Ben had barely slept.
The previous night still clung to him, pressing into his chest like a dead weight. He had spent hours lying awake, staring at the ceiling of Daniel's apartment, his thoughts crawling into places he had no right to go.
Daniel's innocence… was dangerous.
It wasn't that Daniel was unaware of the world. He was intelligent, talented, and fiercely independent. But he had never felt real danger. Not once had he considered that someone close to him could want something else.
Ben exhaled sharply, rolling onto his side. His fingers twitched as he remembered the fleeting touch of Daniel's face under his fingertips.
How the hell did everything spiral so out of control? The thoughts in his head weren't right. He knew it was wrong to feel this way about his senior and his friend.
And yet, he couldn't stop…
A voice in the back of his head whispered, he needs to learn what real danger feels like.
He clenched his fists, nails biting into his palms.
No.
He wasn't that kind of person. He wouldn't let himself be.
***
By the time morning arrived, he was running on three hours of sleep and sheer willpower. And Daniel was being… Daniel.
"Ben-ahhh," the older boy whined dramatically, flopping onto Ben's back as he tried to grab breakfast. "Feed me."
"Feed yourself," Ben grumbled, shaking him off.
Daniel made a whiny cat noise before trying a new approach, clinging to Ben like a giant golden retriever.
"You're really testing my patience, hyung."
"Don't be mean! I'm injured," Daniel pouted, pointing dramatically at his wrapped ankle.
Ben sighed heavily. "You've been milking that injury for weeks."
Daniel gasped, offended. "How dare you say that to a man in recovery? I demand an apology and coffee."
Ben ignored him, dragging him out of the apartment before Daniel could waste another twenty minutes being ridiculous.
***
Ben, being an introvert, felt his soul shrink the moment he and Daniel stepped onto campus and were immediately swarmed by a buzzing cloud of Daniel's admirers.
A girl practically materialized out of nowhere, shoving Ben aside like he was an inconvenient bag of groceries, and latched onto Daniel's arm like a leech.
"Sunbaenim," she said sweetly, her voice a practiced honeyed purr, "are you sure you're fully recovered? Maybe I could help you stretch~?"
Ben let out a sigh, stepping back but refusing to go far. He'd long since accepted that Daniel attracted attention like a human magnet, but some of his admirers didn't sit right with him. They were too forward, too touchy, and too opportunistic. And Daniel never seemed to notice.
He scanned the crowd, and sure enough, a few of the girls were glaring at him with pinched faces and narrowed eyes. One girl looked him up and down and then shared a not-so-subtle whisper with her friend, Why is this pretty boy so chummy with sunbae?
Ben rolled his eyes. He didn't owe them an explanation. Still, he stood stiffly, jaw tight.
His spine locked when one of Daniel's male admirers, a tall guy with a sleazy grin and a little too much cologne, casually slipped an arm around Daniel's waist. "You sure you're okay, sunbae?" he asked, voice smooth with intent. "If you need help recovering, I give great massages."
Ben almost groaned out loud. Subtlety was officially dead. But Daniel just blinked and smiled, clearly not clocking the guy's tone. "That's nice of you, but—"
That was it. Ben's patience hit its limit.
He pushed past the huddle, grabbed Daniel firmly by the wrist, and pulled him out of the circle without a word. Daniel stumbled after him, wide-eyed and confused.
"Wha–Ben?! Where are we going?!"
"To safety," Ben muttered, cheeks burning, not even turning around.
When they arrived at the Dance Studio, Terrence and Kai were already stretching.
Terrence gave them one look and smirked. "You two came together?"
Ben shrugged, but Daniel just had to open his big mouth.
"Ben was the best wifey ever," Daniel announced proudly. "He took care of me, cooked for me—"
Ben kicked him in the shin gently. (Sort of.)
Kai snorted. "You're really living your best life, huh?"
"Of course," Daniel grinned, flipping his hair dramatically. "I am so loved."
Ben sighed. This was going to be a long day.
***
With just six days left until the third round of the NDC, the long-awaited rules finally dropped.
Each dancer would be assigned a random prop. They had to create an 'original performance' on the spot, treating the prop as if it were a third limb. Any dance style was permitted, but the prop had to be integrated seamlessly.
It was, in short, a test of creativity, spontaneity, and adaptability. No prepared routines, just raw, improvisational nerve.
