The first rays of dawn streamed through Ji-hoon's window, stirring him from a restless sleep. The previous day had brought both a wave of excitement and a heavy burden. After weeks of relentless training, Lucien had finally allowed him to attend the prestigious ballet conservatoire and a local school, but there was a catch: he would need to sacrifice his precious sleep to balance both worlds.
As he dressed for the day, Ji-hoon felt a mix of anticipation and dread. Attending the conservatoire meant he would be around other dancers—people who had devoted their lives to ballet. The thought both thrilled and terrified him. Would he measure up? Would he find his place among them, or would he always be seen as Lucien's prodigy, living in the shadow of greatness?
"Etienne!" his mother called from downstairs, using his new legal name with ease, as if it had always been his. He sighed at the sound of it; he still felt like Ji-hoon, a boy tangled in his own identity. But there was no denying that "Etienne D'Arcy" had a certain ring to it—a name that carried weight, prestige, and, most importantly, expectations.
As he made his way downstairs, he caught glimpses of the world outside. The lush gardens of their estate were vibrant and alive, a stark contrast to the tumult in his mind. He could hear the birds chirping and the distant sounds of the city waking up. Today was a new beginning, but it felt like a double-edged sword.
When he reached the dining room, his mother greeted him with a warm smile, but there was a hint of worry in her eyes. "How are you feeling about today?" she asked, pouring him a cup of tea.
"I'm excited, but… also nervous," Ji-hoon admitted, taking a seat. "What if I don't fit in? What if everyone thinks I'm just the 'best ballet dancer's son'?"
"Etienne, remember that you are your own person. You have a talent of your own. Just focus on your passion for dance, and the rest will follow," Yuna encouraged, her voice soothing.
After breakfast, Ji-hoon walked to the conservatoire, the name D'Arcy echoing in his mind. He could already imagine the whispers as he entered the grand building. "That's Etienne D'Arcy, Lucien's son." The weight of those words felt almost suffocating.
As he stepped through the massive doors, the atmosphere was electric. The air hummed with the sound of dancers warming up, the rhythm of feet on wooden floors. The walls were adorned with mirrors, reflecting the determination of countless aspiring dancers. Ji-hoon felt a flutter of excitement, but it was quickly replaced by anxiety as he noticed the glances cast in his direction.
Whispers followed him like shadows. "He's Lucien D'Arcy's son. They say he's already a prodigy."
The weight of those expectations began to settle heavily on his shoulders. He felt as if everyone was waiting for him to prove himself, to live up to the name he bore.
In class, Ji-hoon struggled to keep up with the rigorous curriculum while still attending school. Each day was a whirlwind of ballet techniques, choreography, and academic lessons. To manage it all, he began to sacrifice sleep, staying up late to perfect his moves and complete his homework. The result was a haze of exhaustion that clouded his thoughts and movements.
One afternoon, after an especially grueling session, he found himself in the dressing room, tying his pointe shoes. A few older students sat nearby, gossiping.
"Did you see his Grand Jeté? He's definitely got potential," one of them said, her voice laced with skepticism. "But can he keep up with the rest of us?"
"I heard he only got in because of his father," another chimed in. "Just another rich kid trying to ride on his dad's coattails."
Ji-hoon clenched his jaw, the sting of their words igniting a fire within him. He wanted to shout, to defend himself, but he swallowed his frustration. He would show them through his actions, not his words.
As the weeks rolled by, he poured every ounce of energy into his training, yet he felt the fatigue piling on. His body protested, limbs heavy and sore. He was always on the verge of collapsing, but the pressure to succeed kept him going.
One evening, after an especially taxing day, Ji-hoon returned home late. Yuna was waiting up for him, concern etched across her features.
"Etienne, you need to take care of yourself. I'm worried about you," she said gently, as he sank onto the couch, utterly drained.
"I'm fine, Mom," he replied, though he knew it wasn't entirely true. "I just have to keep pushing. I want to be good enough. I want to prove them wrong."
Yuna shook her head, reaching out to touch his shoulder. "You don't have to prove anything to anyone but yourself. Dance for the joy of it, not just to silence the whispers."
He looked up at her, the exhaustion in his bones making him feel vulnerable. "But what if they're right? What if I'm not good enough without Lucien's name?"
"They're not right, and you are more than just a name. You have your own talent, and I believe in you," Yuna said firmly. "You have to believe in yourself too."
Her words resonated deep within him. He wanted to dance for himself, to carve out his own identity beyond the D'Arcy name. But as he lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, doubt crept in like a shadow.
Could he truly rise to the expectations placed upon him? Could he become the dancer he dreamed of being while navigating the pressure of his family's legacy?
As he drifted off to sleep, a small flicker of hope began to blossom within him. He would continue to work hard, to sacrifice and push through the fatigue. But he would also dance with passion and joy, embracing every part of who he was, D'Arcy or not.
And maybe, just maybe, he would find his own way to shine.