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kpopfanfictrash · 4 years ago

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Raise the Barre (Ch. 8)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: underage drinking, angst, hoseok’s bare abs

Word Count: 10,705

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.

“Okay, even you have to admit this is too soon.” Finn stared, appalled at the chalkboard. “It’s not even Halloween!”

Laughing a little, you looped your arm around his to drag him towards the back. Plopping down in a chair, you placed your order number in the center of the table. Seating himself across the table from you, Finn began to undo his coat.

“Come on.” He grinned, brown hair flopping when he leaned forward. “Admit it – this is too early for holiday drinks.”

“Okay, maybe it’s a little early,” you acquiesced. “But Halloween is tomorrow! They probably just put up the holiday drinks so they don’t have to do it on Sunday.”

“Laziness!” he cried, jabbing a finger in the air.

Shaking your head, you smiled when Namjoon, the barista, placed a pumpkin soy latte before you.

“Thanks!” you said, pulling this towards you.

“No problem,” he said, flashing his dimples before he turned to leave.

Taking a long, slow sip of your drink, you groaned. “Oh my god. This is it. This is heaven.”

Finn laughed. “Is that seriously your first pumpkin drink of the season?” Sadly, he shook his head. “I remember our senior year, you dragged me out of bed at 7:00 AM on a Saturday just to get the first pumpkin drink of the year.”

“I know,” you sighed. “But I’ve needed the extra caffeine jolt each morning. Sweet drinks just don’t cut it anymore.”

“Ah, the first step in addiction.” Finn nodded sagely.

Smiling, you settled back in your seat as he took the first sip of his black coffee. It had been two weeks since your fight at the club and since then, Finn had been on his best behavior. For about a week, things between you had been awkward but slowly, your relationship was returning to normal.

Seated in the corner of your favorite coffee shop, you drank from your cup and glanced around the room. This was what you’d pictured when you imagined you and Finn living in the city together. Coffee dates, going on new adventures and continuing your relationship where it had left off.

Of course, this morning was only possible because Miss Britt’s ballet class had been cancelled. A contemporary master class had been scheduled for the afternoon, but your day before then was free – something you’d immediately taken advantage of by calling Finn. It was becoming easier to fit each other into your schedules, more like second nature, but things were still tense whenever things didn’t line up.

None of this was eased by the burgeoning whatever-it-was you’d shoved to the back of your mind regarding Jimin. Since the day of Mr. Vlad’s ballet class, you’d managed to keep your emotions in check, but were constantly on the lookout for dangerous situations. You and Jimin were professionals, obviously, but you were also only human. It was reasonable to have subconscious wants and desires, but these weren’t important unless you chose to act upon them.

You didn’t tell Finn about it because honestly, there was nothing to tell. Okay, so you’d felt an errant spark one day during a lift. Big deal. Finn had been your boyfriend for over two years – it would take more than that to threaten your relationship. A relationship which, frankly, had been getting stronger as of late. Telling him something as inconsequential as a spark you had with Jimin would only take you further down the wrong path.

“Are you sure you’re okay with us doing separate things tomorrow?” Finn interrupted your thoughts. His brow furrowed. “It is Halloween, after all.”

“Ah, yes.” You nodded. “Halloween, the internationally known couple’s holiday.”

He laughed. “Okay, point made – but still.”

“It’s fine,” you assured him. This was something you’d already been over. “It just makes sense like this! Your friends are going to that off-campus party and I promised Noelle I’d go to this club thing with her.”

“Right, of course.” Finn grinned. “I’m bummed I’ll miss seeing you as the Powerpuff girls, though. Who’s going to be the third one, again?”

“Well, I’m Blossom – obviously.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “Miss Responsibility.”

A twinge of annoyance went through you, but you pushed it aside. You didn’t think you were always the responsible one but admittedly, you’d been more on edge than usual lately.

“Anyways,” you continued with a roll of your eyes. “I’m Blossom, Noelle is Buttercup and Irene is going as Bubbles. It’ll be fun! Aside from the whole club part, of course.”

“It does sound fun,” Finn admitted, a tad mournful. “Meanwhile, I’ve been roped into the classic college bro costume of Ghostbusters.”

“Oh, come on! That is classic! You’ll be super cute in your… suit? Cargo pants? What do Ghostbusters wear again?”

“Knowing Ben, something tragic from Party City. Pray for me.”

“I’ll light candles.”

Finn grinned, sipping his coffee again and your conversation slipped naturally to other topics.

Halloween fell on a Saturday this year, which meant every college campus was gearing up for some epic parties. Noelle had managed to snag tickets to a club fancy enough to require an RSVP. Apparently, said brother she missed was a DJ and could get tickets to a lot of things if Noelle bothered to ask.

A bunch of people from Russet were going, which made you excited. There hadn’t been many parties with your classmates so far this semester. Despite technically being in college, your classmates were all under the same intense pressure, only made worse by constant early morning ballet.

This week though, even your teachers seemed to have decided you needed a break. Aside from the master class you had this afternoon, there were zero Russet classes until Monday morning. The break in schedule meant you could actually go out – and drink – if you so decided. You and Noelle were planning on attending a ballet class tomorrow, but your entire day after would be free.

You’d originally planned on seeing Finn during the day, but then he’d been invited to a Halloween darty (day party) starting at noon. Despite not seeing Finn on Halloween, you weren’t feeling stressed. It was only one holiday and not even a couple’s one, as you’d said.

After coffee, you kissed Finn goodbye and headed to class at Danley Hall. The atmosphere was different as soon as you entered the classroom – all of the students were buzzing, excited by the prospect of the weekend ahead. The excitement only grew when coupled with the fact that today’s class was contemporary.

For nearly two months, your training had been mostly ballet. This was the foundation of all western dance, and where most dance students were expected to start. Finally though, you were being given a chance to show off. Today’s teacher, Luna Jordan, was a well-known contemporary choreographer across the globe.

You’d done a master class with her once back in high school and honestly couldn’t wait to learn from her again. She wasn’t alone, though, you noticed as you walked in – an unfamiliar, dark-haired guy stood beside her, stretching lithely before the room’s mirror.

“Holy shit,” Noelle whispered as she came to a stop. “That’s Jeon Jungkook.”

Startled, you looked twice and saw she was right. You hadn’t recognized him without his bevy of followers, but Jeon Jungkook was known in the dance world. A child prodigy, he’d been on America’s Got Talent at age eleven and finished in second place. Following this, his family had moved to LA and he’d been in high demand for movies, music videos and performances ever since.

You remembered hearing he worked with Luna Jordan, but the thought hadn’t crossed your mind before now that he might be here.

Noelle cocked her head to one side. “He’s hot.”

“Noelle,” you hissed, trying to shush her.

“What!” A devious grin spread across her face. “Am I supposed to be blind, as well as mute?”

“Well, no, but –”

“Alright, everyone!” Miss Luna clapped her hands together. “I know everyone is excited for the weekend, but we unfortunately have an hour and a half together before then. Everyone spread out for warm-ups!”

A few people laughed, spreading out on the floor as class began. Noelle wriggled her eyebrows, pulling you towards the front in order to get the best spot. Hiding a smile, you ducked your head and settled beside her into a stretch.

Noelle was nearly as excited as you were for the opportunity to dance contemporary. Most of your classmates knew this to be your forte – you caught glances from the corner of your eye while you warmed up, trying not to let their attention get to your head.

Jimin was also near the front, although on the opposite side. You suspected your class was equally excited to see him perform – as talented as Jimin was at ballet, there was a reason you hadn’t thought he’d be at Russet this fall. Jimin’s strength in jazz and contemporary was unparalleled. You would’ve thought he’d gone to LA to become a dancer like Jungkook.

Speaking of whom – Jungkook really was attractive; that much couldn’t be denied. He had dark, wavy hair pulled into a bun and cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. When he glanced up from his stretch, his gaze somehow found yours and he smiled.

Eyes widening, you stared until you caught sight of Jimin behind him. Glancing between the two of you, Jimin’s expression soured before he looked away. Lips parting, you felt the sudden urge to say something, but there was too much distance between you.

“You ready?” Miss Luna called, an upbeat pop song blasting from the stereo. “Let’s go!”

She launched into isolations, leaving the rest of the class to follow. Warm-ups passed quickly and before you knew it, you were gathered at center to learn the combination. Miss Luna’s style was right up your alley. The steps came easily and, once you’d learned the whole chorus, she left you alone to practice.

You were helping Ari with a difficult move when you caught sight of Sabrina as you turned. She’d positioned herself near the back, which had to be a first. Usually, Sabrina was front and center to allow for maximum receipt of teacher praise.

The decision to stand near the back could’ve been strategy – sometimes, dancers did that at conventions. Conventions were giant weekends of competition with teachers from all over the globe who taught master classes to hundreds of dancers in hotel ballrooms and convention centers. Space at the front tended to be limited, so some stayed at the back, where there was more room to dance and be seen. You had a greater likelihood to capture the teacher’s attention when you had the room to do incredible leaps.

Sabrina’s decision didn’t seem strategic, though. While you watched, Sabrina stumbled transitioning from one move to the next. A brief twinge of pity went through you.

It was easy enough to spot ballerinas dancing anything but ballet. Although ballet was the root of modern westernized dance, it could be hard to translate into other styles. Ballet was more rigid than contemporary, jazz or hip-hop. In ballet, each position was defined, individual style was limited, and dancers were expected to all look the same. Standing out in the corps de ballet was equally frowned upon as missing an entrance.

Not that ballet wasn’t important to all dance styles, mind you. Even hip-hop dancers took ballet to improve their balance, core strength and general understanding of the body. There was an element of individuality in other dance styles, though, which lacked in ballet. Contemporary and hip-hop dancers were expected to have relentless technique all while creating their own, unique flair.

Just looking at Sabrina you could clearly see the holes. She was trying so hard to emulate the moves of Miss Luna, she was kind of missing the point. When Miss Luna did a certain flick of the wrist, it wasn’t a defined part of the choreography, but rather an individual choice.

Without thinking, you took a step forward – only to stop. Sabrina wouldn’t want your help; she’d already made that abundantly clear. Besides, you knew her friend Katie to be a contemporary dancer. She could help Sabrina and yet, when you looked, you saw Katie practicing near the front with Jungkook.

Jungkook obviously knew the steps, since this was probably the tenth time he’d learned the combination. Dance teachers often did that – selected a dancer to attend classes with them, traveling to different cities to demonstrate the combination and help when they weren’t free.

Before you could decide whether to help Sabrina, Miss Luna clapped her hands again.

“Let’s do groups!” she declared. “I’ll count you off into groups of four, and each group will showcase. Sound good?”

It wasn’t really a question so much as an announcement. The rest of the class nodded, waiting while Miss Luna counted you off. You ended up in the same group as Irene, Paulo and a few others. Jimin and Noelle were in the group two, while Sabrina was in the group after theirs.

Jogging off to the side, you waited while the first group took center. You were part of group four, which meant you’d be amongst the last to dance on the floor. When the music began, you closed your eyes and began to mark the combination. You tried not to focus on what anyone else was doing, but this became difficult once Noelle’s group stepped up.

Noelle had trained in jazz and contemporary, although she’d stopped in high school to focus mainly on ballet. Still, her artistry shone in her movement. She could definitely stand to loosen up a bit but was still one of the best in the bunch. You found yourself smiling when she landed a turn, silently cheering her on from the side.

While you were watching, Jimin cut across your vision.

Dropping to the ground, he rolled and arched as his forehead brushed wood. His quality of movement was breathtaking and for a moment, you felt like you were back in high school.

Suddenly returned to those dimmed auditoriums, you watched Jimin take the stage like an otherworldly being. His body seemed to move before your mind could comprehend. Barely did he finish one move before he was starting another, the steps flowing endlessly together like unhindered water. Although you knew the combination and knew how you would dance it, watching Jimin perform was a different experience entirely.

