Trust Me..

The room was too quiet.

Siwon stayed seated in the corner, legs tucked under her and her phone in hand, though she hadn't read a single word on the screen in the last ten minutes. Her thoughts had spiraled so deeply that even the thrum of the air conditioner felt distant.

She wasn't waiting for Ryan.

She wasn't.

Or at least… she kept telling herself that.

The door creaked open behind her. She flinched a little, turning instinctively.

And there he was.

Ryan.

Back in the room where everything had begun — where his teasing had turned into something else entirely.

Except now, his face wasn't playful.

It wasn't warm.

He looked tired. Icy.

And annoyed.

His eyes swept over her, still seated with her phone, and something in his expression shifted — not surprise, but irritation he didn't bother hiding.

He walked past her, dropped his bag near the wall, and let out a sharp breath.

Then, without looking at her, he said flatly, "Can you give me the room?"

Siwon blinked. "Huh?"

He finally turned, his expression unreadable but his tone clipped. "I need to practice alone. Just… go."

The phone nearly slipped from her hands.

She stared at him. "Oh. Yeah. Sure."

Her voice was quiet, small — much smaller than she meant for it to be.

She scrambled up, brushing invisible dust off her leggings, tucking a few stray hairs behind her ear in an effort to not let it sting as much as it did.

He didn't say anything.

Didn't offer a smile. A joke. An explanation.

He just turned his back and started stretching like she wasn't even there.

She waited one second longer than she should've — just long enough to see if he'd glance over, if he'd stop her.

He didn't.

So she left.

The door clicked shut.

Too soft. Too easy.

Ryan didn't move right away.

He stayed facing the mirror, eyes fixed on his reflection, but not really seeing himself. His jaw tensed. Shoulders rigid.

He should've felt relieved. She was gone. He had the room. Space to think, to breathe, to shake off the irritation that had been building since the moment he saw her dancing with Sim Jae like—

Like she belonged there.

But instead of relief, all he felt was a suffocating stillness.

She didn't even say anything.

No teasing comeback.

No stubborn protest.

Not even a glare.

Just that small, startled "Oh," and then she left like he'd meant nothing at all.

He yanked off his hoodie, tossing it aside with more force than necessary. Ran a hand through his hair. Paced once.

Why didn't she argue?

That wasn't like her. She was bold. Scrappy. The girl who challenged him with just a look. Who fired back when he poked. Who didn't let him off the hook.

And now she just… walked away?

Why did that make it worse?

Why did it make him feel like he was the one being dismissed?

He dragged his palm across his mouth, trying to focus, but the image of her standing up — confused, hurt — was burned into his brain.

He shouldn't have snapped.

But seeing her with Sim Jae, laughing softly between takes, standing so close—

And then that smug call from Sim Jae asking if he was okay with them being partnered?

No. He wasn't.

Not even close.

Ryan looked at himself again in the mirror. His jaw clenched.

"She's not supposed to matter this much," he muttered to his reflection.

But his chest told a different story.

———

The clock ticked past noon, and most of the team had drifted to the café downstairs or slumped over benches for a nap. The studio was unusually quiet, dust motes floating in the lazy sunlight streaming from the skylights.

Siwon tied her hair up again, wiping the back of her neck with a towel before tossing it aside. She glanced at the empty mirror, then at Sim Jae, who was checking the playlist on his phone.

"Should we just run from the lift section?" she asked, stretching one leg behind her.

Sim Jae nodded. "From the third count. You're still hesitating on your turn."

"Because I'm terrified you'll drop me," she teased, just a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

Sim Jae smirked faintly, almost reluctant. "You think I'd let that happen?"

"I think you'd let me fall for the sake of precision."

He stepped closer. "Then trust me more."

His voice wasn't sharp, but it was heavier than usual — the kind of seriousness that made Siwon pause. She looked up at him. "Okay," she said quietly.

They found their marks. Music cued.

This time, they didn't miss a beat. The lift was smooth. His hands found the right grip at her waist, and she tilted back perfectly on rhythm. Her trust, for a second, was complete.

But as soon as she landed, the stillness between them cracked.

They held each other's gaze just a little too long.

"You hesitated again," Sim Jae murmured, but his voice lacked its usual critique.

