Twenty-two teams remained, but only a few were still standing at full strength. The competition had been brutal: injuries, eliminations, and nerves had cut many teams down. Yet, against all odds, KPT University's team was one of the six teams that remained intact with all members. It was almost funny. Other teams were losing members left and right, but somehow, the biggest menace squad in the tournament was going strong.
Or maybe it wasn't so surprising because they had Daniel.
And Daniel simply didn't lose.
***
After another grueling day of practice, Ben stretched his sore limbs as he and Daniel stepped out of the studio. The night air was crisp, a welcome contrast to the sweat clinging to his skin.
That's when Daniel casually said, "Stay over tonight."
Ben immediately tensed.
Of all people, why him?
"Why?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Daniel shrugged. "Just don't feel like being alone."
It was such a simple answer. There was no hidden motive or any deeper meaning. But to Ben, it was dangerous. He was already walking on a tightrope, desperately trying to keep all these strange, conflicted emotions in check.
Staying alone with him overnight?
It felt like throwing himself off a cliff just to see how far he'd fall.
Still, he agreed, but the real problem arose when he asked where he'd be sleeping.
Daniel blinked at him as if he had just said something ridiculous. "With me, obviously."
Ben nearly choked. "What?"
"I only have one bed."
Ben clenched his fists. Guys crashing in the same bed was nothing unusual, but he could not afford to be this close, not when he wasn't even sure what he'd been feeling lately. Daniel's trust only made it worse. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing; just pure, unshakable naïveté.
"I'll take the couch," he said firmly.
Daniel looked at him as if he had personally offended him. "It's a king-size bed. There's more than enough space."
"Yeah, well, I don't share beds."
"Well… if you hate it so much, you take the couch, then."
Daniel was impossible.
Ben wanted to scream. Did this guy have any sense of danger? Did he ever stop to think that someone might not be as trustworthy as he assumed? That someone could hurt him?
Ben didn't argue because then he'd have to explain why he was so uncomfortable. And that was something he would never, ever admit.
***
As they walked in silence, something kept nagging at Ben. Something about the way Daniel had asked him to stay over.
"Why tonight, though?" he finally asked.
Daniel shrugged again, not looking at him. "It's my birthday."
Ben stopped dead in his tracks. "…What?"
Daniel turned back, blinking at him as if he didn't understand his reaction. "My birthday. You know, the day I was born? Ring any bells?"
Ben's brain refused to process it. "And you didn't tell anyone?"
"I mean… everyone knows my birthday," Daniel said, running a hand through his hair. "But they're all busy with the competition. I didn't want to make them feel guilty."
Ben felt something in his chest twist. That didn't sit right. Without another word, he grabbed Daniel's wrist and dragged him into the nearest convenience store.
"What are you doing?" Daniel asked, confused.
"Fixing this nonsense," Ben muttered.
Fifteen minutes later, they sat on Daniel's balcony with a cheap pack of beer, a ridiculous amount of barbecue, and a cupcake with a single candle stuck in it.
Daniel burst out laughing when he saw it. "Are you serious?"
"Shut up and make a wish," Ben ordered.
Daniel did. He closed his eyes, blew out the candle, and smiled. Ben's throat tightened at the way Daniel smiled, but he didn't say anything. He just watched and tried to ignore the way his heart felt too big for his chest.
***
Ben was a lightweight. So naturally, after two cans of beer, his thoughts had turned into half-melted marshmallows, and his head was starting to feel like a balloon someone had slightly overinflated.
That's when the doorbell rang.
Ben flinched so hard he nearly dropped his can. "Did I just hallucinate a doorbell?"
Daniel, unfazed and borderline giddy, bounced to his feet like a golden retriever who just heard the treat bag rustle. "Nope! That's real!"
He disappeared for all of thirty seconds and returned glowing like the second coming of the sun.
Ben blinked up at him, blearily. "What made you so happy?"
Daniel grinned, eyes sparkling like he'd just won a reality show. "My parents sent me a gift!" He heaved a massive box onto the table like Santa himself had overnighted it.