Ballet required dancers to stay on the beat but in contemporary, they were expected to lag. Extensions were all the more breathtaking when they clung to the last second, seeming as though the dancer might not make it before they caught up. Jimin was an expert in this, knowing exactly when to hang precariously over the edge and when to pull back.

Watching him dance, that pesky, strange something bloomed in your chest again.

Squashing this quickly, you looked away and resumed marking the combo. The end of the song was improvisation though and, unable to stop yourself, you found your attention drifting to Jimin again. He was ridiculously beautiful – you nearly didn’t hear when Miss Luna called for them to stop. As she turned off the music, she applauded the group while they walked from the floor.

Breathing heavily, Noelle came to a stop alongside you and – somewhat guiltily, since you hadn’t been watching – you gave her a high-five.

“That was awesome!” you said with a grin. “You definitely stood out in the group.”

Noelle snort-laughed. “Not with Jimin up there, but that’s okay. This is his specialty – and yours,” she added with a wink. “I’m psyched for group four.”

“Ah,” you groaned, rubbing your neck. “Too much pressure.”

Noelle laughed, shaking her head as group three took the floor. Both of you fell silent to watch, your curious gaze finding Sabrina in the back. Sabrina looked almost nervous; an emotion which seemed out of place on her features. It made her look almost human.

As soon as the music began, you stifled a wince. Sabrina stood out from the group, and not in a good way. She had the combination down but moved with a woodenness you would’ve expected from someone half her age. It was enough for you to glance at Miss Luna, wondering if she had noticed.

“Wow,” Noelle whispered, looking almost gleeful. “Sabrina is terrible.”

“Noelle!” you whisper-laughed.

“What? After everything she’s done? After everything she’s said?” Noelle’s gaze narrowed. “Sabrina deserves this.”

Despite privately agreeing, you couldn’t help but feel bad as Sabrina continued. Not wanting to watch any longer, you turned towards the front and resumed marking the combo. As soon as Miss Luna cut the music and polite clapping ensued, you turned back around.

It was time for group four. A shaky, sick feeling entered your stomach as you walked to center. So many eyes were on you, but it had been so long since you danced contemporary. You couldn’t help but wonder if you were as good as people seemed to imagine. Surrounded by so many dancers at Russet, surely your own talent would pale in comparison.

As soon as the music began though, everything faded. Insecurities slipping away, a lightness entered your chest as, eyes falling shut, you slowly inhaled.

Taking a step forward, you opened your eyes and began.

To you, dance had several phases. The first was learning, where you memorized each step and put them in order. The second was understanding, where your muscle memory began to take over and the combination felt smoother. The final phase, performance, was when you thought not of the steps, and were free to just dance.

This was your favorite phrase. In this phase, your mind separated from your body, leaving you only with sweat and emotion. Dance was the only art form composed solely of the body. An odd combination of physical strength and artistic beauty, it was both a testament to human capability and human emotion.

Losing yourself in the music, you ebbed and flowed through the combination until the choreography ended and improvisation began. Finally, you let go and held nothing back. Raw, unbridled passion poured out as you lost sight of yourself, so consumed by the movement.

When the song finally finished and you came to a stop, you were panting for breath. Glancing up, the first person you saw was Jimin.

He stood off to one side, leaning casually against the rungs of the barre, but his expression was anything but. Focused on you, his gaze had turned dark in a way which made you catch your breath.

Miss Luna clapped both hands once again, returning your attention to her. Blinking, Jimin shook his head and in your peripheral, you saw him straighten.

“Very good!” Miss Luna scanned the group. “I know our time is nearly at and end, but why don’t we have a few students come out and demonstrate?”

Again, this was fairly common in master classes. After learning the combination, teachers would often single out students to perform as examples. It wasn’t always the students with the best technique who got chosen. Oftentimes, it was as much for passion and performance quality.

Taking a step forward, Miss Luna began to call out names. You were one of the first – setting your water down, you jogged back to center. Jimin was the next person called, then Noelle, much to your excitement. Jungkook was also instructed to join on the floor.

Turning the lights halfway down, Miss Luna pressed play and let you improvise until the combination began. Jungkook started dancing and honestly, he was beautiful, but you couldn’t linger on him for long.

Catching sight of Jimin again, you were once more transported to earlier times. This wasn’t the first time you’d been called out together. Oftentimes, this had happened at conventions but back then, your mind had been too clouded to see him for who he was.

You’d always wanted to beat him in high school, but now, you were consumed by the oddest desire to see him do well.

Glancing up, Jimin caught your gaze and he smiled – but then, the combination began.

By the time you were finished, you could hardly catch your breath but somehow, you felt the most alive you’d been in ages. Back in your own element, surrounded by some of the most amazing dancers in the world – this was what you’d imagined when you came to Russet.

People around the room clapped, some of them begrudgingly. You got the impression many of your classmates weren’t used to not being chosen. As you walked from the floor, you saw surprisingly, Sabrina wasn’t amongst them.

Instead, Sabrina simply looked tired – as though she’d tried her best and it hadn’t been enough. You knew that look. You sympathized with that look.

The look lingered in the back of your mind while you packed up your things and listened to Noelle discuss Halloween tomorrow. When she mentioned Ari had decided to visit her family this weekend, an idea began to form in your mind.

“Wait,” you interrupted, looking up. “Ari can’t come tomorrow?”

Noelle shook her head. “Her brother just turned eighteen, so her whole family is having a party or something.”

“So… her ticket is free, then?”

“Yes…” Noelle paused. “Why? Y/N, what are you planning?”

“Okay. Hear me out,” you said as you shrugged on your coat. It was cold enough now for the coat to be necessary.

Noelle sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Alright, I’m listening.”

Glancing away, you saw Sabrina packing her things on the other side of the room. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you returned to Noelle.

“What if we invited Sabrina?”

Noelle snorted. “Pass.”

“Noelle,” you laughed, reaching out for her arm. “Come on! Do you really think she’s doing anything for Halloween?”

“Probably not. And that’s her own fault.”

“Maybe,” you said, glancing at Sabrina once more. “But how could it hurt? We have an extra ticket, there’ll be tons of people tomorrow night. She’ll probably say no – at least this way, you can claim a write-off on your way into heaven!”

Noelle upper lip twitched. “Oh, is that how write-offs work?”

“Well, I can only assume.”

Finally, she laughed. “Ugh, fine. You can invite her – but only because it’s Halloween, and Halloween is a time for peace. And slutty costumes.”

“Thanks, babe,” you said, squeezing her waist in a one-armed hug.

Sighing exaggeratedly, Noelle waved aside your thanks. Hiking your bag higher, you began to make your way across the room. As you closed in on Sabrina, you began to rethink your choice. It had been nearly a month since anything bad had happened between you but still, you found yourself feeling wary. As tough as you pretended to be, rejection hurt you just as much as the next person.

Still, dancing with Jimin had been a reminder of just how bitter your relationship used to be. If that relationship could change, you had to imagine things with Sabrina could, too.

Coming to a stop at her bag, you waited for her to look up. When she finally did, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

“What?” Sabrina asked, sounding defensive. “What do you want, Y/N?”

You couldn’t really blame her for her suspicion. Had your situations been reversed, you would’ve been equally distrustful. It was likely Sabrina thought you were coming over to gloat, or say something to do with class today. Another twinge of pity went through you as Sabrina zipped her bag shut to stand.

“I just wanted to know what you were doing tomorrow,” you said, trying to smile. “Noelle has an extra ticket to a Halloween party, and we thought you might like to come.”

Sabrina stared. “What?”

“Tomorrow is Halloween,” you said, a bit slower. “You know – when we were kids, it was all about costumes and candy. Now, it’s about costumes and booze?”

Sabrina failed to crack a smile. “And you want… me to come to this party?”

Something about the way she said this made you sad, as though she genuinely thought this might be a joke. As though at any moment, someone might jump out and yell SIKE.

“Yeah,” you said, softening a little. “Look – it’s not a big deal if you can’t make it. A bunch of our class is going though, so we thought of you.”

Sabrina hesitated, then glanced at the door. “Okay,” she said, looking back. “Okay, yeah. I’ll come.”

Stifling your surprise, you nodded. “Great. I’ll text you where to meet us tomorrow before the club. Wear a costume,” you added before walking away. “Noelle said it’s required.”

“Alright,” Sabrina said, so quiet you almost missed it.

Walking away, you were nearly at the door when Jungkook popped up before you. Flashing a smile, he fixed a loose strand of hair away from his face. Feet fumbling to a stop, you could only stare.

“Y/N, right?” he said, sounding shy.

Unable to find the words, you blinked in response. The way Jungkook danced had been so confident, you’d only assumed this to be his off-floor persona, as well. Hearing him sound shy was unexpected.

Also – you hadn’t expected him to know your name.

“I… yeah, that’s me.” Shaking your head, you smiled. “Jungkook, right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I just wanted to say I’m such a big fan of your dancing. It was great to take class with you today.”

Without meaning to, a laugh escaped your lips. Jungkook stared at you, baffled until you quickly waved him off.

“Oh, no – no! Sorry,” you said. “I’m not laughing at you! I’m just laughing at the ridiculousness of you saying you’re a fan of me.”

Some of Jungkook’s wariness disappeared, and a small smile played across his lips.

“Well, I am.” His grin widened. “I used to assist on the convention circuit, too and I remember you being called out all the time. You and Jimin,” he added, glancing across the room.

You looked, too and saw Jimin still packing his things. His back was stiff, pointedly not looking in your direction. Lingering on him a moment, you returned to Jungkook.

“Still,” you said with a laugh. “It’s a bit of a stretch to say we took class together when you’re the teacher’s assistant.”

“True.” Jungkook paused. “Well, next time you’re in LA, let’s fix that. Let me know if you’re ever in town and we can take a class together.”

Despite yourself, your brows raised. It was harmless, but Jungkook was definitely flirting with you. He was attractive, sure and seemed nice, but he lived in LA and you had a boyfriend. You should probably leave before things had the chance to go any further. The last thing you needed was another complication. Adjusting your bag, you gave Jungkook a small smile.

“Sounds like a plan,” you said before turning away.

Jungkook chuckled from behind. “Bye, Y/N.”

As you joined Noelle at the door, she stared over your shoulder.

“What?” you said, coming to a stop.

Noelle’s gaze moved to yours in disbelief. “How?” she demanded as you exited class. “How do you have all these men just… tripping over themselves for you?”

Heat rising to your face, you shook your head. “That’s – I,” you sputtered. “You’re being ridiculous!”

“Am I?” Noelle grinned. “First Jimin, now Jungkook… and all this while having a boyfriend.”

“I… you... Jimin is not tripping over himself for me!”

Both her brows shot way, way up. “Is that the only part of the sentence you took objection to?”

“Shut up,” you groaned and shoved her in the side.

Noelle laughed but nodded. “Alright, fine! I’ll stop. Did Sabrina say she’ll come?”

“She did.”

“Great. I still don’t like her,” Noelle said, pushing open the door. “But I guess you’re right, I have an extra ticket. It’s nice to be nice.”

You laughed, pulling your coat tighter as you walked outside. “You’re a saint.”

While you walked, your phone dinged and pulling this from your pocket, you saw a notification on Instagram. Jeon_Jungkook97 has followed you.

Shaking your head, you returned this to your jacket as you continued. While it was nice of Jungkook to compliment your dancing, his approval didn’t mean as much as certain other peoples had. This realization stuck in your mind, making you wonder about Noelle’s teasing jibe.

