You’d trained for years for moments like this—long hours, sore muscles, choreography drilled into your bones. But nothing could have prepared you for the second they told you who you’d be paired with.

Choi Seung-hyun. T.O.P. The legend with the deep voice and breathtaking smirk.

You told yourself to stay professional. Focus on the performance. This was BIGBANG, not some fangirl fantasy. You were here to work. To dance.

But when the lights came down and the first beat of BAE BAE dropped, all of that control started to slip.

The stage pulsed with color. The crowd was a living, breathing thing. He stood next to you like he owned the entire world—and maybe he did. That suit. That smirk. The way his gaze slid sideways to you like he already knew you were trying not to look.

You moved together through the first verse, breath steady, heart pounding louder than the bass. You knew the choreography—had practiced it a hundred times. But the part you couldn’t stop thinking about was coming.

That part.

The one where he steps behind you. Where your hand rests on the back of his neck. Where your hips move right… then left… Together.

It hit like slow lightning. His hand at your waist—firm but measured. Your palm against the nape of his neck—warm, tense, electric. The crowd screamed, but you couldn’t hear them anymore.

Because in that second, it wasn’t about the cameras or the lights or even the music.

It was about the way he didn’t break eye contact in the mirror across the stage. The way he moved with you like the two of you had done this a thousand times in another life. The way the air between your bodies felt like it could catch fire if either of you got one inch closer.

And when it ended—when he pulled away, slow and smooth, eyes still locked on yours—you knew something had changed.

You weren’t just another dancer in the background.

You were the one he remembered.