Street Dance Battle – Park Ha-ra's Defeat
Street Dance Battle. Park Ha-ra. (18) Haneul Arts High School sophomore, dance club vice president. Hobby: tormenting newbies. Achievements: Street Dance Battle, 3rd place.
Among the prodigies gathered at Haneul Arts High School's dance club, the one with the most outstanding talent was sophomore Park Ha-ra. She'd only started dancing after entering high school, but she'd boldly claimed third place in a national street dance battle.
National 3rd place. An achievement she'd earned in just one year of dancing.
Not only her fellow club members but even the notoriously strict advisor teacher praised her talent. But was that praise too much? At some point, Ha-ra became utterly absorbed in her own gift. Her skill bred confidence, and that confidence turned into a sense of superiority. And superiority like that was bound to make her look down on others.
The biggest victims? The new recruits, of course.
"What? A newbie showed up!?"
Lee Ha-neul, the dance club president, shot up from her seat during lunch upon hearing the news. The club room currently held only Ha-ra. It was obvious she'd be pulling some nasty prank on the newbie again. As president, Ha-neul couldn't let that slide. She hurriedly swallowed her remaining food and bolted out of the cafeteria.
That damn girl...
Ha-ra had a ritual for every new recruit: breaking their spirit. Under the guise of an entrance test, she'd crush their confidence and nitpick every little mistake to instill the club's hierarchy.
"If you don't have the skills, you won't last in this world anyway." That was Ha-ra's go-to line.
It was the opposite of Ha-neul's approach, which emphasized fun and enjoyment in club activities. Ha-ra always prioritized practicality and results above all. Ha-neul disapproved, but she couldn't really say anything. Ha-ra's skills were leagues ahead—in dancing and leadership alike. She had to admit it; the results spoke for themselves.
Still, there were lines that couldn't be crossed.
"If you've made another newbie cry..."
If Ha-ra had gone too far with her venomous words this time, Ha-neul wouldn't hold back.
"Hey! Park Ha-ra!"
She flung open the club room door and froze at the sight before her. It was the complete opposite of what she'd expected.
"Uh...?"
The room was dead silent. The usually cocky Ha-ra sat slumped against the wall in a daze, while the freshman who looked like the newbie awkwardly scratched the back of her head.
"..."
Ha-ra looked utterly defeated, like a soldier who'd lost a battle.
What the hell happened here...?
The sophomore's dance had flaws in the details. Her basics were solid, but the transitions between moves weren't smooth. Some paths felt overly forceful. It seemed like she was more focused on rushing through memorized choreography than riding the rhythm.
And that made sense. The routine she'd just shown was from a brand-new song, fresh off the charts. How many times could she have practiced it in that short window? Nailing it that closely was impressive enough.
"Think you can copy it? If it's too hard, we can switch to something else."
"No."
This was only my second time seeing the choreography. Once on TV, once right in front of me. No other viewings, no practice. And yet, I was confident I could do it better than her.
Because my specialty was copy dancing.
One look, and I grasped the flow. Two looks, and I caught the beat. After that, my body moved on its own. This wasn't honed through effort—it was innate talent. One of the driving forces behind my idol success.
~♪ Matching the song, I mimicked the senior's routine. But it wasn't mere imitation. While copying her moves, I refined the rough spots my way—adjusting rhythms where they faltered, smoothing transitions where they stuttered. What started as a copy evolved into my own unique flow.
Her dance lingered in memory alone. Mine was alive in the moment.
"Whew."
Finishing the routine, I glanced at the senior. She sat against the wall like a routed soldier, head bowed, silent. It wasn't a formal battle, but she'd acknowledged her loss. Someone with just pride wouldn't look that dejected. She had insight—and self-awareness, too. If she grew from this, she'd become a great dancer someday.
As an industry senior, a word of comfort was in order.
"Your dancing wasn't bad, sunbae."