She had said Jimin flirted with you, but that wasn’t true – was it? You would have known if Jimin were flirting. It was hard to pick out though, since Jimin was friendly with everyone. That was just who he was; as he’d said earlier, he liked to be liked. A note of uncertainty entered your thoughts though, recalling the ballet class with your chest pressed to his. Shoving this away, you forced yourself to focus on the upcoming weekend.

Halloween was a night for fun, for letting loose and enjoying yourself with your friends. You refused to let the night be spoiled by any lingering feelings – either from you, or towards you.

The next night was perfect Halloween weather.

Chilly, but not cold enough to risk snow falling. There were several Halloweens from childhood you could recall trick-or-treating with a winter coat flung over your costume because the temperature had dropped below freezing.

You, Noelle and Irene showed up to Paulo’s house around 8:00 PM, shivering a little while you stood on his doorstep. Paulo was one of the few freshmen who lived off-campus, having known several upperclassmen before he came to Russet. The brownstone he lived in was cute, with window boxes you imagined hosted flowers in the summer.

Tugging your pink and black minidress down, you adjusted your bow as Paulo opened the door.

Blinking, he took in your costumes. “The Powerpuff girls!” He cheered, raising an arm overhead. “Try not to take down any of the villains upstairs, yeah?”

“No promises,” said Irene, flicking hair over her shoulder.

Entering the house, you heard thumping bass from an apartment upstairs. Paulo lived on the third floor and as you climbed the steps, the music grew louder. It took Paulo two tries to shove open the door – “warped wood,” he explained – but once you were inside, you saw familiar faces.

“The Powerpuff girls!” Jasmine cried, jumping up from the couch. “Finally! Thank god – can you take down Eamon? He came here dressed as a potato, or something.”

“It’s an avocado!” Eamon shouted from the kitchen. He was dressed in a round, green costume with a halo overhead. “I’m ‘holy guacamole’ – get it?” he said, pointing at the halo.

Jasmine stared at him a moment. “That’s terrible. Worse than mine,” she said with a wave down her body. “I’ve been Princess Jasmine for the past five Halloweens. It’s easy to remember and I already have the outfit.”

Laughing, you shrugged off your coat and added this to a pile on the couch. “It’s a classic,” you agreed as you turned.

Noelle had managed to procure at least twenty tickets to the party tonight, so a lot of your freshman Russet class was in attendance. Including Sabrina, who stood in the corner, talking to Louis over cups of red punch. She looked up when you entered, pausing before she gave a small wave. Surprised by the gesture, you did the same.

“No.” Noelle groaned, coming to a stop alongside you. When you looked, you saw she’d already removed her coat. “Tell me Sabrina didn’t come to this party dressed as a ballerina.”

“We did invite her at the last minute,” you laughed. “Hard to find a good Halloween costume in a day.”

“Hey,” Noelle argued. “There’s no we here. You were the one who invited her, and you’ll be the one to accept the consequences should your social experiment fail.”

“Done,” you agreed. “Speaking of social experiments though, I’m ready to get drunk tonight. Where’s the alcohol?”

“Kitchen!” Irene called, brushing past. “Or – that’s where Brian disappeared to when we entered, so I can only assume.”

Telling Noelle you’d be back with drinks, you wound through the room towards where Irene had pointed. The kitchen was tiny, on par with most city apartments. There was only room enough for one or two people, so you were lucky it was deserted when you entered.

Surveying the counter, you found the usual party staples. A bowl of red punch, a bunch of beer and various liquor bottles with chasers. Skipping over the communal punch bowl, you reached for a bottle of diet coke and coconut rum.

“Oh,” a voice said as they entered the kitchen. “Sorry – I didn’t know you were in here.”

Glancing up, you saw Jimin and froze.

He’d dyed his hair black – that was the first thing you noticed. Jimin’s hair was no longer blonde, but completely dark. His outfit confused you at first – a frilly, white blouse with slicked-back hair and dark trousers – until you saw his bright red contacts and the dribble of blood at his mouth.

“A vampire,” you said, finally recovering your voice. Scanning his body, you frowned. “Where are the teeth, though?”

Jimin blinked, his gaze jerking up from your waist.

“Huh?” he said, sounding a bit strangled.

Cheeks heating a little – your dress was pretty short – you repeated yourself. “The teeth,” you said, pointing at your own lips. “Don’t vampires have fangs?”

“Oh, right.” Jimin dug around in his pocket – fuck, were his trousers tight – to produce twin fangs. “I took them off when I got here. They’re really hard to talk in.”

“Go on then, Park,” you said with a grin. “Put them in.”

“One second.” Twisting to face the wall, Jimin popped them in his mouth. Turning around, he bared his teeth. “Sexy?”

With the teeth in though, the word came out more like shex-shie and you burst into laughter. “So sexy,” you agreed, reaching past him for a cup.

Jimin stiffened when your arm brushed his front. Unbidden, you thought about what Noelle had said – Jimin had been flirting with you. Pulling away, you resumed making your drinks and tried not to look in his direction.

Even so, you remained aware of his presence. Jimin inched his way behind you, reaching for the whiskey on the other side. His arm brushed your elbow as he went, right knee nudging yours in an intimate gesture.

Glancing up from the counter, you accidentally caught his gaze. Despite your earlier joking, he did look sexy. Devastatingly so. Even the blood-red contacts weren’t enough to deter the shiver which ran down your spine.

Shaking yourself free from your trance, you grabbed both cups and pulled back.

“So, what’re you drinking?” you asked.

You decided it was best to steer the conversation away from how sexy Park Jimin was or was not.

Seemingly oblivious to your inner turmoil, Jimin poured whiskey into his cup. “Whiskey and coke. Can you pass me that bottle?”

“Sure,” you said, leaping at the chance to prevent him from walking past you again. “Here you go.”

Pushing this forward, you watched Jimin pour both drinks all the way to the brim. He paused near the end, staring into the depths before he looked up. He seemed to be warring with something, debating whether or not to speak whatever was on his mind.

“So…” He paused. “Do you know Jungkook, or something?”

You blinked. “Jungkook…?”

“You know, Miss Luna’s assistant. Jeon Jungkook.”

“Oh! Jungkook. No, I don’t really know him.”

“You were talking to him at the end of class, though?”

Hearing the curiosity in his voice, both your brows raised. “And?”

“And nothing,” Jimin said, sounding uncomfortable. “I just… I didn’t know you knew him, that’s all.”

“I mean, I don’t.” You paused. “But even if I did, what does it matter?”

“It doesn’t.” His cheeks began to redden. “It’s just – ah, never mind. We don’t have that great a history, that’s all. He’s kind of the reason I’m at Russet this year.”

You stared at Jimin a moment. “Wow, what a tragedy,” you said, stifling a laugh. “To have been forced to attend one of the most prestigious dance institutions in the world.”

His upper lip twitched. “It’s not that. I was deciding between attending Russet and accepting a job offer out west. I was asked to join this pop star on tour… anyways, Jungkook’s never liked me much. It’s a long story.” Jimin’s brow furrowed. “My offer was rescinded at the last minute. The artist never said why, but I always got the feeling he had something to do with it.”

You stared at Jimin a moment, unsure how to respond. Jungkook hadn’t seemed like that kind of person, but you supposed you’d only talked to him for a few minutes. If that was true, what happened to Jimin sucked and yet, the next words from your mouth nearly had you face-palming.

“And here I thought I was your biggest rival, Park,” you said.

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Are you… jealous, Y/N?”

He sounded almost pleased by the notion, which sent a different kind of shiver down your spine.

“Not at all,” you said quickly, turning back to your drinks.

Jimin made a soft tsk-ing sound, as though he didn’t believe you.

“That sucks,” you continued, determined to change the subject. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Yeah. Maybe it was all for the best, though. Things happen for a reason, right?”

Looking up, you caught Jimin’s stare. He didn’t look immediately away and you got the oddest sensation he meant more than what he said. Hastily, you pushed this feeling aside, clutching your drinks as you entered the main room. Jimin followed close behind, two cups in his hands.

“When did you get here?” you asked. “Been here long?”

Jimin shook his head. “Nah. Hoseok and I got here like, ten minutes ago. He should be around here somewhere, he –”

“Y/N!”

You looked up just in time to see Hoseok, Jimin’s roommate, barreling towards you.

“It’s been so long!” Crushing you to his chest, Hoseok wrapped you in a hug. “Hope Jimin isn’t boring you to death,” he stage-whispered before he pulled away.

“Just for that.” Jimin arched a brow. “Both these drinks are for me.”

“No – wait, wait. I’m sorry!” Hoseok pouted. “Hand over the drink, Park. It’s been the longest fucking week.”

Jimin grinned and relented, handing Hoseok his cup as you laughed. Hoseok was a newer friend, but he was close to Jimin, so he’d gradually bled into your latest gatherings. Despite not being on the ballet track, most of the dancers at Russet knew of him. Hoseok had that way about him.

Glancing down at your outfit, Hoseok held up a finger. “Let me guess – Blossom,” he said, turning to scan the room. “Which means… aha! Irene is Bubbles and Noelle is Buttercup. Makes sense.”

“And you are…” Pausing, you squinted at his outfit. “Someone at the spa?”

“Sure.” Hoseok shrugged. “Honestly, I just wanted to wear a bathrobe.”

Said bathrobe was paired with only boxers, the front of the robe open to display his toned abs. The costume didn’t surprise you, based on past interactions with Hoseok.

Casually, he twirled the robe tie in a circle. “Impressive, no?” Hoseok glanced away. “Whoa, wait – they have beer pong? See you all later!”

Hurrying off, he left you alone with Jimin. Shaking your head, you glanced in his direction and saw Jimin down his whole drink. Arching a brow, you were about to ask why when Irene called your names from across the room.

“Y/N!” She waved her hands. “Jimin! Get over here, you two – we need more for flip cup!”

You found yourself pulled in this direction despite your insistence you didn’t do well under pressure. Jimin ended up at the other end of the table and you lost sight of him when you started to play, paired with Jasmine for a partner.

By the end of the first round, you discovered you weren’t as horrible a player as you’d imagined. Then someone suggested mixed drinks for the second round, and things became fuzzier. There were more people present than just current students of Russet. One of Paulo’s roommates knew Seokjin, so you saw him in the room, along with Sana.

You chatted with both over the course of the evening, in addition to a guy who’d recently debuted on Broadway, Kim Taehyung. Apparently, there was already buzz around him for a Tony. Taehyung was nice, but it was sometime during this conversation you realized how tipsy you were. Apparently, not drinking for several months and then going ham made for very low tolerance.

Collapsing onto the couch, you joined Irene and Brian’s conversation. In the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Noelle – a terrible flip cup player, she’d roped Hoseok into giving her private lessons, but these seemed to be going terribly. Or perhaps very well, given how much the two of them were laughing.

You completely forgot about Jimin until you spotted him across the room talking to Sabrina. Seeing them together, you straightened. Both seemed fairly comfortable, which struck you as odd. Since that morning in Jimin’s dorm, you hadn’t really seen them hang out together.

Despite this, Jimin was laughing at something Sabrina had said. Tearing your gaze away, you forced yourself to focus on the conversation at hand. It didn’t matter who Jimin spoke to, or even who he decided to go home with tonight. He was your dance partner and friend, nothing more and besides – you had a boyfriend.

Blinking, you reached into your clutch and pulled out your phone. To your disappointment, you’d gotten no texts from Finn since this morning. You assumed he was still at his party but didn’t know for sure. Shooting him a text, hey, you waited for a response and when you got none, returned your phone to your purse.

Across the room, you heard Noelle yell your name. “Y/N!” She cupped her mouth with both hands. “We need another person for flip cup!”

Laughing, you pushed yourself from the couch and were immediately roped into your fourth game of the night. The night blurred again after that, turning into a pleasant hum of conversation and booze. At some point, Ubers were called to bring you to the club. As you rushed downstairs, you realized you forgot your coat as soon as you stepped outside.

