Damien stood at the center of the practice room, panting softly as the final notes of the music faded. The other trainees had either left for the night or practiced in other rooms. Luckily, he was able to grab an empty one before all of the rooms were filled up.
The praise from that afternoon's class still rang in his ears, recognition of how far he'd come in such a short time. Damien's chest swelled with hard-won confidence as he swiped sweat from his forehead.
As he took a water break, he replayed the month's events in his head. He remembered he was the fumbling newcomer just a month ago; now he was a serious contender. Tomorrow's monthly evaluation was the final hurdle of the month, and he felt ready as he could be.
The practice room's door creaked open, cutting through the silence. Damien turned to see Choi Hajoon stepping inside. Hajoon's face wore the polite mask they all maintained around each other—a thing smile, eyes curved in feigned friendliness. "Pulling an all-nighter, huh?" Hajoon's voice echoed light as he sauntered in. He had a towel draped around his neck, as if he too had been practicing late.
Damien became wary in an instant, but offered a courteous nod. "Just wanted to run my routine a few more times. What about you?" He asked, keeping his tone respectful. But, an uneasy prickle ran through Damien's spine. There was nothing overtly hostile in Hajoon's demeanour today, but the timing was odd. He set his water bottle back in his bag and tried to appear at ease.
Hajoon wandered closer, eyes sweeping over the empty studio. "You've really improved a lot, Damien," he said lightly. "The trainers are impressed. They've complemented you throughout this week." The words were praise, but something about his tone made Damien's fingers tighten.
Hajoon's gaze flickered to the wall of mirrors where Damien's reflection stood uncertainly, then down to the ground where a few of Damien's belongings were placed: a hoodie, a notebook of notes, and a half-full water bottle.
"Thanks. I still have a lot to work on."
Damien replied carefully, eyeing Hajoon, unsure of his intentions. He could feel the subtle tension in the air—an undercurrent beneath their polite exchange.
He keeps on saying the same things over and over… So what if I improved a lot?
Hajoon stepped nearer, his reflection looming closer to the mirror. For a moment neither spoke. The only sound was both of their breathing and the distant chatter of trainees down the hallway.
Then, the older broke the silence. "Don't over do it. Wouldn't want you to be exhausted for the evaluation." He gave a smile. "After all, tomorrow's important for all of us."
The words were friendly enough, yet Damien heard the double meaning.
Hajoon's eyes fixed on him unblinking, as if measuring his response.
Damien nodded slowly. "Right. Best to be in top form." He reached for his towel and patted down his face, maintaining a neutral expression. Inside, a coil of unease wound tighter in his stomach. Something about Hajoon tonight felt off.
He just wanted to practice in peace. Couldn't everyone leave him be?
He noticed then that Hajoon's attention drifted again to the water bottle on the bench. It was a brief glance, but Damien caught it. Hajoon quickly met his eyes again and chuckled. "I'm just here to grab my charger. Left it earlier." He pointed to the corner where a charger indeed lay coiled. Damien exhaled and watched as Hajoon picked it up.
"You really pushed yourself hard today," Hajoon turned back and commented. Unbeknownst to Damien, Hajoon's fingers swiftly brushed against his water bottle. "Be careful, yeah? Sometimes when your progress is too fast... things break."
"..." Damien's jaw tightened.
For a moment, the two stood face to face under the stark light. Damien could hear the hammering of his heart beat against his ears. Hajoon's gaze bore into him, then he stepped back, giving a light wave. "Good night. Don't stay too late."
The door closed and Damien was alone again.
He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in.
What was that about? A threat? Maybe he was on edge because of the evaluations.
Damien shook his head then shivered, unable to fathom Hajoon. Shaking off the tension, he reached for his water bottle and gulped down some more water to rehydrate after his intense practice. The cool liquid was refreshing, but slightly bitter.
"What?..."
He took another sip and frowned after swallowing. The water tasted off, metallic. He narrowed his eyes at the bottle, thoughts swirling. He glanced toward the door again, recalling Hajoon's fleeting visit.
His suspicion flickered momentarily, but exhaustion blurred his logic.
No way… that's too far, even for him... Damien rationalized, shaking off the thought.
He took another careful sip, probing, tasting, trying to determine what felt wrong. But alas, curfew time was coming, and he couldn't afford to stay in the practice room any longer.
Damien capped the bottle and tucked it into his bag. After grabbing his hoodie and slinging his bag over his shoulder, he switched off the lights. Damien tried to shake off his encounter with Hajoon by thinking positively. Besides, he had every reason to feel confident.
Yet as he walked down the silent hallway, the image of Hajoon's smile and words followed him into the dark.
...
Sunlight crept through the thin curtains casting a warm glow across Damien's room. He woke with a start before his alarm, chest tight and sheets damp against his skin. His heart pounded an uneven rhythm as if he'd just sprinted, though he'd been asleep.
Sitting up slowly, he blinked against a wave of dizziness. As he ran a hand through his hair, he noticed the droplets of sweat that clung to his fingers.
"What is this?" He tried to steady his breathing. The jittery feeling in his limbs refused to settle entirely, but the haze in his head cleared a little.
