Passion Meets Fear | JiMina

S I X T E E N

"Jimin, I'm proud of you," said Mr. Son. He had a manly, gentle voice which made Jimin feel rather better. The compliment was the cherry on top.

Jimin chuckled, not knowing what to say, also not knowing what to feel. What was his mentor proud for?  He was barely even making an evident improvement. So it made him wonder, confused, and ultimately guilty. He was beginning to overthink as he thought about maybe he was wasting everyone's time—Mr. Son's and Mina's—since they'd been there to watch him do the littlest efforts to love his fear.

There was one thing, though. Jimin never really realized that, as strange as it might sound, his littlest efforts were somehow his best ones.

Everyone was right, maybe it'd take time. But he was getting impatient, wasn't he? For the past few days, he was being too easy on letting frustration eat him up. He was more stressed than ever, though fortunately less anxious. Nevertheless, Mina never said a thing about it. She was almost always just in the corner, sitting, and chanting encouraging words whenever he kept up with the flow. And whenever he messed up, Mina would smile and walk to him, give him a bottle of water before saying this phrase.

Always this phrase, every time: "Breathe, warrior."

Then he'd watch her little figure walk back to the corner. That had always been a sight to see, an act to cherish and to be grateful for. It was almost as though she was his. Well, it felt like it. And of course, that particular momentary dream fell short right away. But it wasn't as hurtful, if anyone asked him, because to have Mina as his friend already meant so much to him.

"Thank you, teacher," he answered in response to Mr. Son's compliment. Frankly he didn't know what to feel. He was an inch closer to being overwhelmed. Delighted, yet guilty. As he bowed, he bit his lower lip in embarrassment, at the same time eagerly hoping that the compliment was genuine. "It's a pleasure to work with you."

He made sure he was the first one to say it. Only because he certainly knew he was genuine. It really was an honor to work with such man, a highly skilled choreographer with years of experience. The reason why he didn't want Mr. Son to utter that praise first went without any word—he would simply feel deceived. Jimin couldn't see a single, logical proof of people being happy working with him now that he developed a ridiculous trauma. He could just imagine their frustration whenever he began to hyperventilate or get nauseous. It was frustrating to him, too.

"I feel the same." Mr. Son flashed a smile before bowing slightly in respect. It was absurd that Jimin intently observed Mr. Son's facial expression, curious to know if he was being true or not. Though his mind told him he was, he still couldn't be sure himself. Yet he found it far too hilarious. "You are a great dancer."

With eyes squinted in the very slightest, Jimin smiled faintly. Mina, noticing it, immediately went closer to rub Jimin's back. He turned his head to the side, seeing a woman who'd always been there for him during one of the most complicated months he ever experienced. She looked tired, probably because she was also dealing with her personal struggles, however the look in her eyes was enough to tell him that she'd not turn her back against him, even if the whole world would.

And they were not even together.

It was Jimin's last day in Mr. Son's dance studio. Surely it felt sad. It was the place where he spent time learning more about himself, and why dancing scared him so much. The random flashbacks of pain and devastation. Those hindered him, almost crippled him and scarred him for the rest of his life. He was most thankful to Mina and Mr. Son, for never getting tired or impatient with his lack of capability to progress quicker and better.

Jimin and Mina silently packed their stuff inside their bags, readied themselves and went to open the exit. But before they could leave, Mr. Son left a piece of advice Jimin would never forget.