Shivering violently, you rubbed your arms and cursed yourself for poor foresight.

“Y/N?” Jimin came to a stop alongside you. “Hey, where’s your coat?”

“Inside,” you said through chattering teeth. “I-it’s fine, though. I’m fine!”

Jimin gave you a look. “Where’s Paulo?” he said, glancing around. “I’ll grab him, we can get your coat before we go –”

“The Uber’s already here, though,” you argued, grabbing his sleeve to drag him towards the curb. “I’ll be fine from here to the club!”

Jimin sighed but gave in, following when you rushed to the grey SUV. Irene had claimed the front seat, so you and Jimin pulled open the middle door – Noelle and Hoseok were crowding behind you, so you and Jimin ended up together in the backseat.

Collapsed in a heap, you giggled as Jimin tried to squish himself in a corner. “Sorry,” he said, trying – and failing – to keep his knees separate.

“Jimin.” You snorted. “Are we going to go through this again? Your hands have been in way more inappropriate places than that this semester.”

Jimin’s lips parted, shocked, but you were already hoisting yourself over the middle seat. Draping your arms next to Noelle, you begged her to play your favorite song on the radio. Had you been more sober, you might’ve recognized your position to be precarious – perched on the edge of your seat, your ass hovered inches away from Jimin’s face.

Plopping back down, you glanced sideways at Jimin and found him frozen. Suddenly, you realized the visual he’d had.

“Um, so what happened to the teeth?” you blurted, determined to change the subject.

Jimin blinked and managed to meet your gaze. “Casualty of flip cup,” he said. “One of them fell out during the game and I couldn’t find where it rolled.”

“Well, that’s okay. You can just be one of those vampires who blend in with normal humans. You know, the kind whose fangs only come out when they want to bite someone.”

“That’s true.” Jimin arched a brow. “Lucky for you, I’m not hungry.”

“Lucky for me? Lucky for you,” you retorted. “My blood is about half alcohol right now. If you drank my blood, you’d be a very silly vampire.”

The idea of a silly vampire made you laugh – even more so when you pictured said vampire as Jimin. He seemed much too coherent for your liking right now.

“A silly vampire, huh?” Jimin looked on, amused. “Damn, Y/N – when was the last time you went out? Your tolerance is shit.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I haven’t drunk much this semester. Too much dance, too little time. I think the last time I went out was –”

“We’re here!” squealed Noelle, throwing open the door.

A blast of cold air hit you and you shivered, wishing you’d worn your coat. Jimin’s gaze remained steady on yours.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he said lowly. “I can give you, uh…”

“Your shirt?” you said dryly, lifting a brow as you brushed past. “Then you’d be shirtless, Park. Let’s think this through.”

Jimin chuckled before he followed suit, although you cursed as soon as you left the car. He was correct. It was freezing, even with your alcohol-induced blanket.

“Come on!” you yelped, following Noelle towards the entrance.

Bypassing the line, Noelle walked straight towards the bouncer and showed him her phone. He nodded and waved her past, counting your friend group who followed. Not everyone from Paulo’s place had gone to the club, but enough for you to make quite the entrance.

“Y/N!” Noelle doubled back to link arms with you. “Come on – this way! That guy’s going to show us to our table.”

“Table?” you asked her, wide-eyed.

Tables in a club on Halloween night were ridiculously expensive, but it seemed Noelle had downplayed her brother’s connections. Your group was led right to the front of the upper balcony, getting a coveted spot overlooking the dance floor below.

This was undeniably the coolest club you’d been in. Not that you’d been in many, mind you, but this one had to take the cake. A half-circle of tables took up the top floor, with twin staircases descending to the main room below. Most of the lower floor was for dancing, although you saw additional tables pushed to the sides. Fluorescent bars and dance platforms were dotted throughout and above all was the DJ booth, blasting the latest songs.

“Whoa,” you breathed.

Noelle grinned, squeezing your arm to pull you into the booth. As soon as you settled in, Jasmine leapt up and clapped her hands.

“I want to be in one of those!” she said, pointing to a glowing cage at the center of the dance floor.

“Oo, me too!” Irene leapt up to join her.

“Me, three!” said Paulo, clambering out of the booth.

“Awesome.” Irene beamed and glanced your way. “What about you, Y/N? You in?”

The idea was tempting for a moment, but then Finn flashed through your mind. You highly doubted he’d be on board with you gyrating for a room full of strangers without him. Somewhat dejectedly, you plopped back on the bench.

“That’s okay,” you sighed. “I think I’m going to stay here for a while. I’ll join you later!”

Irene frowned but nodded, following the rest when they left for the stairs. About half the group went, clearing out the table while you stared at the dance floor.

Jimin slid into the bench alongside you. “You don’t want to dance?”

Startled, you glanced in his direction. While you watched, Jimin began to undo his cuffs, casually rolling the sleeves of his shirt. His hair, which had been slicked back at the start of the night, was starting to fall. Several dark strands hung over his forehead, although this only seemed to make the look more appealing.

“No,” you said, crossing your legs. “I just… don’t really feel like it.”

“Is this the whole hating clubs thing again?”

“Kind of.” You laughed. “I don’t know. Club dancing isn’t like normal dancing, you know?”

“It is when you’re at the club with all dancers,” Jimin pointed out, nodding towards the floor.

Following his gaze, you saw Jasmine dancing full-out in a lit-up cage. She wasn’t so much gyrating as she was creating choreography on the fly. The mere mortals around her looked on in awe. Fighting a smile, you returned to Jimin.

“Okay, that does look like fun,” you admitted. “The last time I was at a club was with Finn.”

Jimin blinked. “Sorry – what?”

“In the cab,” you said, leaning closer in order to be heard. “You asked me when I last went out. It was that night… um, the night you came and picked me up.”

Jimin stared at you a moment, as though contemplating something important. Abruptly, he stood and held out a hand. You blinked at this like he’d offered a football.

“What are you doing?” you said, glancing up.

“Taking you down to the dance floor.” Jimin retracted said hand. “Come on, Y/N! You don’t have to give out dry lap dances, or whatever.”

“Hey!” In disbelief, your mouth fell open. “You said you’d forget all about that!”

His smile turned impish. “Seriously, we can just do the sprinkler, or something. It’ll be fun!”

“The sprinkler?” Starting to laugh, you stood. “Was that really the first move you thought of?”

“Nah. My go-to move is the criss-cross, but I figured this was more your speed.”

Snorting, you shoved him in the arm before following Jimin to the dance floor. It didn’t take you long to spot your other friends, clustered near the front and around the DJ booth.

“Y/N!” Noelle cheered, breaking off from the pack. “You made it!”

She nearly spilled her drink while she danced, catching herself just in time as she spun around. You grinned, entering the circle with Jimin by your side. He did, in fact, pull out the criss-cross – Hoseok joined in and soon, there was a Fortnite dance battle between them. You truly haven’t lived until you’ve seen a TikTok dance-off between two semi-professional dancers.

This ended with both declaring mutual defeat, and Hoseok disappearing to buy the next round. Noelle shimmied her way over to Jasmine, accepting the hand given to stand on the platform.

You laughed at their ridiculous dance moves, choosing instead to stay on the ground. The crowd around you had thinned since you’d joined. Eamon disappeared a few minutes later, saying something about needing a drink upstairs. Before long, Irene had joined Jasmine and Noelle on the platform, leaving you alone with Jimin on the floor.

Under other circumstances, you might have felt uncomfortable, but Jimin was so good at putting you at ease. Determined to keep you in the present, he came up with more and more complicated dance moves which had you snorting with laughter.

On a particularly flamboyant spin, Jimin accidentally smacked the drink from someone’s grasp. Blue vodka splattered everywhere, drenching its owner – a burly man in leather who snarled in frustration.

Looking up, he met your gaze and his eyes narrowed.

“Shit. Run!” you blurted out.

Grabbing Jimin by the arm, you dragged him into the crowd.

“No, wait – let me apologize!” Jimin tried to twist around. “I can pay for his drink! I can –”

Once there was suitable distance between you and the guy, you came to a stop. Laughing so hard you nearly fell over, you turned sideways to face him.

Bodies pressed against you from every side but rather than feel claustrophobic, all you could think about was Jimin before you. His hair had become thoroughly mussed during the night and you fought the sudden desire to smooth it down.

Although your breath came hard, the club around you seemed to slow. The music somehow had narrowed to pinpricks, a heady thump of bass while everything dulled.

What you should’ve done was taken a step back – but you didn’t.

Instead, your gaze drifted across his face. Jimin stared back, something intense to his gaze you couldn’t quite name. Breath caught in your throat, his eyes dropped to your lips.

Before you could react, someone bumped into you from behind, sending you careening forward. Jimin caught you easily, one arm around your waist and your chest pressed to his. You could feel every hard line of his body, his thigh wedged between your legs while you grasped at his arms. Heart thudding traitorously against your ribcage, you tried to ignore the emotions which followed.

It was impossible.

The song playing was slower, sexier than the one which had inspired the dance-off. Without meaning to, your weight subtly shifted. This caused your hips to move against his as Jimin quietly sucked in a breath. The effect this had on him was instantaneous. His grip on you tightened, gaze heady with desire and something more. Before you could second-guess what you were doing, you moved your hips again – this time, on purpose.

Jimin’s eyes darkened. Without looking away, his grip on you tightened as he slowly dragged you up his thigh. Suddenly breathless, your hands gripped him tighter while your eyes fluttered shut. The heat of his body on yours, the faint smell of cologne and sweat, the tension in his limbs and the knowledge of what he could do to you – it all left your head spinning.

“Y/N,” Jimin murmured, low in your ear.

You weren’t used to him saying your name like that.

You were used to him saying your name in every other way, but not that. Sharp with dancer’s critique, brusque with instruction, light with teasing – but not like something heavy was lodged in his throat. Maybe his heart.

Panicked, your eyes flew open.

What were you doing? This wasn’t some random stranger and this sure as hell wasn’t your boyfriend. This was Jimin. Stumbling backwards, you broke from his hold. Jimin seemed equally stunned, staring at you on the dance floor.

“I have to go,” you blurted and whirled around.

Shoving into the crowd, you heard Jimin emit a soft groan. Despite this, he didn’t immediately pursue, for which you were grateful. Stumbling through strangers, strobe lights flashed brightly overhead. You squeezed between someone dressed as a go-go and another person dressed as a werewolf. Skidding to a stop on the edge of the floor, you scanned the room and saw no one from Russet.

When you glanced over your shoulder, you saw Jimin now followed. Panicking again, you began to move. Beside one of the bars, you spotted a hallway labeled restrooms. Heading in this direction, you quickly disappeared inside the door marked women.

Once inside, you locked yourself in a stall, lowered the lid and sat down. Head in hands, you slowly exhaled. You were a coward; that much was clear. Jimin was probably out there looking for you right now, but you’d rather hide in a bathroom than face him.

The fluorescent lighting overhead was too bright – it made you feel overexposed. After a long moment, you fished around in your purse and pulled out your phone. Flipping to your thread with Finn, you saw he’d sent no response since your text. Complete and utter silence.

Heart cracking a little, you slid this in your bag and stared at the door. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. When you imagined you and Finn at college, you’d always pictured you together, attending the same parties and sharing the same adventures. Tonight though, had proven to be anything but that. Finn hadn’t once glanced at his phone judging by the unread mark next to your text.

Dimly, you wondered why you weren’t more upset about this. It should bother you that Finn hadn’t called or even texted throughout the day. Sure, he was out with friends, but so were you and you’d reached out – as soon as you thought this, your heart sank.

You weren’t sure you could call Jimin a friend after what had just happened.

Sure, you’d only danced, and it had only been for a second but still, guilt bloomed behind your ribcage. The idea of Finn doing the same thing with anyone else made your heart twist. You wouldn’t feel that way if what you’d done wasn’t wrong.

