopped on the floor like a labrador in distress, clutching his phone like a lifeline.

“This round is evil! ¿Cómo pueden ser tan crueles?” he moaned, pretending to faint. “They want us to learn, like, SEVEN dance clips in a couple of hours. That’s criminal.” [How can they be so cruel?"]

Ben glided over and peered at the phone. The NDC had just posted the updated rules for the memory round.

– Seven different 30-second Idol dance videos are to be learned and performed in two hours.

Ben blinked. 

This wasn’t his first competition, but it was definitely the first that felt this high-stakes.

Terrence, Sean, and Daniel remained completely unfazed.

“What did you expect?” Terrence said flatly. “It’s a national-level contest. They want the best of the best. If you can’t display extraordinary skill, there’s no point.”

Ben gulped. He’d never seen himself as exceptional. He just loved dancing. Memorization under pressure wasn’t his strong suit.

Daniel caught the look on Ben’s face. “Don’t worry, Ben-ah!” he called brightly from across the room. “We’ve got a week. I’ll turn you into a masterpiece.”

Ben’s eyes widened in horror. “Hyung, you’re a sadist! I know that gleam in your eye. I don’t want to become a ghost that haunts this studio!”

Daniel gasped in theatrical outrage. “How could you accuse me of such cruelty?”

“Because I know the demon you are,” Ben muttered darkly.

Sean, surprisingly, added, “I’d like to practice along with Ben.”

Ben groaned. “Great. Now he’s recruited another victim.”

Terrence chimed in. “Memorizing isn’t the hard part; executing is.”

And so began the Reign of Terror.

Daniel’s version of “practice” involved showing them a thirty-second video, giving them ten minutes to learn it, then demanding a perfect performance, rinse and repeat.

What was terrifying was how Daniel remembered every move, every detail, and expected nothing less from them.

After three hours of this torment, even Sean’s expressionless face had taken on a ghostly pallor.

Ben lay flat on the studio floor beside Kai, who looked like his soul had left his body. 

Sean huffed, exhausted. “I see what you mean now. He is a sadist.”

Ben let out a lifeless laugh. “When it comes to dancing, hyung doesn’t just go hard; he loses his mind.”

Sean just sighed. Kai remained unresponsive. Terrence sipped water with trembling hands.

Daniel beamed. “That’s all for today! We’ll continue tomorrow. You all did okay.”

Terrence and Sean looked ready to commit homicide. Kai looked close to committing self-homicide.

And yet,  Ben found himself smiling. That was the unrelenting, passionate, and annoying Daniel he knew. He’d been worried that the injury might affect him too deeply. But if anything, Daniel seemed even more determined.

Kai, Terrence, and Sean bolted from the studio like they were fleeing the ghost of Christmas Past.

Ben stayed behind to pack up when he noticed Daniel standing in front of the mirror. He was still, eyes closed. 

After a moment, he started dancing. Ben was about to tell him to stop when he realised what he was watching.

Daniel was going through all twenty routines they had practiced that day. His movements were controlled and less explosive, but his precision was flawless.

He remembered everything.

Ben stood stunned.

As the last routine ended, Daniel collapsed onto the floor, his legs trembling violently.

“Hyung!”

Ben rushed over, but Daniel was grinning like a child.

“Gibuni neomu joa,” he whispered. “Fifteen days, and I finally danced.” [I feel great.]

Ben helped him sit. “Don’t push yourself. No one else at the NDC has your talent. You don’t need to prove anything.”

Daniel laughed, throwing his head back. “You say that, but the world’s full of talent. I can’t afford to slack.”

Ben looked at his face, so open and filled with joy, and felt a strange ache. 

“Hyung,” he said gently, “There’s more to the world than dancing—”

Daniel cut in. “If it doesn’t have dance, it’s meaningless to me.”

Ben’s chest tightened. Something about Daniel’s refusal to see anything outside his tunnel vision hurt in a way Ben didn’t fully understand.

He said softly. “If you only look in one direction, you’ll miss out a lot.”

Daniel’s eyes opened slowly, and he looked at Ben, genuinely puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Ben didn’t know. All he knew was that he wanted Daniel to break out of that bubble before it swallowed him whole.

“This world,” he started, hesitant, “is both ugly and beautiful. Dance is part of it. But without the people, the experience, the memories, the good and the bad, even dance would lose meaning.”

Daniel stared at him blankly. 

Ben sighed and changed the subject. “Come on. Let’s go before security kicks us out.”

Daniel sprang up, or tried to. His leg gave out, and he collapsed directly onto Ben. Normally, it wouldn’t have been a big deal. But recently, everything around Daniel has become complicated.

Ben’s heart rate spiked. His face flushed. 

Daniel groaned. “Mianhae, mianhae, my leg.” [Sorry]

Ben clenched his jaw, forcing his voice to stay level. “It’s fine.”

He helped Daniel up, and as they walked out together under the night sky, Ben found himself asking silently:

Why is this happening every time he is near Daniel?