Ben squinted. "That thing could fit a human body."
"I hope not," Daniel said brightly, tearing into the packaging like a child on Christmas morning.
Ben's curiosity overpowered his dizziness. He crawled over to peer into the box. Inside was a treasure trove: branded jackets, limited-edition accessories, an overpriced cologne that probably smelled like existential superiority, but Daniel bypassed it all with barely a glance.
His eyes zeroed in on a set of wireless headphones and a slim stack of unlabeled DVDs. He held them up like they were sacred relics.
Ben raised an eyebrow. "What are those?"
Daniel's grin turned downright conspiratorial. "My mom's choreography vids. They are not for public eyes. She only sends them to me."
Ben sat up straighter, his curiosity officially piqued. "Wouldn't she get in trouble for sharing those?"
Daniel shrugged. "Probably. But I'm not 'sharing' them. I watch, I learn, I gain artistic inspiration, and send them back. It's a whole sacred ritual."
Ben gave him a flat look. "But you're showing me. Aren't I technically the public?"
Daniel turned to him with mock offense. "Excuse you. You're not public. You're my friend, a little rabbit who panic-blinks when complimented. I trust you."
Ben flushed. "I do not panic-blink."
"You do."
Daniel was already moving, switching off the lights; the room fell into shadows, save for the bluish glow of the TV screen. He slid the first disc into the player and plopped back down beside Ben, practically vibrating with excitement.
Ben's eyes widened as the video began.
On screen was a tall and powerful woman, Daniel's mother, Lara, with elegance etched into every line of her body. She must have been in her late forties, yet she moved like time itself bowed to her. Her control was effortless, her transitions explosive. She radiated intensity even in the small studio space, guiding a group of wide-eyed teenage trainees with sharp, fluid gestures.
Ben said, pointing. "That's eomeonim?"
"Yep yep," Daniel said proudly, his voice soft with affection. "Cool, right?"
"Yeah," Ben echoed, staring. "Seeing her dance feels surreal. I have only ever seen her choreos executed by Idol groups."
Daniel beamed. "She taught me everything."
Ben nodded, mesmerized by the woman onscreen. He could see the resemblance now, not just in looks, but in the sheer magnetic force of presence. Daniel had inherited that. No wonder he danced like a storm in motion.
Unfortunately, Ben made the fatal mistake of glancing sideways.
Daniel was watching the screen, utterly engrossed, his expression lit by the flickering blue of the TV. The shadows softened the planes of his face: sharp jawline, impossibly long lashes, those lips curved in a soft, nostalgic smile.
Ben froze.
He could see the exact shape of Daniel's mouth and remembered vividly the moment their lips had brushed a few months ago. That stupid mistake. And yet, it had rooted itself in Ben's brain like a virus.
His heartbeat kicked into overdrive. He quickly looked away, ears burning.
No. Nope. Not going there.
But it was too late.
Why had that one moment changed everything? Why did Daniel feel closer now, even when he hadn't done anything different? Why did Ben feel like his own skin was betraying him every time they touched, laughed, or looked at each other for too long?
Daniel was good-looking, sure, but Ben had always handled it just fine. So why did Daniel feel like a walking emotional landmine now?
And why, for the love of all things holy, did Ben suddenly have this awful, beautiful, terrifying urge to—
Oh God.
Ben smacked a metaphorical panic button in his brain.
Stop. Stop right now.
What are you thinking?! These are not friendly thoughts.
He gripped his can tightly.
You admire Daniel. That's it. Friendly, normal, healthy admiration that does NOT include involuntary heart palpitations and inappropriate mental images—
Ben exhaled shakily.
Beside him, Daniel was completely oblivious. He was still focused on the video, nodding along to the beat, humming softly under his breath.
In the dark room, bathed in flickering blue light, with the quiet pulse of music in the background, Ben realized something he had been fighting for weeks.
His thoughts and feelings have already begun to stray into unfamiliar territory. He couldn't place a finger on what it was, but he was sure it was neither admiration, nor respect, nor friendship.