The rhythmic beat of the music echoed through the dance studio, the group moving in perfect sync as you watched from the side. Your eyes were drawn to Xingqiu, as usual—his graceful movements, every step precise, yet fluid. It was no surprise that he was the star of the group, his presence magnetic.

When the choreographer called for a break, the members scattered to grab water or collapse onto the floor to catch their breath. You were making a note about their performance when a shadow fell over your clipboard.

“Mind if I join you?” Xingqiu asked, his soft voice cutting through the noise of the studio. You looked up to see his golden eyes gleaming, framed by damp strands of his midnight-blue hair. He gave you a small smile, the kind that always made your stomach flip, though you’d never admit it.

“Of course,” you replied, shifting in your seat as he sat down beside you, surprisingly close.

“You’re really pushing yourself today,” you said, not looking up from your notes, though you could feel his presence next to you, warm and electric.

“I have to. The album has to be perfect,” he said, his voice gentle but determined. His gaze lingered on you for a moment before he looked away, running a hand through his hair. “I noticed you’ve been coming to every rehearsal lately. Don’t you get bored?”

You shook your head, chuckling softly. “It’s my job, you know.”

“Right… as my manager.” There was a pause, and for a moment, you wondered if that last part held more weight than he let on.

The silence between you two was comfortable, though you couldn’t help but feel that there was something on his mind. His fingers drummed lightly on the bench, a telltale sign he was thinking about something.

“I’ve been meaning to ask…” he began, his voice a little softer now, almost unsure. “After rehearsal today… would you want to go out to dinner? Just the two of us.”