For a whole week, the NDC website sat stubbornly silent, and the Third Round rule announcement was absent. Left to their own devices, the dance team turned the studio into a chaotic dance boot camp. They formed a semi-circle, every afternoon, devouring YouTube dance videos of varied styles from jazz funk to urban to something Sean once brought in that looked suspiciously like interpretive mime.
Daniel, recently patched up from his injury (although his doctor insisted on 'minimal strain'), trained like he had a vendetta against physics.
"Hyung, for the love of God, stop jumping like you're in Swan Lake!" Ben snapped at one point.
Daniel just waved him off with a theatrical, "What is life without a little pain, Ben-ah?!"
Meanwhile, Ben was spiraling into his own academic apocalypse. By day three post-second round, his phone buzzed with incoming missiles from his mother; each line of text hitting harder than the last.
Ben, why were you not in the Top 10?
What were you even doing last semester? Were you skipping class for dance?
BENEDICT. EXPLAIN. NOW.
Ben tried defending himself. The argument that followed spiraled into a full-on guilt typhoon. He hovered over the message bubble, tempted to confess about the NDC, but thought better of it. She'd probably cut off his allowance just for daring to participate.
Instead, he pulled a Hail Mary and walked over to Professor Song Jiwon of the Korean Economy.
"Gyusonim, I was wondering if I could, uh, do the group project individually?"
He peered at him over his glasses during their meeting.
"Because of this Dance Competition?"
Ben nodded. "Yes. And assignments."
Professor Song tilted his head. "You would do an extra five pages, and there will be stricter grading. No complaints later."
Ben nodded again, harder. "Deal."
From that day on, the dance studio doubled as Ben's academic warzone. Nestled in a corner like a particularly stressed squirrel, he surrounded himself with books, a laptop, and a minefield of highlighters. While the others practiced, Ben muttered economic theories and wrestled with Excel formulas until Daniel, in full Demon Mentor Mode, dragged him by the hoodie into dance sessions.
And just like that, seven days went by.
***
Ben sauntered into the studio one evening, riding the high of having finished three out of four assignments. The fourth, his Korean Economy project, was due in two days. He felt practically invincible.
Until he noticed Terrence sitting solo in the studio.
"Yo, where's everyone?" Ben asked, dropping his bag like an ajeossi coming home after the last subway.
Terrence didn't look up. "Hyung's at his part-time work. Sean hyung is in class. Kai's dropping off Mirae and Abeoji at the airport."
"So it's just us?"
Terrence nodded without enthusiasm.
Ben took that as a yes and grabbed his water bottle. As he started stretching, he asked,
"Where are Mirae and abeonim going?"
"Mirae misses eomeoni. She's only thirteen, so she couldn't go alone. That's why abeoji's tagging along. Kai will be back in a while unless he decides to take a nap again."
Ben chuckled. After a short pause, he asked, "Hey, how come you're not behind on college stuff?"
Terrence blinked, unbothered. "I study three hours every night."
Ben nearly tore his hamstring in shock. "You what? After all that practice?"
Terrence shrugged. "Power of habit."
Ben just stared, betrayed by the universe. Here he was, dying in a sea of assignments, while Terrence just functioned. The guy was like a robot that learned how to moonwalk.
Sighing, he continued stretching. As soon as Ben got up to start practicing, Terrence casually dropped a bomb:
"What do you feel for Daniel Hyung?"
Ben tripped, literally. His leg actually tangled with his other leg, but he caught himself in the mirror.
"What?!" he squeaked, utterly exposed.
Terrence folded his arms like he was cross-examining Ben in court, and said, "Just saying, hyung doesn't understand anything that isn't dance. Don't get too entangled. You'll get hurt."
Ben stood there, stunned, cheeks burning. Terrence's tone was sharp, but his eyes held something close to a warning and concern. That made it worse.
"Are you always this melodramatic?" Ben deflected weakly. "What made you think I'm 'entangled'?"
Terrence gave him a long look. Just when he opened his mouth to speak, Kai burst in with a flourish and an unnecessarily loud spin.
"Gentlemen! I have all the time in the world tonight! For the next two weeks, I have the whole house to myself. Visit anytime."
Terrence rolled his eyes. "Your house is a maze. I'd need a map just to find the dining room."
Kai smirked. "You're just scared a ghost will follow you."
Terrence deadpanned, "I'll punch it."
Kai smirked, "Yeah, right."
Kai, laughing, let himself be dragged by Terrence toward the speakers. Ben tried to join in, but his heart was still knocking like it owed someone money.
***
Later that evening, the full group reunited. Daniel and Sean arrived like victorious gladiators. Daniel practically burst through the door.
"I got paid today! Let's celebrate!"
Before Ben could agree, Kai interjected. "No need. Terrence and I already planned something."
Daniel blinked. "You did?"
Terrence nodded coolly. "We missed your birthday. And no, you don't get to choose the venue. We have already chosen. No alcohol."
Daniel looked personally betrayed. "How can we celebrate without drinks?"
Terrence patted him on the back. "Like normal people."
Meanwhile, Sean, who was unaware of Daniel's birthday, wished him formally with a small bow, "Many happy returns of the day, sunbaenim."
Daniel shrugged it off with, "Gamsahabnida. Now, stop being so formal.