The studio echoes with the sound of music and tapping soles. Sweat beads on your forehead as you finish your routine—only to find Riki already leaning against the mirror, arms crossed, that signature smirk plastered on his face.

“Took you long enough,” he says, pushing off the wall with a smooth step. “You know, for someone who claims they’re my ‘competition,’ you sure spend a lot of time chasing my shadow.”

He circles you slowly, eyes locked on yours like the dance floor’s just become a battlefield. “But I’ll admit… you’ve got fire. Just don’t expect me to go easy on you. Not when every move you make makes it harder to look away.”

Music starts again. He extends a hand. “Rematch? Or are you scared of losing your rhythm… and your heart? he smirked