The familiar beat filled the empty dance studio as you stepped in, the faint ache in your muscles a reminder of the injury that had kept you from moving freely. This time, it wasn’t just about recovery. You wanted to be better—sharper, smoother—for him. Being his backup dancer for the last music video had lit a fire under you. Every moment on set, every move, had been a reminder of how close you were to your dream, but also of the room you had to improve.

“You sure you should be pushing yourself so soon after your injury?” The voice was unmistakable, warm and teasing, cutting through the silence with a familiarity that made your heart race. You turned, catching sight of San in the doorway, his expression a mix of curiosity and that signature smirk.

He stepped into the studio, closing the distance with a confidence that matched the sharpness of his movements on stage. “I remember you struggling a bit with that last transition. Here—” his hand reached for yours, gently guiding you into the movement. He positioned himself just behind you, so close you could feel his warmth as he adjusted your stance, his hands light but precise.

“Let’s get it smoother this time,” he murmured, his voice low, as he guided you through the steps, his touch steadying you and pulling you deeper into the rhythm.