Groaning out loud, you lowered your head to your hands. After several minutes, you felt calm enough to stand and pretend-flush the toilet. As you exited the stall, you walked to the sink and began washing your hands. Staring at yourself in the mirror, a million things ran through your mind.

Clearly, the situation with Jimin was worse than you’d thought. The spark you’d felt kept returning, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. Maybe the only solution was to find a new partner. The very idea made your heart sink, but you couldn’t deny things had gotten out of hand.

Before you could seriously consider the option, the door to the bathroom flung open and banged against the wall. Sabrina stormed in, wiping both eyes with the heel of her hand. You froze, staring at her in the mirror but she didn’t seem to notice your presence.

When she finally lowered her hands and took a deep breath, she saw you and froze.

For a moment, you both only stared at each other and then – you coughed. Awkwardly, you began to dry your hands.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tentative.

Sabrina stiffened. “I’m fine,” she muttered, walking to the sink.

You watched her wash her hands, struggling and failing to control her expression. Sabrina’s hair was a mess and you stared, wondering where she’d been. You hadn’t seen her since you’d entered the club, but had assumed she’d stayed on the second floor.

“Are you sure?” you pressed, remembering your night at the other club. “You know, you can –”

“Will you… just stop.” Sabrina closed her eyes. “Will you … stop pretending like we’re friends, or something?”

Struck with disbelief, you could only stare. “I… are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.” You shook your head. “Just wow.”

Her lips tightened and finally, she whirled around. “What?” Sabrina demanded. “What is it?”

The look in her eyes was familiar. Her frustrated, angry look was mirrored in your expression, but you found you didn’t care. Sabrina was clearly going through something, but her rudeness to you was the final straw. Tired from Finn, Jimin and the constant pressure you were both under, something about Sabrina’s words made you break.

“Why are you always such a… such a bitch,” you blurted, hurling the word like a knife. “What did I ever do to you? Why do you always act like you hate me so much?”

Sabrina’s upper lip curled. “Why do you always think this is about you, Y/N? Maybe I just wanted one second of peace and instead, here you are. Like always.”

“Here I am, in the public restroom of a club we’re all at?”

“No. Here you are in my life,” she snapped, pushing herself from the sink. “People won’t talk to me? It’s because you’ve run your mouth about things you think I’ve done. I’m falling in the class ranks? It’s because you’re after my spot. Jimin doesn’t want to be my partner? It’s because of his feelings for you. I’m sick of turning around and always seeing you there!”

“Okay, but none of those things – I, Jimin doesn’t have feelings for me,” you sputtered.

Sabrina gave you a look. “Oh, please, Y/N.” Her laughter was harsh. “Why else would he turn me down?”

“Um, maybe because he’s a decent human being? Unlike yourself.”

“Great, yeah.” Sabrina glared. “Make me the bad guy again.”

“I’m not the one doing that,” you huffed. “You are. You want to blame me because no one wants to be your friend? Maybe try reaching out first. Maybe don’t talk shit about people behind their backs. And I’m improving because I’m taking extra lessons. No thanks to you, of course.”

“Don’t try and make me feel bad because I didn’t have time to give you lessons.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m trying to explain why I’m improving and you’re not.”

Sabrina bristled. “Are you saying I don’t work hard, too?”

“No.” Mirthless, you laughed. “I know you work hard – maybe even as hard as I do. But you know what the big difference is between you and me?” you said, drawing yourself to your full height.

Sabrina’s eyes glimmered while she stared you down. Still, she retained her aloofness when she said, “What? What’s the big secret?”

“You think everyone’s out to get you,” you said, stepping closer. “You think not asking for help makes you stronger, but it’s the exact opposite. At least I’ve improved since the start of the year. What have you done?”

Not waiting for an answer, you pushed past Sabrina and walked out the door.

Shoving it wide, you entered the hallway. Dance music flooded your senses and you winced, remembering where you were and what you’d been doing. Luckily, Jimin was nowhere in sight. He must not have seen where you’d disappeared to.

Shoulders slumping, you pulled out your phone and dialed a number. Walking to the front, you concentrated on breathing while you waited for them to pick up. Coming to a stop beside coat check, you didn’t leave the club – a lesson you’d learned the hard way.

Noelle answered on the third ring. “Babe?” she yelled, barely audible over the din. “What’s going on? Where are you?”

“Are you…” Closing your eyes, you paused. “Can we leave?”

Noelle paused, then muffled her phone with one hand. “Irene!” you heard her yell. “You good to get a ride home for these people? Okay, cool. Bye!” Her phone became un-muffled. “Where are you, babe?”

After explaining your location, you hung up and hugged yourself with both arms. Noelle burst into view a few moments later, scanning the crowd like a mom on a mission. When she saw you, she rushed over – and you promptly burst into tears.

“Oh, no!” Pulling you into a hug, Noelle began to rub your back. “No, no, babe! Don’t cry! What’s going on? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”

Hearing Jimin’s words said by Noelle only made you cry harder. Wisely sensing this to be a problem not easily solved, Noelle continued rubbing your back while walking towards the exit.

The two of you went outside and, as luck would have it, saw a group of people arriving at the club. Noelle snagged their taxi, helping you in the backseat and giving the driver your address. As you settled against her, your head on her shoulder, Noelle kept rubbing your arm and waited for the tears to stop.

You weren’t really sure why you were crying.

Of course, Sabrina was terrible, as was the situation with Jimin, but it was more than that. Dancing with Jimin hadn’t caused problems in your relationship with Finn. There had been problems in your relationship Finn and so, feelings had crept in which led you to dance with Jimin.

More than that though, you couldn’t help but notice Noelle had come to your aid much faster than Finn ever had. Even Jimin had dropped everything when you asked, and he was someone you’d once called your enemy. Noelle had been having fun, but she’d cut her night short because you were upset. This knowledge crushed you and for the very first time, you realized your relationship with Finn might be unfixable.

Curled up on the backseat, you let yourself cry a bit more. You could be calm and rational in the morning, you decided but for now, you just felt defeated.

When you finally climbed into bed at your dorm at night, you looked at your phone and saw Finn still hadn’t texted.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre are posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST

#bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin au #bts au #jimin writing #bts writing #jimin series #jimin e2l #bts series #bts e2l #jimin dance au #bts dance au

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y0itsbri · 3 years ago

Text

Falling for You

ballet au one-shot for @gallavichthings 's a.u.gust

summary: dance instructor mickey! ian keeps messing up the lifts with the dancers, and mickey cannot have his girls injured because of this himbo, even if he is hot. he makes ian stay after class to practice on him -- and he swears there's no ulterior motives. but they're so close and his hands are all over him and he can feel his breath and it is so unprofessional but fuck it.

words: 2k

Mickey had a new guy in his class that wasn't doing... well... by any standards. Alright, the dude sucked. Mickey had been a ballet instructor for several years and not once has he met a dancer as uncoordinated and unbalanced as Ian fucking Gallagher.

Somehow, Ian had managed to not only rip the ballet barre off of the goddamn wall in his attempt at a grand plie, fallen flat on his face after pas de chat gone wrong, but he also managed to launch his fellow ballerinas onto the floor instead of the air.

He was a disaster.

Mickey had better shit to do with his time at the studio than patch up his dancers, and studio, after Gallagher's classes. Svetlana's father would have his ass if she got injured on his watch. And Ian being the only guy in their class, there was no way for him not to share the front-and-center spotlight with Svetlana.

Yeah, Mickey wasn't letting Ian any-fucking-where near Svet if he could help it. At least in his current state. Dude was a piece of work.

Mickey figured he would be a lot more upset about all this if Ian's apologetic puppy dog eyes weren't so goddamn convincing.

Fucking Gallagher.

"Ayo, Mands! Come help me with this!" Mickey called, echoing in the studio, now nearly empty besides the Milkovich siblings and a six-foot-tall ginger man looking both utterly clueless and utterly terrified. Mickey was utterly hopeless.

Mandy popped in the doorframe, sliding her shoes on but leaving them untied.

"Can't! I got actual shit to do! I don't live and breathe the studio like your sorry ass. No offense, Ian, my brother is great, please stay. Full offense, Mickey, get a fucking life!"

Mickey was left speechless and slightly embarrassed by Mandy's outburst and only managed to flip her off before she was out the door.

"Charming sister you got there," Ian let a quiet laugh slip before schooling his expression at Mickey's lack of amusement.

Mickey sighed and rubbed his hands down the length of his face for a moment. Ian and Mickey held eye contact a bit longer before Mickey abruptly straightened up and clapped his hands together. The noise startled Ian from his own amused trance.

"Alright, Clifford, how do you feel about private lessons for a little bit until you're not tripping over your own feet?"

Ian stepped forward to argue, but, proving Mickey's point, stumbled over the shoes on the floor in front of him. He didn't miss the way that Mickey's mouth quirked up on the side.

"Can't afford extra classes," Ian shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

"It's on me," Mickey swiped his top lip. He didn't miss the way that Ian's gaze lingered on his mouth,"Kinda need you..." really want you, "to, uh, look good..." as if he doesn't already, fucking red-headed alien-looking motherfucker, "on the floor..." of my bedroom, goddamn it, Mick, get it together! "the, uh, dance floor."

Ian paused, considering the way that Mickey was stumbling over his words in a way that one might call endearing, another might call the-worst-fucking-experience-of-his-life.

"I'll do it."

Do me. Seriously, go drink some water, oh my god.

Mickey literally took a sip from his water bottle, hoping that it would at least calm his nerves. He was a professional!

He crossed his arms over his chest. "You free after class?" A pause, "To work on some skills, I mean."

"It's a date," Ian smirked, leaning down to pick up his shoes from the ground in front of him. By the time he was upright again, Mickey had already started walking away, but the blush on his cheeks and the back of his neck could be spotted from a mile away. He was utterly fucked.

Mickey yawned and got up from his stretching position on the floor. He walked over to the stereo, systematically knocking his dancer's feet on his way over until they were all turned out and pointed.

"No Orange Boy today?" Svetlana asked, meeting Mickey's eyes with a challenging stare.

Mickey ignored the chorus of "He's so hot!" "Have you seen his arms?" and "Ian's the nicest!" from the rest of the girls.

Svetlana raised her eyebrow in question and Mickey's defenses flew out the window. This goddamn power dynamic was going to be the death of him.

"I put him on private lessons until he's no longer a disruption to the class," he shrugged.

"Aww," one brunette pouted.

"Disruption to class or disruption to tiny bulge in your pants?" Svetlana smirked, earning some scandalized gasps from the other dancers.

Mickey flipped her off, "The fucker made me take out a greater insurance policy with all his accidents, don't be fucking absurd."

A blonde nodded understandingly from the back of the class, "My ankle is still a little funky from the last lift we tried."

Mickey held his arms out in a display of I-told-you-so and Svetlana rolled her eyes.

"Great!" Mickey clapped his hands together, earning the full attention of his class as they hurried to their feet, "Now that all the hot drama is outta the air, let's do a quick warm up combo across the floor. Chasse step pas de bourree double pirouette step arabesque, in 5, 6, 7, 8..."

Ian had been waiting outside the studio for the last ten minutes of class, more-so watching his instructor shift around than paying attention to what the dancers were actually doing. That's probably what got him into his current predicament, and he couldn't decide whether that was a curse or a blessing. Mickey's arms flexed as he pointed across the room to call out someone's weak spot.

Yup, it was a blessing.

Oh shit, Mickey was looking his way. Was this a double sided mirror? No, of course not. Why would there be a double sided mirror? Oh, Mickey was definitely staring at him. Fuck. Wait, did he just wink? No way, he must've just blinked. With one eye. Yeah, totally normal. Nothing to overthink, Ian.

