Talent Show
I was on my way back to the classroom after a quick bathroom break when I heard a buzz of voices from inside. I quietly opened the door and saw the class in a lively debate.
"Everyone, pay attention."
The class president knocked on the teacher's desk, calming the rowdy atmosphere. On the blackboard behind her were big letters: School Festival D-7. Next week was festival time. I'd been oblivious since I had zero interest in school events. I never planned to participate anyway.
I slipped quietly to my seat like a ghost and sat down. Everyone except me was seriously hyped about what to do for the festival. And they had good reason. Our school, Haneul Arts High School, was pretty famous locally as an arts high school. The festival was on another level compared to regular schools—practically university festival scale. It was the biggest event of the year for the students.
"I'll pass out paper. Write down what you want to do and hand it in. If nothing comes to mind, just turn in a blank sheet—it's fine."
Ga-young handed out paper to everyone. I scribbled the first thing that popped into my head and submitted it. Soon enough, all the papers were in. Ga-young tallied the ideas and started listing suggestions on the board: haunted house, food stalls, game events—you name it, it was there.
Then it happened. The girls in class pointed at one item on the board and unleashed a chorus of boos.
"Who wrote maid cafe?!"
"Stop watching so much anime."
"O Myung-gyu, was it you?"
"N-no, it wasn't me!"
The maid cafe suggestion sparked a full-on girl rebellion, with one guy getting wrongly accused in the chaos. I kept my face neutral and stared out the window. Isn't a maid cafe a festival staple? Felt kinda awkward being the lone outlier.
Anyway, the votes were tallied. We ended up running a restaurant. It was more low-key than I'd hoped, but whatever. It didn't really affect me.
"Class booth is decided: restaurant. Next up, the talent show... Anyone want to perform?"
The real highlight of any school festival is the talent show. When she asked for volunteers, a girl with dyed blonde hair shot her hand up. She was always hanging around with Ga-young—Kim Seul-gi.
"Let's do the talent show as a girl group."
"What genre?"
"Group dance, obviously."
"Hmm."
Seul-gi's friends jumped in with enthusiastic support, and the mood swung that way naturally.
Then it hit.
"Dance isn't a bad idea."
"Come to think of it, our class has..."
Suddenly, everyone glanced my way—with eyes full of expectation.
...What was with them?
Oh. I'd forgotten they knew I'd won first place in that dance competition. It had been such a big deal that the whole class remembered.
"Haha..."
I scratched my cheek awkwardly. Their stares felt extra intense today.
Talent show prep would use PE and lunch breaks. Perfect timing—fourth period was PE.
The girls all headed to the changing room together.
"Siyeon, you coming?"
Ha Yu-ri called out to me, still sitting alone at my desk. I stood up with an embarrassed look.
"...I'll change by myself."
Glasses could slip off while changing, so I always did it separately. Among other reasons. I grabbed my gym clothes from my bag and headed to the bathroom near the classroom. I ducked into a stall, changed, and made sure to put on my glasses strap. No accidents.
In the gym, the girls were gathered in small groups. They swarmed me like they'd been waiting.
I'd agreed to give them a quick dance coaching session. A bit annoying, but not too hard, so why not? Part of school life.
"Picked a song yet?"
"Yeah. This one."
Seul-gi offered me one of her AirPods. I popped it in, and a familiar melody hit.
"A-Star's So What? The choreo's pretty tough—think you guys can handle it?"
I smirked and handed it back.
"I know it. It's one of mine."
"Awesome. Practice now?"
"Warm up first."
Proper stretching before rehearsal is key. Loosens muscles and joints for better moves, plus prevents minor injuries.
"Everyone, five minutes—warm up on your own."
I went to a mat, lightly stretched my limbs. Sat slowly, split my legs wide. Tension pulled through my thighs and hips, rippling up my spine. Deep breath in, then leaned forward till my chest touched the floor.
"Whew."
Exhaled, rose slowly. Then waist, shoulders, neck—one by one. Muscles relaxed; body felt lighter.
Finishing up, I noticed the class staring, wide-eyed. They weren't warming up—just gawking at me.
"...Why are you so flexible?"
"...Like a gymnast or something."
"...Total surprise."
I scratched the back of my head sheepishly.
"I'm in the dance club."
"Oh, right."
They nodded, convinced. Even though I'd only joined two months ago. Luckily, no one questioned it.
"I'll demo first."
I ran through So What?'s choreo lightly. The girls watched in quiet awe, with scattered applause.
"Arms natural like this, feet match the rhythm—small steps."
I broke it down, teaching each part. The eight girls mimicked me spot-on.
"Now chain those moves together."
The first part's simple compared to other choreos. Figured they'd nail it easy.
"Ow!"
"Hey, don't push!"
"Watch your feet!"
Rhythm off, steps tangled, paths colliding—total chaos. For a first run, I didn't expect this bad. Festival in D-7. If we went on like this, dance club kids and practical dance majors would laugh us off stage. As their coach? No way.
"Again."
My motto: do it till it works. Broke it down even more detailed. They followed closely. Steps that'd been awkward started straightening out.
Except one.
"This... is weird. Why won't it work...?"
Ga-young, stuck in the middle, was the only one off-beat. She tried, but every move was sloppy. Tone-deaf? This pace, we'd never finish.
Had to fix her form personally.
"Lemme adjust you. Hold still."
"Huh? Oh, okay..."
I crouched, placed a hand on her waist, tilted her hips right. Adjusted knee angle and foot position with a hand on her thigh.
"Shift your weight forward a bit like..."
Then she shuddered and toppled backward like I'd shocked her.
"Eek!"
"W-what's wrong?"
"...Nothing."
Ga-young dusted her butt and stood, acting casual. But her flushed face and ears gave her away. I felt secondhand embarrassment but pushed on like nothing happened.
"Pose again."
"...Yeah."
She tried. More tense now—sloppier. I put a hand on her thigh to correct.
She trembled faintly, body rigid like enduring something awful.
I pulled my hand away, pouting a little. Confirmed my suspicion.
She hates my touch that much? Honestly, kinda hurt.
...I thought we were pretty close.