It's easy to look at love and and admire it. You'd dreamt about it your whole life, but nothing could have prepared you for the side effects of it, for the fragility of breaking and for the angst of falling.
Around you, even when you hadn't noticed...
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Tuesday. That meant that Jimin and Hoseok; his partner in the crime that is dance, would be going on their weekly roadtrip.
When they got to the bus, the yellow one ofcourse, which was the fastest one, it had been packed to the last corner. So, they had to wait for the next one to come, which was in an hour.
Hoseok couldn't really wait that long for a bus that would may or may not be coming, he had to be back home in the evening, and it would take them alot more than four hours to arrive, that was for sure.
“Man, I think we should move it over to next week” Hoseok said, his eyes glued to the noisy street.
Jimin huffed. He had been looking forward to that for a very long time, he was disappointed to say the least.
“I guess that's the only choice” Jimin's voice was low, but Hoseok could hear the frustration that came out as he spoke.
“Come on Chim, don't be like that” Hoseok's eyes were caring, a comforting hand placed on Jimin's shoulder.
Jimin pushed his hand away, picking up his backpack and hanging it over his shoulder. He turned away, coming to a halt.
“It's okay Hope, I'll get over it” Jimin walked into the street, his body getting lost in the sea of people that were rushing to get to their work.
Jimin had great hopes for that trip. Their routine was on point, their synchronisation, the music, they were ready.
Out of all the days, that was when the stupid bus had to be full?
Maybe he didn't get to perform his well-thought choreography, but Jimin felt an eating urge to dance.
He switched his step, taking the left road. He walked into the dim alleway, opening the heavy door to the studio.
To Jimin's luck, nobody was there. Tuesdays weren't very popular amongst the dancers, especially since most of them were street performers. It was hard for Jimin to do his ballet-based routines when everyone was dancing to hip hop and modern influenced songs, they would judge him. They would think that he wasn't cool, especially since he was a guy. Ballerinos, weren't a good thing on everyone's list.
Jimin threw his bag to the side, taking his denim jacket off and changing into a loose T-shirt.
He took out his flash drive, plugging it into the stereo and standing right in the middle of the room, still as a rock.
The music started, Jimin's body moved with ease, sharp, slow movements. He felt free, loose. His mind was stuck in a dream-like state.
At that moment, all that mattered was what he was doing.
He loved it. He loved it with all of his heart, mind, and soul.
It was only him, him and the music that was blasting loudly into the room. The song he had written, recorded. The lyrics filled with the sorrow of his personal experiences.
The grand finale, that was it.
He stopped, the last note fading into the air.
There was pure silence, the only sound audible in the room was his heavy panting.
His hair was damp, sweat dripping down his forehead, his thin shirt clinging onto his toned abs.
He had gone all out, and when his head shot up, eyes dark, he heard a gasp of surprise and looked up to see the metal door, open ajar.
He tried hard to see, concentrating on the small gap that looked out.
There was a pair of eyes, spying into the room indescretely, and they sure looked familiar.
