Ch9: Who You Are

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Jimin takes in a deep breath and lets it out, attentive as he waits for the music to start. A soft slow tone begins, and he takes a step with it, after another slow one. He gently throws one arm in the air, followed by the other and he tilts his head, body moving with the steps he's done way too many times that he can do now with eyes closed.

He can feel the sweat trickling down his hot body, his steady heartbeats in sync with the background music, endorphin rushing through his system as he turns around, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He studies his movements, head moving to one side then body following in a body roll. He feels his teacher's eyes on him, finger on her chin in concentration as she slowly nods in approval, scanning him up and down, furrowing her eyebrows when it comes to that one step he always messes up, but when he does it smoothly and goes on, a proud smile morphes itself onto the middle-aged woman's face, making Jimin instinctively smile in return.

He throws his head back and closes his eyes, and for a mere second he thinks he feels a tear bimmering in his eye, and he quickly blinks it away, falling down to his knees rythymatically as the music comes to an end, and Jimin stays on the floor with a fast beating heart and quick breaths.

He looks down at his hands, realisation hitting him that he now knows the whole dance. Not to mention he's mastering it. A small smile forms on his plump lips, his heart fluttering as a small voice in the back of his head tells him it's proud of him.

A clap pulls Jimin out of his trance. Looking up, he sees Mrs.Kim clapping her hands together with a grin on her face.

"Marvellous, Jimin," She says, walking closer to him. "That was fascinating."

Jimin grins proudly, standing up to his feet. "It's all thanks to you."

"As much as I hate to admit it, it's all thanks to you," She points a slim finger at him and turns around sassily.

Jimin chuckles at that, knowing his teacher too well. After all, she's been teaching him ever since he started dancing. Mrs.Kim is an elegant wealthy forty-something year old woman. Although about the age of Jimin's mother, she likes to be treated like any young lady in her twenties. Her ego is too big, so compliments from her are rare, and she's very proud of her dancing teaching skills, even more proud of her dancing. Back in her day, Kim Hyejung was one of the best ballerinas in Seoul, if not in the whole country. But an inury due to a car crash lead her to never be able to dance again. Hyejung wasn't one to quit something she loves as much as dancing, so after years of physiotherapy and treatment, she resorted to teaching dance, since dancing on stage again was almost impossible.

Jimin was one of her very first students for his mother was a good friend of her's, and she watched him grow up in front of her eyes. Yes, she doesn't like giving compliments, and it's one of the reasons why most students who come to her quit because of her "crushing words", but not Jimin. She saw something in him that she didn't see in anyone else, and it almost reminded her of herself. The boy has it within him, whatever it is.

"Mrs.Kim," Jimin calls, sitting back down on the floor to rest, "Why did you choose me for the solo performance?"

The woman turns to him with a raised eyebrow, "Excuse you?"

"I mean," He pauses, "Why... me?"

Her red lipstick covered lips etch into a smirk. "I don't know, you tell me."

Jimin thinks. "Because I'm good?"

"Good?" She repeats, almost offended as her voice goes an octave higher. "Don't you think good is way too shallow?"

Jimin shrugs, looking down at his hands.

"You know, Jimin," Mrs.Kim says, sitting down on a bench and crossing one leg over the other, "I remember when I first met you. You were this adorable chubby six year old."

Jimin groans, burrying his face in his hands.

"Your mother said you wanted to dance," She continues, "She, too, was a great ballerina."

"Not better than me, for sure," She adds quickly with a playful smile and Jimin laughs.

"And I thought I was doing it as a favour for the years of friendship your mother and I shared," She says, "But I saw your eyes shining when I showed you a few steps, your mouth falling in excitement and you kept on jumping in place. Your mother would come with you and stay until you were done, and whenever you learned a new move you would turn to her and yell an adorable 'mommy look!"

Jimin laughs again at the bitter-sweet memory, small hand on his mouth as he throws his head back, tears unknowingly bimmering in his eyes again.

Mrs.Kim smiled widely at the way too familiar laughter.

"And I remember that day," Her voice goes softer, her eyes growing sadder, "When you learned a new move and she wasn't there. I remember when tears fell down your face and you tried your best to hold them back."

"Then you turned to me," She says in a low whisper, voice shaking, "And with the most broken smile I've ever seen on a child you said, 'Mrs.Kim, look!'"

Jimin stays silent, hand still on his mouth but he's not laughing anymore. His face is almost expressionless, except for the sad smile on his lips and the tear he didn't realize had fallen.

"You have potential I haven't seen in any of my students," Mrs.Kim says, carefully dapping at her eyes with her fingers, "And I know where you got it from. And I want you to keep it. Never lose that passion. It makes you who you are, darling."

Jimin nods violently, furiously rubbing at his eyes. Mrs.Kim smiles, walking up to him and ruffling his hair before walking away. Jimin knows how un-affectionate the woman is, so that small gesture makes him smile back again.

He clears his throat, racking his brains for another topic.

"How's your son, Mrs.Kim?" He finally asks, blinking away the remnants of the warm liquid in his eyes.

The woman sighs at the mention of her son, turning around to Jimin with a frown.

"He doesn't go to therapy anymore, which I'm glad of, but he's still closed up and all. Never tells me a thing. You know how it is." She shakes her head, eyes staring into the distance before she fixes her gaze on Jimin. "You haven't seen him in a while. How long has it been?"

"About four years," He replies.

"You need to meet up again, both of you," She says, finger rubbing her painted nails out of habit, "He really needs a friend like you. He's been hanging out with some shady man with tattoos who's older than him. I know they've been friends for a while, but that man gives off unsophisticated drug addict vibes. I'm only allowing him to meet him because he's his only friend and the therapist said he needs to go out more."

She ends her words with a sigh, shaking her head. "I just want him to he happy again."

Jimin smiles with a nod. "I hope so, too."

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