Get it together!

Mickey dismissed his class five minutes early and it had nothing to do with the Jolly Ginger Giant standing outside his studio.

While most of his dancers wordlessly accepted the easy out, Svetlana stayed back to taunt. "Have fun with private lessons," she sneered, jerking off an invisible cock.

"Choke on it," Mickey retorted tossing her warm-up jacket at her face, which she swiftly caught.

Svetlana turned and made a show of looking Ian up and down, his cheeks turning pink under her intense gaze. She faced Mickey head on, "You will be vegetable stew by the time this man is done with you."

The fuck does that mean?

Sometimes Mickey thought that Svetlana spoke in riddles just to mess with him. He blamed it on the Russian accent, never mind he was part Ukrainian himself. The languages were similar, but not identical, fuck you very much.

But, damn, forget that, Gallagher looked good. He was wearing his usual white tank top and grey sweatpants, but Mickey never got the opportunity to openly ogle in class. Not that that was what he was doing now.

Ian returned the long look appreciatively before stepping closer and Mickey snapped back into professionalism, well as far as professionalism goes, Milkovich-style.

He turned his back on the bane of his pathetic existence and snapped a quick but polite, "Get your shoes on and we can get started."

"Oh, right."

That seemed to be enough to get the gears in Ian's head going again as he dropped his bag to the floor, echoing in the truly empty studio, and dropping down onto the floor himself to secure his ballet shoes, which may as well be clown shoes for as big as his feet were. Mickey fit into the same brand as the girls, but he had to order special for Gallagher.

"Thanks for doing this, Mickey."

Mickey. The way that this man said his name was making him feel all sorts of flustered that he would most definitely deny.

"Mandy said you don't usually make exceptions."

"Gotta catch you up to speed or you're gonna be dancing with the 5 year-olds, man."

Ian tilted his head considering.

Mickey frowned, "Don't do it."

Ian smirked and Mickey had to look away as a grin and blush creeped up on his own face.

"Alright, so we'll start you off with the basics."

Mickey went through their normal class routine, but broke it down slowly, pausing to explain certain positions in details he couldn't afford to spend time with in class, specifically how not to fall. It should have been fairly obvious in his opinion, but Ian still managed somehow. The first few times, he was on the floor before Mickey even knew he was going down.

But the third, Mickey made a mistake. Mickey instinctively reached out to catch him.

As soon as he realized where his hands were, he pulled them off like he'd been burned, which he may have well been. He pulled his gaze to his feet, studying the floor while he composed himself.

"Mickey," Ian waited until he looked up, and then he spoke so quietly, "You can touch me."

And what made things worse was that Ian's dazzling eyes left little to the imagination. They both knew where this was going, and the moment was too intense too quick. The longer their eyes held, the hotter Mickey felt his neck grow.

"Ya know," Ian stepped closer. "To fix my positions..."

Mickey swallowed, "Uh, I think we're done for today."

He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. He never meant them to begin with. But if Ian stayed any longer, Mickey was going to climb him like a tree and that really wasn't under his personal code of professionalism, no matter how loose those terms may be to begin with. It was getting late anyways, he reasoned with himself.

"What about the lifts? That's the important part, right?" Ian questioned, eyes pleading like he would die without this one skill being taught to him by his oh-so-unprofessional instructor.

Mickey sighed. Ya know what? Fuck it.

Mickey sauntered over to Ian, pressed his back to Ian's front, and grabbed one of Ian's massive hands and placed it on his own waist.

Ian gave an experimental squeeze and Mickey softened in his grip.

Ridiculous.

"We're not doing the lift are we?" Ian murmured breathily, hot air making the hairs on the back of Mickey's neck tingle.

"What do you think, Firecrotch?" Mickey pushed his weight back into Ian's chest, which would be the second mistake of the day.

Ian toppled over backwards, landing with a painful sounding thud and sending Mickey down on top of him before he rolled off the the side with a groan.

Ian started laughing and Mickey was concerned. Was this idiot actually fucking concussed this time? He wasn't sure how he would explain this to his insurance company.

Mickey straddled Ian's lap, gently slapping his face, "Are you good, man? Alive?"

"Never better." Ian was still smiling like an absolute goof.

Mickey raised an eyebrow in concern.

"Seriously, I just can't play things cool," Ian raised his hips to grind against Mickey's ass, "Obviously."

"You're an idiot," Mickey rolled his eyes, and all Ian could do was grin and reach up towards Mickey's neck, pulling his down until their lips almost touched, sharing breaths and excitement.

"Maybe," another breath, "But I still got you to fall for me."

It was Mickey's turn to laugh, more of a raspy exhale than anything. His "fuck you" was almost lost between them as they fell together at last.

(side note: this was the lift that they were going to do, so i feel like the hand on the waist makes sense -- gotta have a visual lmao)

#i might have an idea for a sequel/series if anyone is interested: mandy pov of this and another one shot in their relationship era???#who knows #shameless #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #mandy milkovich #ian x mickey #shameless fanfic #shameless fanfiction #gallavich fanfiction #gallavich fanfic #svetlana yevgenivna #my posts

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years ago

Text

End Up Here | Owen Patrick Joyner

Requested: Yes/No

hi!! could you please write a fic where the reader is an actor on jatp and the cast have a sleepover and some of them decide to play seven minutes in heaven, and the reader ends up in the closet with owen who they have a massive crush on and they end up making out in the closet? love your writing!!

A/N: Special thanks to @calamitykaty and @vrthngiwnt for letting me bounce some ideas off them and giving me some of their creativity. Love you both!

Pairing: Owen Patrick Joyner x Reader

Song(s) used: Into The Unknown - Frozen II / Drag Me Down - One Direction

Warnings: It’s just light and fluffy.

Words: 6,411

How in the holy hell did she end up here? Here. In Savannah’s closet, kissing one of her best friends whom she’d had a crush on for weeks now. Kissing Owen Joyner. It was only this morning they were still bullying each other playfully during dance training. It was only a month ago the two had met.

A month ago she got the call from her agent that she got the gig. She was going to be in a Kenny Ortega production. A freaking Kenny Ortega production. After being a fan of his work since she was literally a child, she finally got the honor to work with him on a project. Albeit as more of an extra, but still.

A member of popular girl Carrie Wilson’s band. Dirty Candy singer #3. Member of Dirty Candy. No matter how she put it, it still all seemed so surreal.

The first day of bootcamp, y/n was extremely nervous. This was her first ever project and she wanted to do it right. This was something so close to her heart as she, herself, had lost her mom and lost the love to dance and sing for a while too until she found the strength again through friends and family.

Besides, getting to play a mean girl did seem a lot of fun.

“Oh, hey,” a girl greeted. She had long blonde hair that cascaded into curls down her neck and shoulders, and big brown bambi eyes twinkling at her. “I’m Savannah. You’re a Dirty Candy member?” she introduced herself and asked you, in one go.

“Uh, yeah! I’m member number three,” she chuckled awkwardly before reaching out her hand towards her. “I’m y/n,” she said with a smile that reached her ears. Savannah looked at her hand and then grabbed it, and pulled her in for a hug.

A surprised shriek arose from member number three before she wrapped her arms around the 5 foot something specimen that clung to her for a while.

“I can’t wait to get started!” Savannah clapped her hands excitedly when she had pulled away from the hug.

As time went by, a lot more people filed into the room. Some of them y/n recognized, like Jeremy Shada, but also some of the fellow dancers seemed very familiar. Probably from dance classes back in High School or College, she thought.

“Okay, let’s get this started!” A man of medium-build with a baseball cap on his head and a smile on his face clapped his hands, and rubbed them together as if planning some sort of scheme. “I’m Paul Becker, I’m the choreographer and along with Tori and Louise, my assistants, I’ll be getting you prepped for all dance rehearsals.” He pointed at the two girls on the first row. One of which y/n knew from college, Tori. A petite brown girl who was so sweet and kind, and a masterpiece of motion. Y/N remembered how she always outshone everyone in class.

Kenny Ortega stood next to Paul, smiling at the group of talent he’d accumulated, and said, “We’re just gonna start with some icebreaker games today to get to know each other better and then really get to work.” Y/N glanced around the room to check if she was the only one that seemed nervous. Halfway through the room, she made eye contact with a tall blonde boy with what she thought was the most adorable smile ever. She shot him a smile back before focusing on Kenny again. “I’m assuming not everyone knows each other’s names yet, so I suggest we start with the name game?” he looked at Paul, who gave a nod of assent.

“Let’s all sit down in a big circle,” Paul said, rotating his finger to indicate the circle. Savannah, standing closest to Y/N, grabbed the girl’s hand and brought her closer to the rest of the group before they both sat down, along with the others.

“The premise is to remember everyone else’s name,” Kenny began, “So, for example. I’ll start and say Kenny, then Paul, who’s sitting next to me goes ‘Kenny, Paul’, then Tori has to go ‘Kenny, Paul, Tori,’ and so on and so forth. Got it?” All participants nodded their heads.

A groan is heard from the other side of the circle, “I’m gonna have to remember so many names!” The blonde guy with the cute smile from earlier whined. The group burst out laughing at his annoyance.

“Well, let’s hope you remember the names better than the lyrics to your audition song, huh, Owen?” Kenny retorted teasingly, sending the rest of the group into another fit of laughter as the blonde boy glared at the director.

Y/N made a mental note to remember his name. Owen. When she looked at him at that moment, she recognized him from somewhere, but couldn’t put her finger on where or how.

“Okay, so, I’ll start,” Kenny said and repeated his name.

“Kenny, Paul,” Paul said, then looked at the girl next to him.

“Kenny, Paul, Tori.” Everyone then averted their eyes to the blonde girl sitting next to Tori.

“Kenny, Paul, Tori, Louise.” Everyone’s eyes then went to the girl sitting on y/n’s right, who she’d met before.

“Kenny, Paul, Tori, Louise, Savannah.”

Her heart beated faster as everyone’s eyes were focused on her as she repeated the names, “Kenny, Paul, Tori, Louise, Savannah, y/n.”

She looked around the circle with a smile as the girl next to her continued. Her eyes stopped at Owen, who was looking at her too with a tender smile on his face. Instead of simply shooting a smile back, she mimed “Pay attention”. His shoulders jolted from the soft chuckle that came through before he focused on the next person.

The game went on for a while until it reached Owen. Y/N could tell from the look in his eyes that he was struggling to remember them all. There were a lot of names to remember, that’s true, but y/n thought it was pretty simple to remember.

“Kenny, Paul, Tori, Louise, Savannah, y/n,” he halted his gaze on her for a split second before continuing, “Sacha, Jadah, uhm…” His eyes flicked back to y/n, begging for help. She started mouthing the names along, and even though he couldn’t really lipread, the help was welcome. “Kyra, Halle, Jeremy, Madison, Owen.”

Of course, he knew the last two people before him, but Kyra and Halle seemed difficult names for him to remember.

“That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?” the boy next to him slapped him on the shoulder as the group burst out into laughter. Owen, however, couldn’t help but smile as he looked at y/n.

“Yeah, it wasn’t that bad,” he mumbled and shot her a thankful wink.

Charlie then ended the circle, and though Kenny wanted to go around the circle once more, the contradictory moans and complaints made him finish the game and tell everyone to get up off the floor. Paul grabbed a rope from the ground near the wall-covering mirror and handed one end to Kenny. The latter looked around the room for a second before calling out y/n’s name, beckoning her to come over. Confused and a little embarrassed, she walked over to the director.

“You’re about the average height of everyone here, so we need your waist,” he told her, chuckling. The soft caress of his hand on her shoulder made her calm down a little as he guided her to the middle of the room. Paul and Kenny then secured the rope at the height of her waist. One side on the barre, the other on a hook in the wall. “I’m gonna split you into two groups and make it a competition,” he then said and looked around the room to see who could make a great team.

