Ara's POV
There are three kinds of people on performance day. One... The Excited: They jump out of bed like they've been summoned by Beyoncé herself. Second The Focused: Calm, collected, and possibly psychotic. And the last, third The Me: A floating spirit wrapped in chiffon, overthinking every step of a 3-minute routine that could determine her social survival.
I belonged to category 3. Clearly.
I sat on the edge of my bed in a long, flared white chiffon dress with sleeves that made me feel like a floating auntie at a fairy wedding. My hair was as always simple but with a bun today, and my soul disoriented.
Today was the sample performance—
a pre-audition in front of the school's top dance professionals. I was supposed to dance with my mysteriously assigned partner. The same partner who, by the way, hadn't shown up once during rehearsals.
Medical leave, the instructor had said.
Medical leave my foot.
Medical leave was invented by cowards who ghosted girls during dance season.
Leave this.
My heart thudded. Not in the romantic "oh someone touched my hand" way. It thudded like it wanted to jump out and sprint away.
Everyone was saying "beleive me Ara! Kai will be perform with you! In front of everyone!"
Flashback —
"Oh really!"
"Yah, you know boys have there own senses, they will tell what's the other boy is thinking right now..."
"Are you sure? I mean he hadn't shown in any rehearsals..."
"I know but I also know Our Kai... 201%... He.will.come. Mark my words."
Flashback over—
Words my foot.... They all are behaving like servants of Mrs. Kai. Is this is a k-drama or something that he'll jump on the stage mid performance and join me.
Whatever...
In the car
"Liza, what if I mess up?" I whispered, clutching the hem of my dress like it was an emotional support animal.
"You won't," she replied without looking away from her phone.
"But—"
"If you mess up, at least fall gracefully," she added. "People like drama."
"Wow. Thank you. That helps so much. Really feeling the support."
She rolled her eyes. "Just don't faint."
Oh. Oh, I was definitely going to faint.
What a prediction.
And at school, The auditorium was glowing—lights bright enough to blind a planet, sound echoing like we were in a judgment stadium.
Section after section performed. 11 Emerald, 11 Coral, 11 Flame, 11 Nova...
People danced like they were born spinning. Couples twirled and dipped and glided. There were dramatic lifts and emotional ballads. One girl even burst into tears mid-performance and got a standing ovation.
Meanwhile, I sat there like a half-baked croissant, waiting for my name to be called.
And waiting.
And waiting.
AND WAITING.
My section—11 Sage—was the very last.
I swear the organizers had a personal grudge against me. Like, "Let's put the anxious girl with a sprained ankle and a missing partner at the END. Just for fun."
I sat in my seat, hyperventilating into my sleeve. My brain started shutting down like a phone on 2%.
And then...
I fell asleep.
Yup. Right there. In my pretty little dress, on the plastic chair, in front of everyone. Gone. Dreaming about dancing with a wall again. Not even a wall.
"Excuse me—Ara Rao Reyes?"
My eyes flew open.
"HUH.... WHO DIED!"
A volunteer was standing over me, blinking awkwardly. "Your name is going to called so be ready."
"HUH—OH WHAT—WHERE—"
I stood up so fast my neck cracked.
People stared. A lot of people.
"What happened Ray?" Sammie asked.
"Nothing.." I replied and left.
I panic-sprinted to the washroom. Splashed cold water on my face. Stared at my reflection.
"Okay, Ara. You're alive. Your partner's dead. But you—you are alive. You can do this. You'll dance solo. You'll cry after. It's fine. We're fine. Everything is fine."
Spoiler alert: nothing was fine.
Somehow I stepped on stage. And then...
Lights. Blinding lights. I'm going to blind after performance. Nothing else.
My name echoed again.
I walked to the center of the stage, alone, a flared white dress moving behind me like I was the ghost of bad decisions.
The music started. With a melody.
[Do you remember the game we won?
After that you weren't shown...
But I don't know, you own my soul...]
I danced.
Alone.
Every spin tugged at my ankle. Every beat made my heart race faster. My arms moved like I was telling a story only I understood. You know na– code language.
[Just a little bit of you makes my life...
I always see you in sunrise...]
Verse 1 started... I'm nervous... Judges are Confused why I'm dancing alone... Actually...
THIS IS THERE FAULT ONLY!
[Your laughter drips from empty air...
And I still remember your faded inner layer...
Can you come to buy coffee their?]
