beg • woosan (book 2)

23

filler update not edit

The walls of the dance academy's conference room felt like they were closing in on Wooyoung as he stood before the director, Ms. Lee. She was known for her strict but fair management style, and the look of disappointment etched on her face made Wooyoung's situation seem all the more dire.

"Mr. Jung," Ms. Lee began, her voice calm but firm, "your actions towards Mr. Hendery, the guardian of one of our students, were entirely out of line. Physical altercations have no place in this academy. We're here to foster a safe and nurturing environment for our students and their families. What sort of example are we setting if our instructors cannot control their tempers?"

Wooyoung felt a knot forming in his stomach. "I deeply regret my actions," he managed to say. "It was a lapse in judgment, and I assure you it will not happen again. I am prepared to apologize to Mr. Hendery and to take responsibility for the consequences of my actions."

Ms. Lee pursed her lips, clearly weighing her options. "This type of misconduct cannot go unpunished, Wooyoung. You are an excellent instructor, but I cannot overlook this. I am considering termination, but given your otherwise exemplary record, I am inclined to give you a final warning. Should anything of this sort happen again, you will be immediately dismissed."

Wooyoung bowed his head, a mixture of relief and shame washing over him. "Thank you for this opportunity to make amends, Ms. Lee. I won't let you down."

"See that you won't," Ms. lee replied. "Now go and apologize to Mr. Hendery. I expect nothing less than a sincere and professional demeanor from you."

After the meeting, Wooyoung found Hendery waiting outside the conference room, a self-satisfied grin on his face. "I bet now you regret messing with me," Hendery taunted, his voice a low, mocking drawl.

Wooyoung took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. He knew he had to rise above the provocation. "Mr. Hendery, I want to apologize for my behavior. It was inexcusable, and I assure you it won't happen again. I hope we can move past this for the sake of your ward and the academy."

Hendery's grin faded slightly, replaced by a look of surprise. Perhaps he had expected Wooyoung to react with more hostility. Without another word, Hendery turned and left, leaving Wooyoung to reflect on the hard lesson he had learned.

Wooyoung's strides echoed in the hallway , He silently passed Mingi without so much as a glance, his former friend's presence a reminder of unwanted meddling. Wooyoung had his issues, sure, but he was convinced he could handle them on his own. Mingi's concerned looks and unsolicited advice were the last things he needed.

Upon entering his studio, Wooyoung let the familiarity of the space wash away the tension from the meeting. He shook off the remnants of the confrontation with Hendery and the stern words from Ms. lee, focusing instead on the task at hand: the final practice before their show in two days.

The studio slowly filled with the rhythmic tapping of feet and the buzz of excited chatter as the students arrived. Wooyoung greeted each one with a warm smile, the professional mask firmly in place. He did his attendance, noting that Mina was absent. It was unlike her to miss practice, especially so close to a performance.

The class began, and Wooyoung's eyes swept over his students, correcting postures and encouraging smiles. Yet, a part of his mind was preoccupied with Mina's absence, hoping it wasn't San's doing—or worse, that nothing serious had happened.

Midway through a routine, the door to the studio burst open, and San hurried in with Mina trailing behind him. She darted to the locker room, while San offered a flustered apology to the class. Wooyoung's sharp gaze cut through the commotion, signaling San to step outside for a word.

They stood in the hallway, the clamor of the studio muffled by the closed door. Wooyoung's voice was low and controlled, a stark contrast to the energy of the dance floor. "Why were you late?" he asked, his tone more of a demand than a question.

San shuffled, his usual confidence deflated under Wooyoung's scrutiny. "Um, my bad," he managed, the words inadequate even to his own ears.

Wooyoung's expression softened just a hair, "Just a warning," he said, though the air between them remained charged with an unspoken tension.

San, driven by a mix of concern and defensiveness, pushed back. "Whatever you have against me, don't take it out on Mina."

Wooyoung frowned, a hint of confusion in his eyes, leaning in closer as if drawn by some invisible force. "What do I have against you?" His whisper was like silk, eyes alluring and probing, searching for something within San."We have a problem?"

San's mind raced, recalling Mingi's words, and guilt surged through him. Wooyoung had suffered a panic attack, and San feared he was the cause. "You had a panick attack after our talk yesterday..." he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, matching Wooyoung's intensity.

Wooyoung's gaze shifted to the classroom window, where their students were practicing, their movements now unsupervised and slowly falling out of sync. "I should go back," he murmured, making to turn away.

San's hand shot out, almost of its own accord, latching onto Wooyoung's wrist with a gentle firmness. "Stop always running away from me?" There was a raw edge to San's voice, a mix of frustration and worry that spoke volumes. Wooyoung's recent episode—the panic attack—loomed over them, an uninvited shadow. Wooyoung had tried to mask it, to bury it under a facade of indifference; he wanted to pretend it had never happened, attributing it to stress, to anything but San.

"I should've said it before but I'm not using you," San continued, his gaze locked onto Wooyoung, seeking to bridge the distance that had formed between them, not just in that corridor but over the weeks prior.

Wooyoung's eyes, for a moment, held a flicker of vulnerability. "I have a class, San," he started, his tone softening—an attempt to maintain professionalism. Yet something compelled him to add, "I'll chat with you," as if those words were a lifeline for them both.

San released his grip. Wooyoung, in a gesture that felt like a silent promise, took San's hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back gently. "I'll remind you," San said, a small smile fighting through his concern.

Wooyoung responded with an assurance that was meant to comfort but also to deflect. "Don't worry about that, or think too much about it. Mingi was being overdramatic," he said, releasing San's hand and stepping away, back to the world where he was in control, back to his class.

San watched him go, the tension easing out of his shoulders with the breath he exhaled—a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. As Wooyoung disappeared into the studio, San was left alone, his mind inevitably drifting to the call with Mingi. Despite Wooyoung's reassurances, San knew that whatever Mingi had said, whatever had transpired between them, had indeed been significant. The weight of it all pressed down on him, mingling with the lingering warmth of Wooyoung's lips on his skin, a bittersweet reminder of the complexities of their connection.