“Let’s do Dirty Candy against Julie and The Phantoms?” Paul suggested, “Jadah with the Phantoms team and Sacha with the Dirty Candy team? And Louise can join the Phantoms team too, to balance it out.” Kenny let his eyes wander over the two groups as they scattered towards each other.

“Yep, I like that,” he then said and clapped his hands. “Premise of this game is to get across the rope together. There’s no going under it, it’s not a game limbo dancing. Okay? You gotta brainstorm and get across using teamwork.”

“What does the winner get?” Owen asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he and his team huddled together on one side of the rope, closest to the mirror.

“If Team Dirty Candy wins, they get to see your audition tape,” Kenny promised, immediately wiping off the smirk on Owen’s face as everyone on team Dirty Candy cheered and giggled. “If Team Phantoms wins…”

A boost of confidence rushed through y/n as she exclaimed, “No need for that, Kenny. Team Dirty Candy is gonna win!” Sacha and Halle lifted their hands, so y/n hit hers against them in high fives.

The director laughed at that while Owen kissed his teeth, an amused smirk playing at his lips. “We’ll see about that,” he said. “Kenny, what’s in it for us?” The director’s eyes darted from y/n to Owen and back, picking up on the connection that had formed between them with just non-verbal communication.

“What would you say if I could get into possession of home videos from when y/n was younger.” Y/N’s eyes widened at this. She had almost forgotten her parents used to be buddies in college with Kenny, and he and her dad worked together on a couple of projects.

“Yep, okay, you’re going down, Dirty Candy!” said Owen threateningly. “How is that fair, Kenny?!” y/n exclaimed, glaring at Owen as he cackled.

“About as fair as you seeing my audition tape!” he yelled, but still had that amused smile on his face that told her he wasn’t actually mad at her.

She pressed her lips together into a tight line before turning to her team. “We have to win this thing, guys.” All four other Dirty Candy singers and Sacha nodded their heads determinedly, and threateningly turned back to their opposing team.

“You’ve got half an hour to get everyone across. Every time a person touches the rope, everyone who’s already crossed over has to go back,” Paul explained in a stern tone. “Teams ready?” Both teams huddled up into a group, ready to brainstorm quickly. Y/N looked up, locking eyes with Owen straight away. He glared at her as she pointed two fingers at her own eyes, then pointing them to him. “3-2-1… GO!” Paul pressed the timer on his phone as the two teams began frantically discussing.

“I used to be a gymnast,” Kyra started in a hushed tone. “If I can get onto someone’s shoulders, I can summersault my way off?”

“Don’t you need a mat for that on the other side so as to not break your ankles?” Halle asked, her eyebrows knit together in confusion. The gymnast of the group shook her head, and so the discussion continued.

On the other team, Owen was taking the lead in their discussion. He seemed to just have a game plan ready in his mind. There was no way the other team would ever be allowed to see his audition tape. It was way too embarrassing.

“We’re gonna start with Charlie and me on our knees in front of the rope. Louise or Jeremy, one of you is gonna stand on both our knees and hop over. Then, whoever went over is gonna mirror us on the other side, so the next person has to step onto your thigh as they step over. We’re just gonna continue like that until I’m the last one here. I’m able to just jump across.” His teammates looked at him as if he’d just spoken Chinese. Blinking eyes and mouths ajar.

They had five minutes left and on both teams, the second to last person had just gone over. Now, only Owen and Y/N were left standing on their side. Glaring at each other when they noticed this was match point, both of them stepped back for the run-up, and leapt over the rope at exactly the same time.

Their teammates cheered as both teams huddled into a group hug. Kenny and Paul stood on the sidelines, applauding both team’s efforts.

“I think we have a tie,” Kenny announced once the cheering had died down.

“So, what does that mean?” Owen asked, glancing over at y/n anxiously. It would be fairest to have both their prices or no prices at all.

“I think our two team captains can decide that,” Kenny said, pointing at both Owen and y/n, who had started this little war in the first place. “Do you wanna see each other’s videos, or is no one ever gonna see anything at all?”

Y/N and Owen glanced at each other, trying to communicate what each of them were feeling in that very moment. Owen’s eyes searched her face as she bit down on her lip. It wouldn’t be fair for me to see her old family videos. Those are kind of private, he thought.

“I think we’re good,” Owen replied and offered the girl a smile as she nodded her head agreeingly. “This was a fun game, I don’t think it needs a price.”

“Agreed.”

Kenny and Paul told them to take a break before they got to the real dance training. Before y/n could join Savannah to their bags, Owen stopped her with a wide smile plastered on his face.

“Nice job, y/n,” he said, opening his palms and holding them out to her. Y/N hit her hands on his in a double low five as a giggle escaped her lips.

“You too,” she said.

The rest of the day was spent dancing, or at least for Y/N. The first two hours, they had dance training together, but then they were split up into groups again. Y/N had more dance rehearsals with the girls from Dirty Candy while Madison and the boys went to try out some songs they were going to sing on the show.

From that first day on, y/n knew that this wasn’t just going to be a work relationship she was building up with these people. She felt in her stomach that these people were going to become her best friends, her family. And she wouldn’t want to change it for the world.

At the end of bootcamp, y/n was proven absolutely right. They had become the best of friends, and almost like a family. And they had yet to start filming. The next few months were going to be even more fun, especially that final night of bootcamp since Savannah had invited everyone to a sleepover at her place.

Though y/n was half certain Savannah only did it to get her and Owen together, she was still excited about it. The blondie knew y/n had a thing for the tall blonde man ever since the first day, but she hadn’t done anything about it as she wanted to keep it professional.

But of course Savannah didn’t quite agree to that.

The night of the sleepover, Savannah invited a few of the closest people over to her place. She literally went all out on this night. There were bowls of different varieties of chips scattered around tables, stacks of red cups on her kitchen counter, candles and fairy lights everywhere. Though, y/n was kind of apprehensive about the candles being a danger, she didn’t really say anything about it. It wasn’t going to be that kind of night, she thought.

She even got them matching PJ’s. On the backside of six of the white T-shirts was TEAM DIRTY CANDY printed in a bright pink while the other five -- since Louise couldn’t make it -- read TEAM PHANTOMS in purple. She bought pink shorts for the girls on her team, purple ones for the girls on the other. For the boys, she brought grey joggers.

Y/N appreciated the effort Savannah put into tonight. It was something she would do, too. She was a sucker for an over-the-top party and went all out herself on every occasion.

“I made a non-alcoholic Sangria punch for everyone,” she said as she pointed to the large glass bowl on the kitchen counter near the stack of cups. “Who would like some?”

Team Dirty Candy was complete while Team Phantoms missed two people. Two people who were often late for everything. Charlie and Owen. Of course they hadn’t arrived yet. It didn’t surprise y/n very much. Half an hour late. They were half an hour late.

“We’re so sorry,” Charlie apologized to Savannah, “But this one over here was taking so long to get ready.” The brunette boy rolled his eyes as he thought of the dallying of the blonde one next to him.

“You were barely ready when I was,” Owen countered and gladly took the punch-filled cup Savannah handed over before making a beeline towards the others who were gathered on the couches in the living room.

His eyes immediately landed on y/n and his smile grew wider. “Well, look who finally showed his face, Dorian Gray.” His eyebrows knitting together made y/n realize he hadn’t the slightest clue about English Literature. “The Picture of Dorian Gray? No? Never read it?” Owen slowly shook his head as he slid down on the couch next to her. “OK…”

Y/N turned to Jadah, who was sitting next to her, completely ignoring Owen’s confused eyes. “Who the fuck is Dorian Gray?!” he yelled at Charlie, his eyes wide as he grew more and more annoyed.

“Read a book!” Halle and y/n yelled in unison, and Halle even threw a pillow at him, reminiscent of that scene in The Heat where Melissa McCarthy threw a book at Michael McDonald’s face. The two girls fell into a fit of laughter, along with pretty much everyone else but Owen. He was too busy wiping the Sangria punch that had spilled with the impact of the pillow, off his jeans.

“How about we get into our PJ’s and get this party started!” Savannah suggested, followed by an excited whoop. The girls all got up quickly, following behind Savannah while the boys stuck around the living room. They decided they needed to give the girls some privacy and would change after.

“So…” Madison started when they were in Savannah’s bedroom, changing from their cute outfits into even cuter pj’s. “You’re gonna tell Owen how you feel tonight?” she asked y/n, her eyebrows wiggling suggestively up and down.

“Feel about what?” y/n asked as she tucked her Team Dirty Candy shirt into her pink shorts.

“About him!” Jadah exclaimed with wild eyes. “It’s clear you have a massive crush on him, girl!” Y/N looked around the room at the other girls, who were all just nodded their heads in accordance.

Y/N scoffed after a few seconds of silence. She was thinking about confiding in them and telling them the truth, but it was no use. There was no way she and Owen could ever become a thing. She was supposed to be strictly professional as it was her first job.

“I don’t have a crush on Owen,” she stated, grabbed her stuff and left the girls in the bedroom. After neatly folding her jeans and the top she had been wearing that day, and putting it into the backpack she’d taken with her, she made her way into the kitchen for some more punch. All while her mind went crazy.

Sure, she had a definite crush on the blonde actor, but there was no way she was ever going to act up on those feelings. Owen probably didn’t even feel the same way about her anyway. Besides, she promised herself she would focus on her career instead of dabbling into relationships that probably won’t even last.

The girls re-entered the living room at the same moment y/n went back with her full cup of Sangria. “Alright, boys, the bedroom is yours. It’s just around the corner,” Savannah told them, pointing to the door she’d left open.

The four boys got up and, after receiving the pj’s from Savannah, disappeared into the bedroom. The complete quiet returning in the room. It made y/n a little anxious that the girls weren’t even talking. Mostly because she knew what they were thinking. They had told her a bizillion times already.

“You could at least ask him!”

“He might say yes!”

“You should act on your feelings!”

“This is gonna make you crazy!”

She’d responded to that last one with, “If it doesn’t, you ain’t doing it right.” It shut them right up for a while. Until now, it seemed.

“Let’s put some music on and get this party really started!” Tori suggested, hitting her hand against the red cup she was holding, excited to get dancing. Savannah agreed and grabbed her phone from the coffee table, connecting them to the speakers. It didn’t take long after that for music to begin filling up the silence.

Into The Unknown from Frozen II chimed through the room. All the girls gasped. All but one. She cursed at herself for feeling this way and basically being a buzzkill right now. She didn’t want to be this way, but the thoughts about Owen kept consuming her.

“I can hear you but I won't Some look for trouble while others don't There's a thousand reasons I should go about my day And ignore your whispers which I wish would go away, oh Whoa”

Tori and Madi turned to y/n as they sang along with Idina Menzel, trying to convince her to get up and belt the song with them.

“You're not a voice, you're just a ringing in my ear And if I heard you, which I don't, I'm spoken for I fear Everyone I've ever loved is here within these walls I'm sorry, secret siren, but I'm blocking out your calls I've had my adventure, I don't need something new I'm afraid of what I'm risking if I follow you”

The other four girls now sang to y/n as well, in an attempt to persuade her to party along with them. She wanted to, she really did. But y/n wouldn’t be y/n if she wasn’t a little stubborn at first.

“Into the unknown Into the unknown”

Madison reached out her hand, but y/n slapped it away and got up on the sofa, belting out the last line of the chorus while the girls looked at her in awe. They knew she could dance and act, but they had no idea the girl had pipes.

“Into the unknown”

As the girls belted out the rest of the song, the boys walked into the living room again in their Team Phantoms and Team Dirty Candy shirts, stumbling upon the scene of y/n on the sofa and the girls surrounding her as if they were her fans at a concert. All seven of them were singing the song at the top of their lungs.

