writer: yellow hippo
genre: psycho au, angst
characters: jung hoseok, laelynn [original female character]
synopsis: currently on a hiatus from her ballet classes abroad, she reminisces about a certain street dancer from her past. she meets him again as she was recruited as a muse for his video project. what happens when she tries to win his heart? would she make or break his hard-earned passion and career?
story:
✾ CHAPTER 2 ✾
I betrayed my own conscience…
I knew from the beginning what I was doing was wrong. But can you blame me? I’ve wanted him to notice me ever since I’ve seen him dancing on the streets.
Our next practice schedule, he didn’t show up. I was already expecting it. Sejin came that afternoon and said that I could go home early. Apparently, he came down with the flu after the fansigning event today.
Coincidence? I think not.
“Thanks Sejin-ssi. But I think I’ll stay a little longer. I can practice on my own, so don’t worry about me.”
I texted him once Sejin left.
‘Feel better soon, oppa. Your fans will worry so much once the news comes out.’
The sharp realities that I feel more and more every day...
Practice with him was intimate before the kiss. But now? He’s always accompanied by a manager or a staff member.
His petty excuses make me laugh.
“Do you mind? Our staff wants some clips for our BANGTANTV channel.”
“Jungkook came with me today. Said he was bored at the dorm.”
“I can’t stay late today. I need to get back to my studio.”
“Sorry I can’t come today. PD-nim asked how my mixtape is going.”
I thought my butterfly was finally getting used to me. I thought he would finally rest his wings and stay with me. Apparently, the kiss just made him fly away more.
Red blood staining from being torn apart by reality…
“Oppa, can we talk?” I pulled him away from the manager during one of our practices. He looks at his manager as if asking for help when I pulled him away.
“What’s the matter, Lynn-ah?” He crossed his arms as he avoided my gaze.
“I’m sorry about the ki-” He covered my lips with his hands, afraid that his manager might hear. That was my purpose though. To be heard.
These past few days, I felt like some kind of ghost lingering around him. He doesn’t see me. He doesn’t hear me.
“Hyung, could you get us coffee, please?”
He cleared his throat as his manager left.
“Why?” He asked, walking away from again towards the mirror. He looks at his reflection and then at mine. There was no anger in his eyes. Just plain confusion.
“Because I lo-”
“No, Lynn-ah. Don’t even go there. It isn’t what you think it is. You know me for a long time now, but it’s not the same for me. I met you through my company. You’re a featured dancer for my song. That’s it.”
“How can you turn it into nothing? It was the only thing that kept me going for years.”
My vision starts to blur with the tears pooling in my eyes. How could he just shrug it all off?
“I appreciate the fact that you made me your inspiration, Lynn-ah. But it has to stop there. Let’s save each other from heartbreak by not even going into the same direction it leads to.”
We didn’t talk after that. Just plain practice. It was awkward. Even the people around us noticed that the atmosphere was colder between us.
That greed would become the horn that calls upon hell…
It was the day of the MV shoot. His whole team was there from the managers to his stylists. Bodyguards roam outside the set. Food trucks arriving one by one. He was on a really different level now.
But so am I.
I sat on the floor as I put on my ballet shoes while he warms up. Surprisingly, he offered his hand to help me up. I stared at his hand before taking it. He immediately let go and went to his position as the director called us to be ready.
The dance would start with us being on opposite sides and we each take a step forward, coming closer towards each other. The director asked for separate shots of each of us before taking another that shows us both.
While I was dancing towards the middle, I could see him look at me subtly. I can’t help but smile a little and feel warm inside. He’s still ever the perfectionist. Even if he’s mad at me for what I did, he’s very much aware of how I do our routine.
I intentionally made a mistake while we were doing my solo shot. I trip on my toes and finally, his eyes that were so cold went soft. I pretended to check on my ankle as he ran up to me and asked if I was fine. He called for his manager to get some ice as his fingers gently touched my skin.