Sliding out of bed, Damien nearly stumbled. His legs felt oddly weak and the faintest ache pulsed in his muscles—probably from yesterday's practice. He checked the time only to see that it was barely dawn. He'd only managed a few hours of rest after getting back so late.
Walking to the bathroom, Damien splashed cold water on his face ad stared at his reflection. There were dark circles under his eyes and his skin was pale.
Sh*t... I look horrible. And I feel horrible too.
Something felt off. Not just anxiety due to today's evaluations—he'd performed under pressure before but it never felt like this. Clammy skin, unsteady hands... It almost felt like he was coming down with a fever.
Damien shook his head sharply, dismissing the thought. No time for negativity. He dressed in his uniform and went to school. Luckily, his evaluation was moved to later in the evening. He hoped that this feeling would go away as the time passed by.
But, as the evening arrived. He felt the same. Actually—worse.
When he entered the company building, other trainees were milling about in the waiting area. Damien spotted Yejun and Kian sitting on a bench reviewing their choreography on their phones.
Noticing Damien's appearance, Yejun's eyes widened. "Whoa, what happened to you? You look like a ghost," he blurted out.
Damien managed a laugh, raising a hand in greeting. "Thanks for that. Exactly what I wanted to hear today."
He dropped onto the bench beside them, visibly tired. Kian frowned and pressed the back of his hand to Damien's forehead briefly. It reminded Damien of his mother checking for a fever when he was younger.
"You're... a bit clammy. You feeling okay?" Kian's brow creased.
"I'm alright. I didn't get sleep, and my nerves are killing me. Maybe that's what it is." Damien murmured.
Yejun nudged him lightly. "But you really look pale. If you're sick, you should tell the trainers—"
"No." Damien interrupted sharply. "I'm alright, promise. I can't miss this chance." He tried to flash a reassuring smile.
The last thing he wanted was to be pulled from the evaluation because of a little queasiness. Since the concept was finalized, the company was for sure looking for their debut roster in this monthly evaluation. Damien couldn't back out now. If he did, who knew when he'd get another shot?
Kian exchanged a glance with Yejun but nodded. "Okay. Just take it easy. We're rooting for you." He patted Damien's shoulder. The warmth of their care helped steady Damien's resolve.
"Same goes for you two," Damien replied. "Good luck out there." They all offered each other small fist-bumps, genuinely cheering for each other despite being competitors.
As an announcement chimed calling for the next trainee, a wave of anticipation rippled through the room. Damien flexed his fingers, trying to stay calm.
Behind him, Choi Hajoon leaned casually against the wall with his arms folded. His eyes were fixed on Damien across the room. When he saw the slight unsteadiness in Damien's posture, his fingers clenched and his lips thinned before finally forcing out a cruel smile.
Knowing his plan was a success, he turned around and left.
...
The stage lights burned down on Damien like a white-hot sun. He squinted against their intensity as he stepped into position. Out in the dim seating area, he could make out the silhouettes of the trainers and evaluators holding their clipboards. A dozen or so fellow trainees stood off to the side awaiting their turns.
He took his opening stance and willed himself to focus.
As soon as the backing track began, a jolt went through him. Damien launched into the choreography on instinct, but almost immediately he knew something was wrong. A whisper of confusion rustled through the watching trainees.
Damien's throat went dry.
Come on, focus!
He urged himself to focus. But each move grew heavier, sluggish, like trudging through muddy water. Cold sweat traced his neck. And as he reached the song's pre-chorus, the move that he'd been proud of—he'd perfected countless times, came out weak and slow.
Panic instantly flared through him.
Murmurs grew among the evaluators. One trainer who had praised him yesterday leaned forward, her pen hovering above the clipboard, eyebrows knitted in concern. Damien caught a glimpse of her expression.
Sh*t...
They could all see he was floundering.
His vision blurred at the edges as he spun into the next move.
The studio's walls and rows of seats tilted in his sight.
What is happening to me?
It felt like his body was betraying him, shutting down second by second. His lungs burned and his knees quaked.
He stumbled, a subtle but fatal misstep that derailed the choreography entirely.
The lights above blurred into a single halo, saw the outlines of faces in front of him twisting in alarm. Sounds grew distant, a hollow roar filling his ears.
A voice shouted his name from somewhere—Kian's voice, he thought dimly—had panic in it. Damien's own name echoed strangely in his disoriented mind.
He took one faltering step, then his legs gave out entirely. The stage rushed up to meet him. Damien crashed down hard on his hands and knees, the impact jarring up his arms.
The music abruptly cut off.
In the sudden silence, Damien could hear his heart pounding and the ragged gasps of his breath. Cold sweat dripped from his temple onto the polished floor. He tried to push himself up, humiliation and panic warring inside.
There was a scrambled commotion—footsteps thudding, voices in alarm. Trainers rushed onto the stage. Through double vision, Damien saw a couple of them approaching just as his arms finally buckled.
He collapsed fully onto the ground.
His eyelids fluttered.
Why?…
And finally, it closed.
F*ck the universe and the higher gods…
The world around him dissolved into an indistinct haze of shouts and shadows.