fifteen

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somehow, you were a better dancer than her.

by the time you taught her the dance you had choreographed recently, it was almost nine o'clock. so you walked back together.

"unnie, you're going to be the main dancer of the group,"

"you think so?"

"mhm,"

you couldn't help but hope it was true.

The Color Pink; Hirai MomoWhere stories live. Discover now