That seemed to hit harder, because she sprang up, eyes blazing. Her already fierce gaze turned feral.
"Don't get cocky! That dance was new—I hadn't practiced much. If I'd done my best routine, it would've been different...!"
"That's enough."
The third-year senior who'd slipped into the room clamped a hand over the second-year's mouth as she yelled at me.
"Park Ha-ra, cut it out. What kind of vice president bullies a freshman like this?"
"Mmph!"
With her movements sealed, the second-year could only growl in place. She looked just like a rabid dog muzzled shut.
"You're Kim Siyeon, right? I'm Lee Ha-neul, the dance club president. The advisor already told me about you."
"Nice to meet you."
Unlike the second-year, the third-year had a gentle vibe. It eased my nerves a bit. I'd half-expected the whole club to be prickly types.
"I want to join the club..."
I said, glancing warily at the second-year.
"I saw your entrance test, but what's the verdict?"
"We don't really have formal entrance tests..."
The third-year trailed off, then turned to the second-year with a perfect timing smile.
"Ha-ra, she's asking. What's the entrance test result? Tell her yourself—right now."
There was a thorny edge to her words. The second-year whipped her head away irritably and muttered,
"Why ask the obvious? She passed."
"There you go. Here's the application form."
I filled out the handed-over form and submitted it right away. The third-year scanned it with a pleased expression.
"You've been dancing for just a year, huh? Same as our Ha-ra. So, Ha-ra? Got any senior advice for your junior?"
The second-year's brow twitched, but she finally spoke grudgingly.
"E-ear over here."
She beckoned like she had a secret. When I leaned in, she whispered super softly,
"Wear spandex shorts under your skirt next time you come to the club room."
Then she grinned like she'd landed a solid hit.
I hadn't bothered with spandex since I figured we wouldn't dance in school uniforms. My face burned. I yanked my skirt down, but it was too late. The second-year was still smirking, while the oblivious third-year just congratulated me on joining.
I wanted to bolt.
"Excuse me. I'll start club activities tomorrow."
I fled the room. Just then, someone outside ducked into the hallway shadows. By the time I turned, even their shadow was gone.
"Another club member?"
As I tilted my head, the third-year rushed out after me.
"Wait, Siyeon! Got time after school today?"
"After school? Hang on..."
I checked my phone schedule. Afternoon was free, luckily.
"Yeah, I think so. Why?"
"It's been ages since we got a new member, so how about a club dinner? You in?"
She asked cautiously. A welcome party for the newbie—me skipping out would be awkward.
"Sure, I'll go."
I accepted readily.
**
After school. The club members—about 20 in total (8 guys, 12 girls)—headed to a karaoke spot near school. True to dance club form, the energy was electric from the start. Someone sang, and dancers popped up naturally. It felt less like karaoke and more like a mini concert hall.
Stuck in the middle, I quietly sipped my drink. It must've looked awkward, because Ha-neul sunbae tried striking up conversation.
"Siyeon, wanna pick a song?"
She offered the remote keyboard. I shook my head frantically.
"I-I'm a terrible singer..."
I could fake dance skills, but my unique timbre? No way to hide it. To dodge more pressure, I pivoted the topic.
"B-by the way, are there any dance competitions? I need performance credits kinda urgently..."
Performance credits. That's why I'd joined—to snag some from a decent-sized event and avoid grade retention.
"Whoa, so motivated already? We have comps every quarter, so no worries. The soonest one... found it. This."
She showed me her phone. A dance competition poster filled the screen.
"Street Dance Battle?"
"It's a solo or team battle tournament. Pretty famous—placing there should net you solid credits."
Perfect for me. Two weeks from now. Tight timeline, but with copy dancing as my ace, a podium spot was doable.
"What? You're entering that one too?"
Second-year sunbae Park Ha-ra glared at me, competitive fire blazing.
"Perfect. I'm in it too."
Her face screamed time to show you who's boss. Looked like I'd been marked on day one.
"Hmph."