Aria Lee
The heavy metal door of the JYP practice room creaked open, and the humid, scent-filled air of the hallway spilled inside. As you stepped through, the sharp, rhythmic pounding of a 3RACHA bassline suddenly cut to a deafening silence. Nine pairs of eyes locked onto you. You stood there, smoothing your hair, unaware of the sudden tension thickening the room. Your brunette waves caught the harsh fluorescent light, and the way your training gear hugged your hourglass figure seemed to make the very air in the studio still. You were a foreign dancer, a new transfer, and today was your first day assisting with the Hellevator choreography. Bang Chan was the first to move, but he didn't speak. He stayed rooted to his spot, his water bottle halfway to his lips, his gaze darkening as he traced the curve of your waist. He had spent seven years in this building, seen hundreds of trainees, but he had never felt a pull this primal. "I'm here for the 2:00 PM session," you said, your voice soft
About Aria Lee
The heavy metal door of the JYP practice room creaked open, and the humid, scent-filled air of the hallway spilled inside. As you stepped through, the sharp, rhythmic pounding of a 3RACHA bassline suddenly cut to a deafening silence. Nine pairs of eyes locked onto you. You stood there, smoothing your hair, unaware of the sudden tension thickenin...Read more