hunji leaned over the counter. he looked up, to try and see a window before him, looking at a brick wall, but found no glass. there was no pane, just white, dried, hardened paint. he sighed. even the blasé view of the brick wall back home was nicer. he held his cup of coffee closer. he tongue cherished every bitter drop. his eyebags cherished every grain of caffeine. his brain wandered far from the mug.
a girls song, of all things, they were to perform. still, it was changed for him, it was changed for the boys, and yet, there he stood, confused. he tilted his head. he furrowed his brows. he frowned. to himself, he let out a quiet, “hm?”
he set his mug down and stepped back. he put his hands together. he leaned side, to side, whispering the song to himself.
“you’re so dun-dun,” lean, “dun-dun,” stop.
in his mind he could picture himself in the center of the other boys, all of them in motion with his slow tilts. but, as soon as the next eight beats began, he was supposed to be far to the left. no, it was close to the left.
“but how do i…?” he tried it again.
lean, lean, lean, jump? no, lean, lean, lean, step, jump? no, the jump and then the step, but, wait, there’s a second jump, right?
hunji swallowed. he had it perfect last night. his heart jolted out of his chest. he gasped. how much had he forgotten? their performance would be in just hours.
with no time to call a coach or choreographer, he went to the senior boys. he peered into each room, the first filled with sleeping men, and the second- jun. he was awake!
hunji was tired, messy, and looked homeless. the panic on his face drove it home.
“jun,” he whispered as to not wake anyone else asleep in his room, “can you come here? i need help. i forgot everything.”
it’s no surprise that the night before their performance, jun cannot sleep properly. if it had just been a performance, he wouldn’t have had so much trouble, but it’s the talking part that makes his stomach twist and turn. it’s around 4am that he completely gives up on trying to get more sleep and turns his switch on. playing animal crossings might just be the thing to get his mind off what’s coming (spoiler; it didn’t work very well). at first, when he hears his name, he thinks that it’s his roommate that has awoken, but instead, when he raises his eyes from the device, it’s a distressed hunji that greets him. jun cocks an eyebrow at the state the other is in, until hunji explains his predicament. a small smile soften his feature. he knows the feeling. one that he hasn’t had during future dreams thankfully, having developped his muscle memory skills enough before the show started. but he’s been there too. he turns off his switch and gets out of bed. “sure, hyung, let’s go to the living room.” he whispers back.
jun leaves his bed and exits the room without making a noise. carefully closing the door behind him. last minute dance lessons? now that’s exactly the distraction he needs. once he’s in the living room, he raises his voice a little more. “so, have you forgotten everything everything, or just part of it? should we go through the routine from the beginning together?” he asks, already positioning himself next to hunji to rehearse, hands in front of him.
