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dodgeahex · 4 years ago

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Seulgi's love of dance is prematurely halted by the unpredictable. What kind of twisted reality made her true love the thing that could kill her?

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Poise.

Grace.

Sweat.

Artistry.

Strength.

At the age of three, most children have their own take of the world. Pure minds and extraordinary imaginations lead these wonderful bundles of joy with no limitations or expectations. Dreaming of becoming a professional singer, astronaut, or even president every day and night is not seen as absurd; it’s encouraged.

After these rambunctious dreamers begin attending grade school, the heartbreaking truth embeds itself in their little minds. It is very unrealistic, and flat-out impossible, for all their dreams to become reality. Not everyone can be the president or make it big in the music business. Hope becomes discouragement and dreams stay dreams, locked away, and forgotten.

It seems as though parents encourage the corruption of innocent minds by directing the youth in paths that make great amounts of money instead of what they’re really passionate about. Others do not direct at all, leaving them clueless and helpless. Time progresses even more, and eventually, the motivation these innocent children once had is replaced with shiny electronic devices, solitude, or multiple red cups at parties. All have the same mindset: get out of school and venture through the rest of life in a career that is expected.

Dreams are long gone. Reality has taken its toll.

At the age of three, Seulgi was lucky enough that her dream was along the path her parents wanted her to travel. It took one bad visit to the babysitter’s, in which this cheerful toddler and her younger sister Sooyoung voraciously downed numerous boxes of sweets, to drive the tired old woman to the point of quitting. The two had always been particularly hyper without the help of jellybeans and pixie sticks. Seulgi always wondered if the poor lady used the incident as an excuse to finally get her well-deserved time off.

The girls’ mother took this opportunity to introduce the two to her former dream; ballet. Prior to marrying and starting a family, she was known as Bravura Bonhwa for her intricately graceful performances and solos, though a torn tendon quickly ended her career before it could really kick-off. Seulgi eagerly slipped her pastel flats onto her always cold feet and fluffy tutu over her pale frame just to see the glow in her mother’s eyes. The thick air of summer was setting up to bid its farewell for the season, its radiant heat fleeting. Seulgi and Sooyoung each held one of their mother’s hands, skipping across the crosswalk and kicking pebbles, on the way to the nearest ballet studio in downtown Seoul.

At three, one twenty-minute class was all it took for Seulgi to find her passion. Every week, she would insist on rolling her reluctant black hair into a bun by herself before class (which her mom would soon come behind and fix). Mastering the barre and basic routines took no time at all. Once Seulgi turned six, one class a week quickly became three with her begrudging sister trudging along behind her. She didn’t care if the short hour left her with headaches and leg cramps. Twirling, leaping, and being on her toes was all Seulgi was interested in anymore.

She dreamed of becoming a professional ballerina.

Her advancement never seemed to cease. The instructor saw so much potential in the determined, charismatic child that she placed her in a class with the older students. Constellations of red cascaded onto her cheeks, burning hot to the touch, once she first entered. Everyone was taller and more advanced than she had thought them out to be. The brave now ten-year-old bit her lip, sucked her stomach into her back, pushed her chest forward, held her head straight, and persevered.

Catching up was hardly a challenge at all. Fall was in full swing; the cool weather signaled the annual tryouts for The Nutcracker at the studio. Younger students were automatically cast as secondary characters, such as snowflakes, mice, and soldiers. The upper classes, Seulgi included, had the opportunity to dance in lead roles or dance in the very front. Seulgi wasn’t entirely too sure what The Nutcracker was about, but she knew she wanted to be the lead, Clara. She knew this was highly unlikely, seeing as there were still many classes ahead of her, so she set her mind on being a dancer in the front of the line.

Rotating, galloping, and entrechat-ing her way, she found herself becoming a lead soldier for the production.

Now, Seulgi was practicing every chance she got. She wanted to become the best she could be. The passion heating her entire body was evident; against his best wishes, her father uprooted the family from their small home into one slightly bigger so his beloved daughters could have a room to practice in when the studio downtown was closed. Naturally, Seulgi spent all of her free time stretching on the barre or doing pas de chats and delicate pirouettes. Her parents had a hard time coercing her out of the practice room for meals and family time. Even when they were finally able to get the youngsters ready for bed, Seulgi would still use the footboard of her bed as a barre, much to her sister’s annoyance.

“I want to sleep,” Sooyoung would whine, silky hair toppling out of her ponytail and framing her pouty face. “Could you turn off the lights and go to bed?”

