"At night when the stars light up my room, I sit by myself, Talking to the Moon."
☾
Lee (Y/N) ─ a college student majoring in the performing arts, more particularly ballet. Reserved, sensitive, and your stereotypical loner, she's not one to talk ─ t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"And for our last act for today, 'The Black Swan' by Lee (Y/N), accompanied by Min Yoongi," the announcer's voice booms through the crackling speakers. You take a deep breath, putting on a pearly smile after nodding to Yoongi. 'I'm ready,' your gaze spoke.
He smiles reassuringly just before you turn forward, the audience clapping in unison as you walk stiffly to center stage. You avoid any eye contact with anybody but the judges, but you're aware of Megan and Hoseok clapping excitedly beyond the stage.
Smiling the prettiest smile you can muster for the judges, anxiety boils in your stomach as you stop, standing not exactly in the middle of stage, but a little bit forward. In the very middle of the stage was a pure white, alabaster-hued grand piano, the instrument shining under the stage light as Yoongi takes a curt seat.
Finally allowing your vision to wander elsewhere, you make eye contact with a certain milky crimson-haired boy, who grins a boxy grin up in the nosebleeds of the seated crowd. Beside of him was Jimin, and about three other men with colored hair you can't quite recognize.
Allowing any consideration of the men to slip your mind, you allow your eyes to wander to Meg and Hoseok down in the middle of the seats. By this time, the clapping has ceased, and you take position as you stare them down nervously. They attempt to both grin toothily to you, as if saying once more "you'll do great, (N/N)."
After glancing to them, your breath is caught in your throat at the people beside of them. Not only are Meg's parents sitting almost proudly beside of her, Mrs. Adams' piercing cat-eyes softened into a motherly condolence, but your parents are right beside of them. Tears threaten to prick your eyes at the sight of them, a flooding sense of happiness smothering the parasite of fear. 'They're here. They're actually here.'
You tear your eyes away from your friends in the crowd and look to the judges, who wait expectantly for the music to begin. Yoongi waits for your cue, a light smile on his face as you glance back to him. You remember your first practice session together, the euphoriayou experienced in just those few short minutes, and suddenly, as you give him a nod to begin playing, it feels as if you and Yoongi are the only people in the room.
He plays it: a C note.
You allow your feet to carry you along, starting your glissade along the front of the stage with leaps and perfectly pointed feet. Yoongi plays his serenade with care and synchronization with your dancing, and you pay no mind to the watchful hawk-eye stares from the three judges past the stage — dancing with Yoongi is all you care about.
You do a simple twirl, the move precise and elegant. Your feathery black skirt shimmers under the bright golden stage light, which follows your dancing figure as you move along to the music carefully. Your wispy fingers take shape across your abdomen as you complete yet another brief spin, ensuring that you had tight arms and strong legs.