Ben read the rules and went stiff. "This is…" he began.
"A nightmare," Terrence finished, deadpan.
Daniel, on the other hand, lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. "Oh, come on, this is so creative! That sounds fun!"
Kai made a face. "You're literally the only person enjoying this."
Daniel laughed and started twirling an imaginary broom in his hand like a wand. "Imagine getting a broom or a mannequin! The possibilities!"
Ben didn't respond. He was already spiraling. Creating something from scratch was pressure enough, but with an unknown object…it felt like academic torture disguised as art.
Terrence, the unofficial team researcher, immediately pulled up the NDC website and began scouring it for previous rounds. Ben joined in, deciding to use Naver instead. The NDC site only had archives from the past five years, but the competition had been running for over fifteen years. If this round existed before, someone would've talked about it.
He was right.
"Guys, look at this," Ben called out.
Terrence leaned over his shoulder. Daniel and Kai, who were now acting out a ridiculous witch-janitor skit complete with sweeping and cackling, paused and shuffled over.
"Oh? Eight years ago," Terrence narrowed his eyes on the screen. "They did have a prop round."
Ben nodded. "They gave out all sorts of stuff. One guy had to dance with a frying pan."
Daniel gasped. "Please tell me there's a video!"
Kai pointed grimly at the screen. "NDC's disabled the full footage. Only short clips remain."
Ben groaned. "Unbelievable. They don't even want us to peek."
Daniel shrugged with a faint smile. "I guess they want us to be original, not copy ideas."
All three boys let out matching sighs of quiet doom.
***
That evening, their usual practice session dissolved into something that looked more like a collective mental breakdown.
Ben buried himself in Naver TV and YouTube videos, searching for dancers who used props, ranging from cardboard boxes to wigs, canvas, and dolls. He even briefly considered the potential of a feather boa.
Terrence started choreographing a routine using his own backpack as a prop. At one point, he dramatically flung it across the room and then chased it, as if it had insulted his mother.
Kai, perched in a corner like a background bard, strummed his ukulele to lift the mood.
Daniel, meanwhile, was in full freestyling mode. He flowed through the room, music pumping through his earbuds, experimenting with scarves, water bottles, and even a yoga mat.
That was when Sean walked in.
As usual, his arrival was almost ghostlike. He stood at the doorway of the studio, staring at the chaos unfolding around him with his typical expressionless face.
"Why do you all look like the world just ended?" he asked flatly.
Ben, hunched over his phone with the dead eyes of a man defeated by the internet, mumbled, "Because that's exactly how it feels."
Sean dropped his bag and peered over Ben's shoulder. He squinted at the screen. "...Why are you watching a woman dancing with hula hoops?"
"It's research," Ben snapped.
"Props," Terrence added helpfully, not looking up.
Sean blinked. "Oh. That's easier than I expected."
Ben turned to him like he'd just confessed to being a time traveler. "Excuse me? We're being told to conjure an entire routine from thin air, using a random object, in front of judges, in one of the most high-stakes rounds of this competition, and you think it's easy?"
Sean shrugged. "If the prop is manageable, yes."
Ben looked like he was going to spontaneously combust. "Manageable?!"
Without responding, Sean took out his phone and pulled something up. He tapped a few times, then handed it over to Ben.
It was a video.
Ben watched as a lone idol danced across a dim stage, trailing a long, white cloth. The movements were fluid and aching with grace.
Terrence leaned in. "Oh. That's BTS's Jimin. I know this solo. He looks ethereal."
Sean nodded. "It's short, but unforgettable."
Daniel paused his freestyling to look. Even Kai put his ukulele down and walked over.
"Whoa," Kai said softly.
Daniel's eyes sparkled. "I've seen this so many times, and it still leaves me breathless."
Sean's gaze flicked to Daniel. "He studied modern dance like you, hyung. That cloth is hard to work with. It wraps, tangles, and you need complete control."
Everyone nodded, mesmerized.
Daniel tilted his head. "Have you danced with props before?"
Sean hesitated before nodding. "Yeah."
They all stared at him like he'd just revealed he'd been secretly training with Cirque du Soleil.
Sean blinked. "What?"
Ben reached out dramatically and clasped Sean's wrist, eyes glowing. "Teach us."
And just like that, Sean, expressionless, logical, and totally unbothered, was roped in as their official (and unwilling) prop-dance guru for the next six days.