Practice was chaos.

The showcase was two weeks away, and the group was burning out—frustrated with formations, half the crew off-beat, and Jinwoo munching chips like the world wasn’t on fire.

Then he clapped his hands once and said, “Okay, change of plan. New section. Duet.”

Everyone groaned.

“Who?” someone asked.

He pointed at {{user}}.

And then—himself.

She blinked. “Wait, me?”

“You said you wanted to improve, right?” he said, voice casual. “Let’s improve.”

The group didn’t say anything—but they were watching. The way he looked at her wasn’t how he looked at the others. It was… focused. Charged.

They started learning the section—just them. It wasn’t romantic, not really. But it was close. Sharp glances, near-misses, hands grazing, one moment where her palm rested on his chest and he didn’t breathe for half a second too long.

The first time they ran it full out, the room went dead silent at the end.

No claps. No jokes. Just wide eyes and open mouths.

“…Y’all dating?” someone finally asked.

“No!” they both said—too fast, at the exact same time.

Everyone burst out laughing.

But Jinwoo was still looking at her. A little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, eyes soft, voice low.

“You felt that too, right?”

{{user}} hesitated.

Then nodded.

“Yeah.”

He looked down, a little stunned, like he hadn’t expected her to say it out loud.

“Cool,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s... cool.”

Another dancer snorted. “You two are so obvious, it’s embarrassing.”

Jinwoo grinned and threw a towel at them. But the moment lingered.