The days leading up to the first rehearsal on stage felt like a blur. Jian and Hana had spent hours refining their performance concept. They'd sketched out ideas, adjusted choreography, and worked out the timing for the transitions between her movements and his live drawings.
But the closer the rehearsal got, the more Jian's nerves kicked in.
He arrived early to the auditorium, his sketchbook tucked under his arm and a few pencils in his pocket. The stage looked massive compared to the small dance studio they had been practicing in. Its vastness only made him feel smaller, less prepared.
As he stood there, staring at the empty space, Hana arrived. She dropped her bag on a nearby chair and walked over to him.
"You okay?" she asked, tilting her head.
Jian nodded quickly, even though his heart was pounding. "Yeah. Just… the stage looks bigger than I remembered."
Hana smiled. "It's not as scary as it seems. Once we get started, you won't even notice."
He wanted to believe her, but his stomach still churned.
---
The rehearsal started with the event coordinator, a cheerful woman named Ms. Park, giving the pairs a rundown of the schedule. Each group had fifteen minutes to test their performance on stage.
Jian and Hana were third in line. As the first group began their routine, Jian sat in the audience, flipping through his sketchbook to calm his nerves. Hana, meanwhile, stretched near the stage, her movements fluid and graceful even when she wasn't performing.
"You're up next," Ms. Park called out after the second group finished.
Hana gave Jian a reassuring smile. "Ready?"
He swallowed hard but nodded.
---
The moment Jian stepped onto the stage, the bright lights hit him. They were blinding, making it hard to see the audience seating. That should have been comforting, but instead, it made him feel like he was floating in a spotlight, exposed.
Hana, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease. She moved to her starting position, the stage becoming her second home.
"Let's just run through the first part," she said. "No pressure. It's just a rehearsal."
Jian took his place at the side of the stage, where a small table had been set up for his sketching. He adjusted the projector that would display his drawings onto the backdrop and grabbed his pencil.
"Okay," he said quietly, more to himself than to Hana.
The music started—a soft, almost haunting melody that they had chosen to represent the "seed" phase of their story. Hana began to move, her arms curling inward as if protecting something precious.
Jian let the pencil flow across the paper, drawing delicate, spiraling lines that mirrored her movements. He tried to lose himself in the rhythm, focusing on the connection between her dance and his sketches.
But then the music picked up, signaling the transition to the "growth" phase. Hana's movements became faster, more dynamic, and Jian struggled to keep up. His lines became frantic, messy. He could feel his heart racing as he tried to match the energy of the performance.
"Stop," Hana said suddenly, her voice cutting through the music.
The abrupt halt startled Jian.
Hana walked over to him, her expression calm but serious. "What's wrong?"
"I… I messed up," Jian admitted, staring at the scribbles on his sketchpad. "I couldn't keep up with you."
Hana crouched down next to him, looking at the sketches. "It's not about perfection, Jian. The point is to capture the feeling. Look at this one." She pointed to a jagged, swirling line he had drawn during one of her spins. "It's raw, but it works. It shows movement. That's what matters."
Jian hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. I'll try again."
---
They restarted the routine, and this time, Jian focused less on getting every line right and more on capturing the essence of Hana's dance. The chaotic energy of the "growth" phase, the tension of the "storms," and finally, the calm beauty of the "bloom."
When they finished, Ms. Park clapped from the back of the auditorium. "That was wonderful! You two have great chemistry."
Jian glanced at Hana, who smiled and gave him a thumbs-up.
"See? Told you it wasn't so scary," she said.
---
Over the next few days, Jian and Hana continued to refine their performance. They spent hours in the auditorium, adjusting the timing and experimenting with different techniques. Jian discovered that using charcoal instead of pencil gave his drawings a more dramatic effect, especially during the stormy sections of the performance.
One afternoon, while they were taking a break, Hana sat cross-legged on the stage, sipping water from a bottle.
"Can I ask you something?" she said.
"Sure," Jian replied, sitting beside her.
"Why did you sign up for this event? I mean, you're an amazing artist, but this doesn't seem like your kind of thing."
Jian hesitated, unsure how much to share. "I guess… I wanted to challenge myself. I've always stayed in my comfort zone, but when I saw the flyer for this event, something about it just… spoke to me."
Hana nodded thoughtfully. "I get that. Sometimes you just have to take a leap, even if it scares you."
Jian glanced at her. "What about you? Why did you sign up?"
She smiled. "For me, dance has always been about connection. It's a way to express things I can't put into words. When I heard about this event, I thought it would be amazing to combine that with another art form. Plus…" She paused, her smile turning playful. "I like a good challenge."
Jian chuckled. "I guess we're both here for the same reason, then."
"Yeah," Hana said softly. "I think we are."
---
The night before the final rehearsal, Jian found himself in his room, staring at the keychain Hana had given him. The small charm—a flower in bloom—felt like a reminder of everything they had been working toward.
He thought about how much had changed over the past few weeks. He had started this journey full of doubts, unsure if he could keep up with someone as talented and confident as Hana. But now, for the first time, he felt like he belonged—not just as an artist, but as part of a team.
Jian smiled to himself and placed the keychain back in his bag. Tomorrow was another chance to grow, to create something beautiful.
And for once, he was ready.
---