( prev. ) she’s wanted this for so long — so, so, so long — that she wonders if the novelty of debut has worn off on her and all she wants is peace. but then she’ll find herself back in a practice room, going through the motions of a choreography she learned the day before — tired, sweaty, breathless — and thinking, there’s no place she’d rather be.
and when sori puts the number into facts, the reality is ice cold. she’s been here for so long, too long and she wonders if its pathetic of her to continue waiting. but the praise is a nice consolation, a true testatment of her years of training, practicing, grueling over getting each and every choreographed performance right ( only to grow a chip on her shoulder when the year ends and debut is still closer to a dream than it is a reality ), “thank you,” and its in this instance that lili finds it hard to humble herself down — not that she ever wanted to be considered humble but forcing it now was hard when she’s nearly had a decade of practice under her belt. “it was my first love.” and was almost as easy as breathing at this point.
lili could believe it. when she first got into the company, she had kept to herself — a detached persona shrouded her when she had moved from one company to the next, carrying the shame of her past actions. it had continued until her second year when she finally branched out but it was too late and there were too many trainees who simply didn’t care to be tethered down by relationships. somehow, lili became one of them. “it’s okay, i wasn’t really the most … social either. i thought if i kept to myself and worked hard enough it would make me debut faster but …” she pushes through a wry laugh, “surprise, surprise — still here.” she’s trying to joke, hoping it comes across as funny instead of desperate. “but i have been enjoying this experience. it’s definitely different than anything i’ve done before. i’ve only ever performed at the company concert at the end of summer.”
sori wonders how long she would’ve stayed a trainee before giving up. dancing is her true love, and she would’ve stayed at legacy for a while as a trainee, but how long would she have stayed a trainee? she couldn’t have been a trainee for forever, at some point apparently, you’re too old to debut, so eventually, had she not debuted, her dreams would’ve been crushed. how long would she have stayed, how long would legacy have kept her around? it’s not exactly a pleasant thing to think about, but it does make sori more thankful she at last debuted.
she looks at lili, and the number repeats in her head, nine years… it took sori about four years she’s pretty sure, and that felt like forever, but… nine years… it sounds like forever, and sori fears she wouldn’t have been able to stick around for that long “how young were you when you became a trainee then?” she must’ve been young… one of those people that started as a trainee extremely young, right? “i suppose it was my first love too” she nods her head, sori has never had anything romantic with anyone, so dancing is probably the closest sori has gotten to “love”.
“i personally had a tendency to see everyone as a rival during my trainee days… so making friends was difficult” she twirls a piece of her own hair between her fingers. “it took me some time to realize that it’s nice to have friends in this industry and that not everyone is your… enemy” she pouts. “maybe it’s good you didn’t know me back then, i often came across as… rude, i suppose” she was rude, definitely was. “i still struggle with making friends, but hey, i try” she smiles to the other, part of her wants to ask lili if she wants to be friends, but she’s unsure if that’s how friendships work, do you ask people to be your friend? “you should look forward to debuting, i’m sure you will be debuting eventually” she smiles.