The dawn broke slowly, golden rays filtering through the curtains of Ji-hoon's room. But as he lay in bed, the warmth of the sun couldn't chase away the chill of determination that coursed through him. Today was the day he would confront Lucien. Today, he would voice his concerns and assert his own identity, no matter the consequences.
As he dressed, Ji-hoon replayed the words he would say in his mind, practicing the phrases until they felt natural on his tongue. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead.
He found Lucien in the grand studio that overlooked the sprawling gardens. The wooden floors gleamed in the sunlight, and the mirrors lined the walls, reflecting the majesty of the space. Lucien was already warming up, stretching his limbs with the precision of a machine.
"Good morning, Étienne," Lucien greeted, not bothering to look up. His focus remained on his own movements, a testament to the discipline he embodied.
"Lucien, can we talk?" Ji-hoon said, trying to keep his voice steady.
Lucien paused and turned to face him, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. "Of course. What is it?"
Ji-hoon swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat. "I wanted to discuss the training. I feel like it's too much, and I—"
"Too much?" Lucien interrupted, his tone sharp. "You're ten years old, and yet you're already showing potential that many would kill for. This is an opportunity, Étienne, not a burden. Don't squander it."
"But—"
"Training begins now," Lucien cut him off again, his voice dropping into a commanding tone that made Ji-hoon's heart race. "Get into position."
Ji-hoon hesitated, feeling a rush of frustration. "I'm not finished!"
Lucien's eyes darkened, and he crossed his arms. "You think you can come here and challenge my authority? I'm your mentor, not your friend. Now, get into position."
Feeling the heat of embarrassment flush his cheeks, Ji-hoon complied. He stepped onto the marked floor, taking a deep breath to center himself. He could feel Lucien's penetrating gaze on him, scrutinizing every move, every breath.
"First position," Lucien commanded. "And hold."
Ji-hoon obeyed, raising his arms gracefully while trying to ignore the anxiety bubbling inside him. Lucien observed him for a moment before continuing. "You need to hold it longer. A dancer must embody grace and strength simultaneously. Understand?"
"Yes," Ji-hoon murmured, straining to keep his arms raised. The seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity, each moment heavy with pressure.
"Count," Lucien instructed, his voice devoid of compassion.
"One, two, three…" Ji-hoon began, the numbers falling from his lips like an incantation, but his body was beginning to tremble.
"Louder! Project your voice! You are not a child anymore. You are a D'Arcy!"
The fire in Lucien's words ignited something within Ji-hoon. "One, two, three, four—" he counted louder, his voice shaking as fatigue set in.
"Focus, Étienne!" Lucien snapped, eyes narrowing. "This is just the beginning. You must push through your limits. This is how you will earn your place."
Just as Ji-hoon thought he couldn't hold on any longer, Lucien stepped closer, his presence looming. "Five, six, seven… You feel that? That's weakness trying to break you. Don't give in to it."
With a final burst of energy, Ji-hoon held on for a few more counts before he could bear it no longer. "I can't!" he gasped, dropping his arms and collapsing to the floor, panting.
Lucien's expression hardened, disappointment etched across his features. "You're weak, Étienne. If you want to dance, you must embrace the pain. This is what the world expects of you."
Ji-hoon glared up at Lucien, defiance rising within him. "But I want to dance for myself, not for some legacy you've created!"
"Your wants are irrelevant!" Lucien shouted, and the echo of his voice reverberated off the walls. "You have a duty. You will learn that this is not just about you. It's about our family, our name."
Fury bubbled within Ji-hoon, and he struggled to suppress it. "What if I don't want that name? What if I want to be more than just a D'Arcy?"
Lucien stepped closer, his gaze intense. "You are already more than just a name, Étienne. You are the future. But that future requires sacrifice. Now, get up. We're not done."
With a reluctant groan, Ji-hoon pushed himself up from the floor, his limbs heavy and sore. He felt defeated, but a fire still flickered in his heart, igniting a spark of rebellion against the relentless expectations.
For the next hour, Lucien put Ji-hoon through a grueling routine of barre exercises, pirouettes, and pliés. Each command was delivered with relentless precision, and the sweat poured down Ji-hoon's back as he struggled to keep up.
"Again! Again! Again!" Lucien barked, his voice cutting through Ji-hoon's exhaustion. The intensity of the training was harrowing, and Ji-hoon could feel the cracks in his resolve beginning to show.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lucien relented. "Enough for today," he declared, his tone sharp but laced with a hint of approval. "You've made progress, but it's only the beginning. You will return tomorrow for more. You must learn that the path to greatness is paved with hard work."
Ji-hoon nodded silently, his heart heavy with a mix of defeat and determination. As he left the studio, he felt as if he were carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
In the hallway, he spotted Yuna sitting on a bench, her face pale and weary. She looked up as he approached, concern etched across her features. "Étienne, are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he replied, brushing past her. "Just tired."
"Did Lucien push you too hard again?" she asked, her voice low.
Ji-hoon paused, unsure of how to answer. "It doesn't matter. I'll get used to it."
"But you shouldn't have to endure that kind of pressure at your age," Yuna said softly, standing to face him. "You're still a child, and it's okay to feel overwhelmed."
He looked into her eyes, feeling the warmth and concern radiating from her. "But if I don't keep up, I'll disappoint him. And if I disappoint him, then…"
"Then you'll lose sight of who you really are," she finished gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You can't let his expectations define you, Étienne. Remember to dance for yourself."
Her words lingered in his mind as he walked away, and as he climbed into bed that night, the fatigue of the day weighed heavily on him. But beneath that exhaustion, the flame of rebellion burned brightly.
He wouldn't be molded into something he wasn't. Tomorrow, he would face Lucien again, not as a defeated boy, but as a young man determined to carve out his own identity amidst the demands of a legacy he had yet to embrace.