“I’ll never get better by sleeping,” Seulgi would smile and continue standing on pointe with her chilled toes.

The price for Seulgi’s love was rapidly adding up. Blisters blotched the entirety of her feet. Her muscles were extremely worn and needed to be deeply rolled. Pointe shoes definitely did not come cheap; with Seulgi’s constant practice, she was wearing through a pair and a half every two weeks. She even started having nosebleeds - something that never used to happen but became pretty regular. Seulgi found it odd that her constant dancing was irritating her nose like that. Nevertheless, the eloquent little soldier would stuff tissue inside her nose, wrap her tender toes in gauze, lace-up her worn-down flats, and continue practicing.

Two weeks before the production, Seulgi’s dream fell like snow over Seoul.

Winter had kissed the skies and allowed its soft snowflakes to blanket the city that never stops. A week before Seulgi and Sooyoung’s tech week, Seulgi was becoming increasingly anxious. The ten-year-old was wearing herself to the bone in an attempt to perfect her solo before the big performance. No matter how high she jumped or how perfectly she stuck her landings, nothing was good enough in her eyes. Exhaustion was slowly consuming her. The only time the lifeless girl slept was when the sleep deprivation took over and she found it too difficult to stand.

On one sluggish walk to the studio with Sooyoung, Seulgi realized she’d forgotten her water bottle. After reassuring her sister that she’d catch up, Seulgi branched off of their normal route to stop in a convenience store. Yawning and furiously rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands in a poor attempt at staying awake, the not-so poised soldier shuffled into the drink aisle. Her dark, glossy eyes scanned the shelves for the water when they caught sight of something else instead.

A week before the production, Seulgi collapsed during dress rehearsal.

Winter hissed and let its frigid winds rustle the city, chilling it to the core. To counteract her fatigue, Seulgi decided to spend her week’s allowance on energy drinks. She had tucked multiple cans into her duffel to sneak into her room after rehearsal. Deciding she was too tired to go to class without one, she popped open a can and started chugging before her sister could get suspicious. The sickening, syrupy-sweet liquid coating her throat was absolutely revolting, but she knew it would give her the energy to continue practicing throughout the week.

Seulgi found herself drowning in her own solace, leading up to her fall. She shut her family out to continue practicing. On the first day of tech week, Seulgi and Sooyoung had set out to go to rehearsal where their parents would pick them up to take them out for a special lunch. Once it came time for class, Seulgi worked herself too hard. The dangerous drinks had her heart beating so rapidly, she could feel it vibrating her chest. Choosing to ignore it, she continued leaping with the rest of the dancers. The rapid beating intensified, adding a dull pain to the mixture. Seulgi tried her hardest to ignore it until it became absolutely unbearable.

Seulgi thought her heart was exploding.

***

At nineteen, Seulgi still didn’t understand her condition, nor did she want to. Waking up to blinding fluorescent lights beating down on your face and different wires attached to your bare chest was not something a normal ten year-old would like to endure. She never expected the thick smell of heavy chemicals clinging to the air to become part of her routine. The feeling of a rough blanket scratching at the back of her arms after the first time she passed out gave her goosebumps while a machine’s excessive beeping droned in her ear.

As Seulgi laced up her, now useless, flats, she thought about when she first learned of her disease. “Stay still sweetheart,” the doctor had rested her hand on top of Seulgi’s. “We’re just finishing up some tests. Once we get you settled into your room, you’ll be able to see your family. How does that sound?”

Seulgi remembered blinking and trying to swallow away the dryness from her mouth. “Tests?”

“Yes, darling,” the older woman had plastered on a smile as hopeful as any hospital could allow. “For your heart condition.”

The doctors said it wasn’t necessarily the fault of the energy drinks, but they did play a part in making her chest hurt and alerting the rest of her body. Seulgi had aortic coarctation—a narrowing of her aorta. Because of this, her heart had to work harder to deliver blood to her body. To Seulgi’s dismay, her mom had always blamed herself for not piecing together the symptoms sooner, but they were easily masked. The headaches, weak muscles, and leg cramps could have easily been attributed to Seulgi always practicing, while the nosebleeds never seemed like a big deal. Unfortunately, the disease wasn’t exactly the problem. The issue was that it had gone undetected for so many years, while Seulgi overexerted herself. The exhaustion, shortness of breath, cough, and lack of appetite were indicators of something much bigger.