“I’m fine, oppa.” I tried to play it cool and stood up ignoring his worried stare. Going back to my position, I signaled the director that I’m ready to shoot once again.
He stood still in the position where we would meet and begin dancing together. I ignored his eyes on me and began dancing my way towards the middle.
It was now or never. Cameras of staff and select media were here capturing behind the scenes. Well, a scene they would get.
Once I reached the middle, I reached for him. Pulling him by the collar, I pecked his lips. It is still soft like before but also sweeter. Perhaps it was the gloss they put on his lips.
He suddenly pushed me away and ran off towards his car. The staff and his managers followed him in a frenzy as they blocked out the media from following him. I stood with a smirk as I watched him run.
Cameras were suddenly surrounding me.
“What’s your relationship with-”
“Are you dating him?”
“How long have you known each other?”
Questions upon questions. Cameras clicking non-stop.
“We go way back in middle school,” I say and all everyone was silent ready to hear the story of how an idol dated someone even before becoming a celebrity. It’s up to them how they twist the story of two people in love. People who met through their similar passion and how they had to sacrifice their love.
April 27, 2026 - The Bride in the Red Wedding Dress
You painted me a life of sorrow and misery,
chaining me in a prison of anger and pain.
You've made our love in that of sadness,
curated line after line of our story into heartbreak.
Even before one can type out our ending,
you've crashed the wedding yourself,
leaving trails of blood in your wake with no care.
But even then…
Even then I'd walk down the bloody isle,
letting my fingers wrap around thorns of my bouquet.
Smiling through the pain in each step I take.
Closer and closer to the altar, I walk.
You painted me a life of sorrow and misery,
chaining me in a prison of anger and pain.
But even then, I'd choose you over and over.
Even then, I'd choose to exchange vows with only you.
Because 'I do'.
'I do' to our painted life of sorrow and misery.
'I do' in being chained in a prison of anger and pain.
'I do' to our love doomed for sadness.
'I do' to every line of our hearbreak.
Even then I'd walk down the bloody isle,
letting my fingers wrap around thorns of my bouquet.
Smiling through the pain in each step I take.
Closer and closer to the altar, I walk.
Everything I can endure for you, my love.
Just don't ever forget my name.
I don't need it shrouded in fame.
I don't want to win in any game.
Because 'I do'.
'I do' to our painted life of sorrow and misery.
'I do' in being chained in a prison of anger and pain.
'I do' to our love doomed for sadness.
'I do' to every line of our hearbreak.
Even then I'd walk down the bloody isle,
letting my fingers wrap around thorns of my bouquet.
Smiling through the pain in each step I take.
Closer and closer to the altar, I walk.
The cracks appear as they always do,
because even with a layer of coating
is never enough to keep it smooth and perfect,
Soon the stains would fill the cracks
with new colors from the outside.
That in itself serves as proof of its use.
After being polished to perfection,
it wore out after some time passed
because life is pretty much that.
Goodbye to this past year.
Hello to a new fear,
perhaps two or more.
But that only adds to the lore—
A new book waiting to be written.
So go ahead and leave your haven.
A new world is bound to be built,
to straighten out every little tilt.
Goodbye to this past year.
May this new one be clear,
perhaps even better or the best.
Don't be afraid to be put to test.
We've crawled.
We've bawled.
Hail a new world of ours.
Face new wars.
Glass—
But it wasn't the shoes, no.
It was her legs, her feet.
One wrong step?
She could easily loose the journey.
So she takes one step,
and then two,
Careful of the jagged floor,
she tiptoes like a ballerina.
Stealthy, slow, until sundown,
her breath is held long.
She wants to dance in the rain
or run endlessly in the sand.
But every rock leaves a crack.
A sickening reminder of the curse
that she can, and will, break.
Taking it slow and steady
is really the only choice to go.
'Life is a race', indeed.
But she has never really 'lived'.
Every step hinders a genuine smile.
Every step is as if she's on molten ground.
It burns yet she remains cold.
