Jian's fingers hovered over the keyboard, the words on the Art in Motion application form staring back at him. His heart raced as if he were about to walk on stage instead of typing a few lines.
**Why do you want to join this event?**
The question felt heavier than it should. What was he supposed to say? That he wanted to challenge himself? That he wanted to work with Hana? That he wasn't sure why, but something about this event felt like a chance to step out of his quiet world?
After minutes of hesitation, he finally began typing.
*"I want to explore the connection between art and movement. I believe that both forms can tell stories in ways words cannot. This event feels like a chance to grow as an artist and as a person."*
It wasn't perfect, but it felt honest. Jian quickly scanned the rest of the form and submitted it before he could second-guess himself.
The moment he hit the submit button, a mix of relief and panic washed over him. It was done. There was no turning back now.
---
The following days were agonizing. Jian couldn't stop wondering if he would be accepted into the event or who his partner might be. He spent more time sketching than usual, trying to distract himself, but even his sketches started to reflect his nervous energy—lines that were too sharp, compositions that felt chaotic.
On Friday, an email finally arrived.
**Subject:** Congratulations, Jian!
Jian's hands trembled as he opened it.
*"We're thrilled to inform you that you've been selected to participate in Art in Motion. Your partner will be assigned at the orientation meeting on Monday at 5 PM in the campus auditorium. Congratulations, and we can't wait to see what you create!"*
His heart leapt. He had made it.
But then the fear set in. What if his partner wasn't Hana? What if he messed everything up?
---
Monday came too quickly. Jian arrived at the auditorium early, clutching his sketchbook like a lifeline. The room was already buzzing with energy—dancers stretching and chatting in small groups, artists flipping through sketchbooks or organizing their supplies.
He spotted Hana almost immediately. She was standing with a few other dancers, laughing at something one of them had said. Her confidence, her ease—it was mesmerizing.
Before he could decide whether to approach her, a staff member called for everyone's attention.
"Welcome, everyone, to Art in Motion! We're so excited to have you here. Today, we'll be pairing you up with your partners. Once you're assigned, you'll have some time to get to know each other and brainstorm ideas for your performance."
The staff member began reading out names, and Jian's nerves skyrocketed with each one.
Finally, his name was called.
"Jian Kang, you'll be paired with Hana Lee."
Jian froze, hardly believing what he'd heard.
Hana turned toward him, her face lighting up when she saw him. "Looks like we're partners!" she said, walking over.
Jian's throat felt dry, but he managed a small smile. "Yeah. Looks like it."
---
Once the pairings were complete, Jian and Hana found a quiet corner of the auditorium to talk.
"So," Hana began, sitting cross-legged on the floor, "do you have any ideas for what we should do?"
Jian hesitated. He had been so focused on whether he'd get accepted—and whether Hana would be his partner—that he hadn't thought much about the actual project.
"Well," he said slowly, "I was thinking… maybe we could tell a story through movement and sketches. Like, you could dance, and I could draw live while you perform. The drawings could be projected behind you as part of the performance."
Hana's eyes lit up. "I love that! It's like we'd be creating art in real-time. Your sketches would show the emotions of the dance, and my movements would bring your art to life. It's perfect."
Jian felt a small surge of confidence at her enthusiasm. "Do you have a theme in mind?"
Hana thought for a moment. "What about growth? Like, the journey of a flower blooming? It could start with the seed being planted, then growing through challenges—wind, storms, things like that—until it finally blossoms."
Jian nodded slowly, already imagining how he could depict each stage of the journey. "I think that could work. I can use different drawing styles to match the mood of each part of the dance."
"Exactly," Hana said. "And maybe we could include a prop—a flower or something—to tie it all together."
They spent the next hour brainstorming, bouncing ideas off each other. Jian couldn't believe how easy it was to talk to Hana, how natural their collaboration felt.
---
Over the next few weeks, Jian and Hana met almost every day to work on their project. They practiced in the dance studio, a spacious room with mirrored walls and hardwood floors.
Hana would run through her choreography while Jian sketched furiously, trying to capture the energy of her movements. He experimented with different techniques—quick, expressive lines for the more intense parts of the dance, softer, delicate strokes for the quieter moments.
"Show me what you've got," Hana said one afternoon, wiping sweat from her brow after finishing a particularly difficult sequence.
Jian handed her his sketchbook, feeling a little nervous.
"These are amazing," Hana said after flipping through a few pages. "I can feel the movement in your lines. It's like the dance is right there on the page."
Jian felt his face heat up. "Thanks. Your dancing makes it easy to draw."
Hana laughed. "I'm pretty sure that's all you."
Their work sessions became the highlight of Jian's days. For the first time, he felt like he was part of something bigger than himself, like he was creating something truly meaningful.
---
One evening, as they were wrapping up, Hana pulled the keychain from Jian's bag and held it up.
"You've kept this," she said, a soft smile on her face.
"Of course," Jian said. "It's special."
Hana looked at him, her expression turning thoughtful. "You know, Jian, you're a lot braver than you think. Signing up for this, working with me, putting yourself out there—it's not easy. But you're doing it."
Jian didn't know how to respond. No one had ever said something like that to him before.
"Thanks," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
Hana reached out and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "You're doing great. Don't forget that."
As she walked away, Jian looked down at the keychain in his hand. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he might actually believe her.
---