Argh... My ankle was not fully recovered so yah, I missed Rhythm so I missed a step also.
Wait—WHAT?!?!?
Someone was coming on stage...
[Love like smoke, it slips too fast,
Still I breathe it like it lasts...
Still I wish I could've asked...]
Footsteps.
What. The. Hell.
A boy walked onto the stage like it was his story.
White oversized T-shirt. Red wine-colored cargo pants. Silver chain catching the stage light. Calm as the moon.
Who… who the hell was that?
He didn't even hesitate—just slipped into rhythm with me like he'd been there all along. Like the stage was his backyard and this dance was his warm-up.
[Chorus - Should we drink a coffee nearby?
Sit in silence like we used to try
Let the world pass in blurry light...
Pretend we never said goodbye...
Should we drink a coffee nearby?
Nearby....]
I tried not to scream. My mind was in crisis.
We danced. Together.
[White roses fall in silent grace...
Can you should buy me that?
White Roses.... In the Train?
Still your silver chain hit me like a breeze or Rain...]
And he—he fixed me. When I missed a turn, he gently nudged my arm into place. When I forgot a beat, he stepped forward and made me remember. It was like we shared a brain. Or he hacked mine.
[Huh...huh...huhuhhh... Huhhhuuhuhh...]
And then it was over.
Applause. A lot of applause.
I didn't even smile.
I grabbed his wrist and pulled him off stage like a woman on a mission..
And...On the Backstage...."What the ACTUAL PIECE OF TOAST just happened?!"
The boy looked at me.
"I—"
"NO! Don't you dare 'I' me right now. WHO ARE YOU?! What kind of prank is this?!"
He blinked.
"I SAID WHO ARE YOU. Name. Roll number. Blood type. And... Why do you dress like an underground rapper who moonlights as a magician?!"
He lifted one eyebrow. "Uhh…"
I stepped closer, finger waving in circles. "You—! You just SHOW UP mid-performance like....b.In your blood-colored trousers and silver necklace and silky hair and then what? You steal my spotlight? Hijack my routine? I'm already too stressed and you!! "
He smiled.
Bad idea.
"You think this is FUNNY?! Is this FUNNY to you?! Because I was on the verge of emotional collapse five minutes ago—my ankle was dying—I was solo-dancing my way to shame—and you waltz in like some... some... mysterious dance giraffe!"
He laughed. Actually laughed. That type of laugh in which we see teeth.
"OH, IT'S ON NOW," I shrieked. "You're gonna tell me your name before I throw my shoe at your skull!"
Still smiling, he said, "Kai."
I blinked. "Kai what?"
"Ethan Kai Rylan. 11 Sage."
I stared at him.
"Kai. Like… Kai who never came to practice?"
"Yeah. That's me."
"OH I AM GOING TO SCREAM. LEAVE BEFORE YOUR SKULL BROKE!"
I actually did scream. Like a fire drill in human form.
"YOU—YOU'RE KAI?! THE GUY WHO GHOSTED THE DANCE PRACTICE?! YOU'RE REAL?! I THOUGHT YOU WERE A MYTH. AN ILLUSION. A DELUSION INVENTED BY OUR INSTRUCTOR TO COVER UP HER FAILURES!"
He chuckled again. "Sorry." With cute puppy eyes.
"NO. YOU DON'T GET TO BE CUTE AND SAY SORRY."
"You think I'm cute?"
"SHUT UP."
He raised both hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. Listen—I was on medical leave. Legit. Hepatitis B you know. Couldn't get out of bed. I'm so irritated by that."
I narrowed my eyes.
"I came once, but you weren't there. Instructor said you left early. So I asked her for the choreography you prepared, made a video, and practiced everything at home."
...
Silence.
He waited.
I stared.
And then: "Oh."
"Yeah."
"So you… did practice?"
"Yeah."
"Didn't just improvise your way through that?"
"Nope. I learned your exact steps. All credit goes to you."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
I took a deep breath. "Fine. You're forgiven."
He grinned. "You were very fun to yell at."
I narrowed my eyes. "You were very fun to almost hit with a microphone stand."
"Fair."
I looked at him for a moment, then extended my hand. "We need a proper introduction. For real this time."
We shook hands.
"Ara Rao Reyes," I said.
"Ethan Kai Rylan," he replied.
"You still look like a carry bag." I muttered.
He smirked. "You still look like an angry fairy."