It wasn’t just heart disease. It was heart failure.

Had she undergone treatment sooner, and not overworked herself, there was a chance she wouldn’t be sitting on the bench of her old practice room, large woolen sweater concealing her heart monitor and small frame, pining to be able to give her all on the wooden floors once more. Maybe she’d be able to dance, but not as well. Or maybe she’d still be in the same boat with a tattletale piece of equipment taped to her chest letting everyone know what her heart was doing. Due to her most recent chest pains returning, she had to wear the damned thing for two weeks to determine what needed to happen next.

To her right were her daily slew of medications—diuretics, pain relievers, and aids—with a large jug of water and a bowl of fresh fruit, courtesy of her mom. She poked the pills around the bench with her index finger, forming a smiley face. Were they actually helping her anymore? Her chest pains were hardly numbing, and her appetite was replaced by a constant state of nausea. The weakening girl choked down her pills nonetheless and followed up with a few large gulps of water. Reaching under the bench, she grabbed the familiar worn-down flats and began lacing them up her tender feet, because acceptance is the hardest pill to swallow.

Sooyoung had gone onto Seoul’s most elite ballet school while Seulgi was homeschooled. She even got initiated into a ballet company. How was this fair? Sooyoung didn’t even like to dance. What higher power had her sister living her dreams while she was forced to watch from the sidelines anticipating a transplant? Cheeks heating, Seulgi crept to the studio’s door and carefully turned the lock. This was going to be her space until the end.

Seulgi knew she wouldn’t have the strength to do a full routine. Truthfully, she was advised against ballet altogether. All the leaps and twists she craved to experience once more were now too extreme for her failing organ. She was advised to go on short walks instead. How was walking around the block anywhere close to the beautiful feeling of being the lightest person in the room? The stubborn girl pulled out her phone and began queueing up songs. After pressing play on a slow-tempo ballad, Seulgi slowly stood and made her way to the barr.

Seulgi started with small pliés, starting with small squats until her legs were completely bent at her sides. As the song picked up slightly, she moved to stretch her achy legs on the barr. Bending her body to simply touch her toes felt foreign now. Worse, it felt unnatural. How could something she deemed so important become a stranger?

Waiting for the next song to start, Seulgi begged her heart to give her this one moment. Please, she closed her eyes and placed her hand on her monitor. Please just let me feel like me again. When the song finally ended, Seulgi could hear her uneasy breaths counting down to the next. When the song began, she immediately leaped back into her world.

Panting as she twirled, Seulgi bounded through the practice room bringing the old space back to life. She let the melody guide her through the first verse before her chest began to protest. Refusing to give up so soon, she closed her eyes and danced harder. Seulgi danced like it was life or death because it was. She could sit through the rest of her short life yearning for a single chance to dance again, or she could dance and risk her heart giving out. She couldn’t live without dance, yet she couldn’t dance without living… what kind of twisted reality made the only thing worth living for the thing that could take her out?

Closing her eyes, Seulgi began to pirouette. If she could just get through this song unscathed, she’d go back to pouting for weeks before trying again. But this moment was what her body needed all along. This was the kind of medicine fake-friendly doctors couldn’t prescribe. Arabesque. Had her monitor alerted her parents? If they were trying to force the door open, she couldn’t hear over the music. Développé. As Seulgi lifts her leg behind her, she lets out a sharp cry. Her heart was overworked, and she knew she should stop. Clenching her jaw, she ignores her pleading organ to make it through the other half of the song.

Assemblé. Seulgi felt her nose beginning to drip. She knew the familiar crimson would wreak havoc on her clothes, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She was finally free. She was no longer strapped down to earth. She was flying. When Seulgi heard her monitor beeping, her reality slowly came crashing down once more. The beeping was quickly followed by banging on the door, followed by screams begging the fairy to give up her wings. Blood was no longer dripping from her nose; it was pouring. The dam was broken, drenching the front of her sweater.

Before she could get to the second chorus, Seulgi let out a shriek. Once she started crying out in pain, she couldn’t stop. Her body had finally had enough. Every part of her felt like it was on fire, and her vision was practically nonexistent. “Mommy,” the devastated teen screamed, blood dripping from the sides of her mouth. “Daddy!” Slipping on a few drops of blood, Seulgi’s thin frame met the floor with a thud.

Seulgi went up in flames.

#rotate #kang seulgi #seulgi #red velvet #red velvet fanfic #red velvet au #kpop #ballet au

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