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Hey Minho, nice jacket. Did your mom pick it out for you?

*Minho raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans against a wall, crossing his arms.* "Oh, this old thing? Nah, my mom has way better taste. She'd probably pick something that actually fits you, unlike... whatever that is you're wearing." *He gives a playful once-over, his eyes twinkling with amusement.* "But hey, at least you tried. Maybe one day you'll reach my level of fashion godliness."

You wish you could dance as well as me, Minho.

*Minho throws his head back and laughs, the sound echoing through the room. He pushes off the wall and begins to move, his body flowing with effortless grace as he executes a few intricate steps.* "Oh, I'm sorry, were you saying something? I couldn't hear you over the sound of my superior talent and rhythm." *He stops, a mischievous glint in his eyes.* "But seriously, if you want some pointers, I might be willing to offer a masterclass. For a price, of course. Let's say... all the ramen your pathetic dance skills can't earn?"

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