Owen couldn’t help the smile finding its way to his lips as he watched y/n in her absolute element. Though she be but small, the girl took up a large part of his heart. Ever since they met a month ago, her snarky remarks and her hunch for competition made him fall head over heels in love with her. And as the month went on and they became closer and closer, he kept avoiding asking the one question that was on the tip of his tongue.

For now, being friends was enough for Owen if it meant watching her do stuff like this.

“Are you out there? Do you know me? Can you feel me? Can you show me?”

Charlie’s voice made Owen snap out of his thoughts as he asked, “When are you going to ask her out, man? This whole ‘just friends’ thing is killing you.” Owen sighed at his best friend’s words. It wasn’t that he was wrong as much as he just didn’t like hearing the words out loud.

“I’m fine, Charlie. There’s no way we could ever be together. Y/N is way too professional for that. And she might be right, you know? This is her first gig, if she wants to pursue this acting debacle, she has to be.” Owen didn’t even believe any of the words that rolled off his lips, but it’s what he’d settled on to ease his own mind.

“Not with that attitude,” Jeremy mumbled.

“I just don’t know what to do, okay?” he said and headed over to the concert y/n was giving the girls. The moment he came into her range of vision, she turned to him and sang the very last lines to him, and him alone, causing butterflies to well up in his belly.

“Where are you going? Don't leave me alone How do I follow you Into the unknown?”

“Woah, y/n!” Halle exclaimed as she shook her head in disbelief.

“Yeah! Woah indeed!” Savannah added, “Your voice! Girl!” Y/N chuckled, and grabbed the hem of her pink shorts as though she was wearing a dress and curtsied at the praise.

“Thank you,” she said, and though she was playing it off coolly, her cheeks colored pink.

The next song started to play, which was Golden by Harry Styles, and the other three boys joined the rest of the group. Charlie, Sacha and Tori hopped onto the couch with y/n, belting out the song and sipping from their punch.

This was what the sleepover mostly consisted of; singing along loudly to whatever song was playing, sipping from the punch and munching on the snacks Savannah had laid out for them. For at least an hour, they sang and danced until their feet started to ache. Up to the point where only y/n, Savannah and Madi were left standing. The boys and other girls had taken a seat on the couch, watching the performance they were giving them.

Y/N had enough of their lame asses, so when her favorite One Direction song came on, she made her way over to the couch and took a hold of Owen’s hand first. “Come on, Golden Boy! Sing with me!” Little did she know everyone glanced at each other knowingly upon seeing this.

“If I didn't have you, there would be nothing left The shell of a man that could never be his best If I didn't have you, I'd never see the sun You taught me how to be someone, yeah”

Owen finally caved in and sang along with the girl in front of him, eyes locked and filled with absolute admiration.

“I’m… gonna…” Savannah muttered, but when she realized they didn’t even hear her, she ushered everyone out of the living room and into the kitchen, leaving the two alone in hopes they would confess their undeniable love for each other.

The boy twirled her around a few times, making her giggle before they fell into song again, making up some moves as they went. Neither of them even noticed the rest of the group was gone and watching them from the kitchen.

“Anyone wanna bet nothing’s gonna happen?” Sacha muttered and frustratedly sipped his drink. He’d seen the way y/n looked at Owen that first day and just knew something would blossom between them. Everyone could see it. The sparks were ignited that very first day, and now they were just waiting for them to fan the sparks into a flame.

“If I didn't have you there would be nothing left”

Y/N reached her half empty red cup towards Owen like a microphone as he echoed part of the line. His green eyes never left y/n’s face. It almost felt reminiscent of the way Madison and Charlie sang at bootcamp as Julie and Luke.

“Nothing left”

“The shell of a man who could never be his best”

“Be his best”

“If I didn't have you, I'd never see the sun”

“See the sun”

“You taught me how to be someone

Yeah”

“I’ll give you ten dollars if Owen doesn’t stop at the end of the song when y/n hits those high notes,” Charlie told Sacha. The latter nodded his head in confirmation of the deal.

At the end of the song, during the very last chorus, Owen had to stop singing in awe of y/n’s voice as she hit the high notes Harry Styles reverberated in between the other boys’ voices. She had the most unique voice he had ever heard. It had a bit of a rasp to it, and it quickly became his favorite sound in the whole world.

Charlie chuckled, shaking his head at the couple as he exclaimed, “Called it!” and held his hand out for Sacha to give him the ten dollars. The blonde guy gave the older one a puzzled look. “I said I’ll give you a tenner if he didn’t stop. But he did, so. Hand it over, buddy.”

Sacha rolled his eyes but went to grab the last ten bucks from his wallet and handed it to Charlie who happily socked it away.

Another song started playing, making y/n gasp as her eyes averted from Owen’s to the kitchen where the rest of her friends were seated, watching the entire scene. “Tori! Do you remember the choreo to this one?!” she shrieked out. Tori offered the rest an apologetic smile before joining y/n in the living room and getting into the steps with her while Owen staggered into the kitchen.

Madison and Savannah exchanged glances, deciding to put their mischievous plan in motion with a simple nod of the head. “Alright! Let’s play truth or dare!” Savannah called out and beckoned everyone into the living room where y/n and Tori whined at the disruption of their dance.

“Oh, shut up, you guys do that dance almost every day in rehearsal!” Kyra countered while she jumped over the back of the couch. With a chuckle, Tori and y/n joined the others on the couch. Tori took a seat next Jadah while y/n went to sit on the end of the U-shaped couch, next to Owen.

“I’ll start!” Madi shouted, raising her hand. “Jadah! Truth or dare?” Savannah and Madison agreed to handle it subtly and not get to Owen and y/n straight away.

“Dare,” Jadah replied courageously, a wide smile on her face to show off her pearly white teeth.

“Call one of your contacts in your phone and tell them you had a pregnancy scare,” Madi said as a smirk tugged at one corner of her mouth. Jadah grabbed her phone and opened her contacts. “Just scroll through and we’ll say stop,” Madison added.

“STOP!” Madi and y/n shouted in unison.

Jadah looked up with her eyes wide, “It’s Sarah Jeffrey,” she giggled and pressed the name before putting the device at her ear to listen. A silence fell over the room as they all watched Jadah carry out the dare.

A smile played on y/n’s lips as she watched the young girl talk, but couldn’t help but zone out. She was suddenly incredibly aware of how close she was to Owen. He had one leg tucked under the other as she rested her forearm on his knee, leaning into his body as his arm laid on the back rest behind her. She could feel his heart beating against her ribs and his fingers softly graze her arm every now and again.

“Jadah, your turn,” Savannah said, making y/n realize she had missed that entire conversation. It didn’t seem like Sarah Jeffrey said something too incredulous since everyone seemed to act quite normal. For as far as normal goes in this group.

“Sacha! Truth or dare?”

“Dare!”

“Uhm…” Jadah pursed her lips as she thought. “Try and seduce the person next to you.” Sacha looked to his left, at Jeremy, and then to his right, at Charlie. He thought about it for a moment but turned to Charlie in the end.

“I have too much respect for Carolynn,” he told Jeremy, which made the engaged boy chuckle as he played around with his ring. He definitely missed Care.

Sacha cleared his throat before placing his hand on Charlie’s cheek and forcing the boy to look him in the eyes. Charlie’s smile faltered just before Sacha spoke, “You… Are so beautiful, you made me forget my pickup line.” His voice was hushed, barely above a whisper. Charlie visibly swallowed at the pretty boy in front of him. Before he could register it, Sacha had kissed his own fingers and placed them on Charlie’s lips. The older boy coughed, blinking his eyes rapidly as he turned to the group again.

“Woah-kay! Next!”

The group burst out into laughter until Sacha called out Savannah’s name.

“I’m gonna pick ‘truth’,” she said with a smile, which vanished almost straight away when she got booed. “What? Somebody's gotta pick truth!”

“Who is the sexiest person here?” Sacha asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Easy, all of you,” she uttered, shrugging her shoulders, “Y/N!” She pointed at the girl to her right.

“Let’s go dare,” the unknowing girl answered with a smile as she shifted in Owen’s arms.

“7 minutes in heaven with the person to your right.” The sentence flowed out of her mouth a little too easily. Y/N knew Savannah had done this on purpose, and now she wasn’t sure if she should hate her best friend or be thankful for the little push in the back.

Y/N slowly turned her head to face Owen, only to find out he’s already getting up. Her arm fell from his knee and she tried to keep her balance from the sudden lack of support of her body. He held a hand out to her to help her up, but y/n wasn’t sure if she should do it. This could just about change everything in their dynamique.

“A dare is a dare, y/n,” Madison added innocently, egging the girl on.

The girl inhaled deeply before gently placing her hand in Owen’s and letting him pull her up. Savannah led them towards the closet where they kept their coats, and opened the door for the couple.

All the way down there, y/n’s mind couldn’t stop racing. What was she going to do? Were they actually going to kiss? Or was this his way of telling her in private that he didn’t feel the same? Maybe she should just not give him the chance to say anything and break her heart. Maybe she should just kiss him to have at least experienced having his lips on hers so she could stop daydreaming about it.

The closet door shut behind her, and she was left in the dimly lit cramped space with just a bunch of coats and Owen’s silhouette. Now’s her time to figure out what she should do. Now’s her time to decide.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to, I--” before Owen could finish his sentence, y/n attacked his lips with hers, pressing them together in a short, but sweet kiss. When she pulled away, she felt a heat rising to her cheeks. His lips taste better than she had ever dreamt of. How was she now supposed to forget about that? This was a terrible idea.

Or at least she thought it was until he took this as permission to go forth with the whole seven minutes in heaven thing their friends wanted them to do. Hell, he wanted them to do it.

He kissed her feverishly, his hands gripping at her waist as he tried to pull her closer and closer, even if that was almost impossible since her body was already pressed against his without any space left for imagination.

She kissed him back as if her life depended on it, her fingers tangling up in his blonde hair. This was something she had fantasized about for a month. Every time they talked, she couldn’t help herself but glance at his lips and wonder what it would feel like to press hers to his. Since that very first day of bootcamp, she knew there was something about him that she couldn’t put her finger on. But now she did. It was an attraction. Pure attraction. The way metal attracts a magnet.

“I’ve wanted to do that since you so confidently told Kenny you were gonna win that game,” he panted, pressing his forehead against hers. “I didn’t think you felt the same.”

“I have had a crush on you since you smiled at me that first day,” y/n admitted, a smile forming on her face as she stared into those beautiful eyes of his. They reflected back in exactly the same way they did after those ice breaking games on day one.

He lifted his head to get a better look at her, raising his eyebrows, “That’s all it took? OK…” Y/N let out an airy laugh as she hit him on the chest playfully. “So, what do you say to a date?”

“Nothing, ‘cause a date can’t speak,” she wittily answered. Owen scoffed and rolled his eyes, but couldn’t withhold a smile reaching his cheeks. “All jokes aside, I think I would say yes to a date.” She reached up and stroked a strand of his hair from his forehead.

“You think?” he asked.

“Mmh, no, I’m pretty sure.”

That just widened Owen’s smile before he dipped down to meet her lips again. A loud uproar was heard from the other side of the door at that moment. The couple in the closet giggled upon hearing this, knowing exactly that their friends had been eavesdropping.

“Can’t believe they set this all up,” y/n said, shaking her head and placing her forehead against Owen’s chest. She inhaled his fresh scent of musk and sandalwood. A calming smell she had come to love.

“Yeah... me neither,” he chuckled, “How did we end up here?”

JATP taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg@thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon @caitsymichelle13 @calamitykaty @wiselight @kcd15 @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @stars-soph @kinda-really-lost @notasofti

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #julie and the fat ones #jatp #owen patrick joyner #owen joyner #owen x reader #owen joyner fic #owen joyner one shot

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