The week leading up to Hana's dance performance was a blur for Jian. Classes felt like they dragged on forever, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about her. Each time he opened his sketchbook, he found himself drawing her again—her graceful movements, the way her hair flowed when she danced, and her smile that seemed to shine even on the dullest days.
But along with the warmth he felt, there was a growing storm inside him. Doubt and jealousy kept creeping in. He tried to push the feelings away, but they clung to him like shadows. Every time he saw Tae-hyun laughing with Hana, a knot twisted tighter in his stomach.
What if she likes him? Jian thought over and over. What if I'm just fooling myself?
The idea made him feel small and powerless. He wanted to believe he had a chance, but the fear of losing her kept holding him back.
---
The day of the performance finally arrived. Jian showed up early at the auditorium, wanting to get the best seat he could. He found a spot in the front row, exactly where Hana had told him to sit. The place was already filling up with students, friends, and families. The excited chatter of the crowd buzzed in the air, but Jian felt strangely distant from it all.
He clutched his sketchbook tightly on his lap. It had become his way of holding onto Hana, as if his drawings could somehow keep her close even when he couldn't find the courage to say the words in his heart.
When the lights dimmed, the noise in the room faded into quiet anticipation. Jian's heartbeat quickened as the stage lights came up.
The music began, soft at first, and then Hana appeared.
Jian's breath caught in his throat.
She moved across the stage like she was floating. Every step, every gesture seemed to have a purpose, telling a story without words. The crowd watched in silence, completely captivated, but Jian saw more than just the beauty of her movements—he saw Hana.
She was smiling, but there was a softness in her expression, almost like she was dancing for someone, not just the crowd. For him? The thought flashed through his mind, but he quickly pushed it away. Don't think like that, he told himself.
Still, he couldn't look away. The way the light hit her as she twirled, the way the music carried her movements—it was like watching magic come to life. Jian felt his chest tighten, his emotions swirling inside him like a storm. He wanted to tell her so badly how much she meant to him. How she inspired him, how she made him feel like he was alive for the first time.
---
The performance ended with a flourish, and the crowd erupted into applause. Hana took a bow, her face glowing with happiness as she looked out at the audience. Jian clapped too, his hands almost trembling. She was perfect, he thought. How could anyone be so perfect?
After the show, the students poured out of the auditorium, chattering excitedly about the performances. Jian waited quietly in the hallway near the dressing rooms, clutching his sketchbook and hoping to catch Hana before she left.
A group of dancers came out, laughing and chatting, and then he saw her. Hana was walking beside Tae-hyun, her laughter ringing out like a bell. Tae-hyun was smiling, his arm casually slung over her shoulder as they joked about something.
Jian froze.
The sight hit him harder than he expected. He tried to tell himself it was innocent—Tae-hyun was her cousin, after all—but his insecurities didn't care. All he could see was how easy things were between them. How natural, how close.
Why can't I be like that? Jian thought bitterly.
Hana noticed him then, her face lighting up. "Jian!" She waved and hurried over, Tae-hyun trailing behind her.
"You came!" she said happily, stopping in front of him. "What did you think?"
Jian struggled to find his voice. "You were… amazing," he said finally, his voice quiet.
Hana grinned. "Thank you. It means a lot that you were here."
Tae-hyun stepped up beside her, smiling easily. "She was great, wasn't she? I told her she'd steal the show."
Jian nodded, avoiding Tae-hyun's gaze. "Yeah… she did."
Hana glanced between the two of them, sensing the shift in the air. "Jian, are you okay?" she asked softly.
"I'm fine," Jian said quickly, forcing a smile. "Just tired, I guess."
Hana frowned slightly, as if she didn't quite believe him. "Well, I'm glad you came. It wouldn't have been the same without you."
Her words made his heart ache, but before he could say anything, Tae-hyun spoke up. "Hana, are you ready to go? Everyone's meeting at the café to celebrate."
"Right," Hana said, turning back to Jian. "You should come too! Everyone will be there, and—"
Jian shook his head. "No, it's okay. I should probably get home."
Hana looked disappointed. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah," Jian said, trying to keep his voice steady. "You should go. You deserve to celebrate."
Hana hesitated, then smiled softly. "Okay. But let's talk tomorrow, okay?"
Jian nodded, forcing another smile. "Sure. Tomorrow."
Hana gave him one last look before walking off with Tae-hyun. Jian watched them leave, his chest heavy.
---
Jian walked home alone, the cold wind biting at his face. The streets were quiet, and all he could hear was the sound of his footsteps. His mind replayed the moment again and again—Hana laughing with Tae-hyun, the way she looked so happy, so comfortable.
He couldn't help but wonder: What am I doing?
He felt so small, so invisible. Hana deserved someone who could stand beside her confidently, someone who wouldn't hold back or hesitate. Someone who wasn't him.
By the time he reached his small apartment, Jian felt drained. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his sketchbook on the table. Slowly, he opened it to the last page he'd been working on—a sketch of Hana mid-dance, her face glowing with happiness.
He touched the page with his fingertips, as if he could reach out to her through the lines and shadows.
"I can't lose you," he whispered, the words barely audible.
But deep down, the fear was growing. The fear that maybe he already had.