"I didn't feel like I did."

"Your shoulder was tight." He touched her lightly, his fingers brushing the spot.

Her breath caught. She stepped back half a pace, covering it with a nod.

"Again?"

He nodded.

They went again. And again. Repeating the sequence until sweat trickled down the back of Siwon's neck and her muscles ached from the repetition.

But she didn't stop.

Because Sim Jae wasn't just watching her now — he was studying her. His usual calm now undercut with something else… something simmering.

"You've improved," he said at last, exhaling as they hit the final pose.

She leaned forward, hands on her knees. "High praise, coming from you."

"I didn't say you were perfect."

She smiled. "Wouldn't expect you to."

He watched her wipe her face with her sleeve, then added, more softly, "But I noticed… you dance differently when it's just the two of us."

She blinked. "How?"

"Like you're not trying to prove anything. Just… being."

The words sat heavy in the silence.

She didn't know what to say to that.

And before she could try, he stepped back, shaking his head like he'd said too much.

"Let's run it one last time," he said, eyes darting toward the mirror.

But his focus had cracked — just enough for her to see through it.

________

Just as the track stopped and Siwon bent to grab her water bottle, the door to the practice room creaked open with a sharp swing.

"Wow. Still practicing like it's your solo concert?" Shiaan's voice cut through the calm.

Siwon stood up straight, startled. "Just trying to clean up the timing."

Sim Jae gave a short nod to Shiaan, who didn't acknowledge it. Her sharp gaze remained fixed on Siwon.

"You should call Ryan in too," Shiaan said, arms folded. "If you and Sim Jae are doing this whole private partner session thing, we should all get equal time."

Her tone wasn't a suggestion — it was an accusation wrapped in faux concern.

"I didn't plan this," Siwon replied, trying to keep her voice even. "Coach said we should polish the lift section today. That's all."

"Right," Shiaan said flatly, stepping further into the room. "Just polish. Alone. In the middle of break."

Siwon frowned. "You're acting like I—"

"No," Shiaan cut in. "You're acting like we're stupid."

Sim Jae's brows furrowed. "Shiaan, behave."

"I was his partner," she snapped, looking at him now. "Yesterday I was dancing with you. Today, suddenly, she's your stage partner? And you are telling me to behave?"

"That wasn't our decision," he replied coolly unable to understand how did she dare to speak to him in that tone. "It came from the team leads."

She turned back to Siwon, jaw clenched. "How convenient."

Siwon held her ground. "You think I asked for this?"

"You didn't say no either."

The room went silent. Even the hum of the speaker system felt loud.

"Shiaan," Sim Jae said firmly. "We're just trying to get better. That's what rehearsal is for."

"I'm sure she's doing great," Shiaan muttered, backing toward the door. "So rare, right?"

"None of us is answerable to you!" Sim Jae said with his eyes fixed on Shiaan.

Siwon flinched.

"I'll call Ryan," Shiaan said, voice shaking a little now.

And then she was gone — the door slamming shut behind her.

Siwon exhaled, shoulders tense.

Sim Jae glanced at her. "You okay?"

"No," she said honestly. "But I will be."

He didn't press further. Just picked up his towel and tossed it over his shoulder. "You still want to finish the lift, or…?"

She shook her head. "No. I think I've been lifted enough for today."

He gave her a small, understanding smirk — the kind that didn't need words.

But Siwon's chest still felt tight. Because Shiaan was right about one thing:

This did feel convenient.

And Ryan?

He'd probably show up now, too.

________

The hallway felt colder than the practice room, and yet Siwon's skin still burned from the exchange.

She kept walking—past the mirrors, past the vending machine, up the stairwell—until her legs moved on instinct more than thought. She didn't stop until the rooftop door creaked open, letting in a rush of late afternoon breeze.

The sky was soft and moody above her, clouds turning dusky gray, but the air was clean. Honest.

She stepped out, closing the door behind her with a quiet thud.

Only then did she realise she wasn't alone.

Ryan.

Leaning against the railing, hoodie sleeves pushed up, jaw tight. One hand ran through his hair while the other gripped the cold metal. He looked like he hadn't even noticed her—like his thoughts were ten stories below, somewhere heavy and tangled.

….