Jasper stood frozen, his earlier smugness completely wiped from his face. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. "That's… that's impossible."

The instructor removed her glasses slowly, cleaning them with deliberate care as she studied Yohan. When she put them back on, her expression was unreadable.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Yohan."

"Yohan," she repeated, as if testing how it sounded. "Have you really never taken a dance class before?"

"Never," he confirmed, brushing his hair with his fingers.

She was quiet for a long moment, her gaze piercing. Then, almost reluctantly, she nodded.

"That was... flawless. Every transition, every beat. You didn't miss a single count." She paused. "I've been teaching for fifteen years, and I've never seen someone pick up a routine that quickly."

Jasper looked like he'd been slapped. "But—that's not—I practiced for weeks—"

"Talent isn't fair," the instructor said simply, though her eyes never left Yohan. "Sometimes it just... appears."

She crossed her arms, a hint of something—curiosity? suspicion?—flickering across her face.

"You're not enrolled here, are you?"

"No, ma'am."

"Hmm." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "That's a shame. A real shame."

Turning to address the class, she raised her voice. "Let this be a lesson. Technique can be taught, but some people are simply born with an instinct for movement. Don't let it discourage you—let it inspire you to work harder."

Then she looked back at Yohan, and for the first time, there was the ghost of a smile on her lips.

"You and your girlfriend are free to stay."

Chloe's face turned bright red at the word "girlfriend," but she looked too relieved to protest.

The instructor adjusted her glasses again, then took a step closer to Yohan.

"Actually… I have a proposition for you."

The room went quiet again, everyone leaning in to hear.

"As you may have noticed, I occasionally bring in senior students to assist with demonstrations." She gestured vaguely toward Jasper, who still looked like he was processing his existential crisis.

"But what I really need is someone with natural talent—someone who can pick up choreography quickly and execute it properly the first time."

She paused, letting her words sink in.

"I want you to work as my assistant. You'll help me demonstrate routines, assist students when they're struggling, and in exchange…"

A small smile played at the corner of her lips. "I'll teach you everything I know. Proper technique, theory, performance skills—all of it,"

Yohan blinked. "You want me… as your assistant?"

"That's what I said, isn't it?" She raised an eyebrow. "You're clearly a natural, but raw talent only gets you so far. With proper training, you could be exceptional."

"I could speak with the head of department about arranging some pay for you, as a part-time worker, so it wouldn't be entirely voluntary." She added it as an incentive.

The students around them erupted into whispers again.

"Lucky bastard…"

"He is going to get paid to attend the same class we pay to attend!"

"I've been here two months and she barely even looks at me…"

Jasper looked like he wanted to sink through the floor.

The instructor held up a hand, silencing the murmurs. "Of course, this would require you to commit to attending my classes regularly. I don't tolerate flakiness, and I expect dedication." Her gaze sharpened. "So? What do you say?"

Yohan glanced over at Chloe, who looked equally stunned and relieved. Then he looked back at the instructor—at her serious expression, at the opportunity she was offering.

'Surrounded by beautiful women, who admire me'

He couldn't help but grin.

"When do I start?"

The instructor's smile widened—just slightly, but it was there.

"Tomorrow. 9 AM sharp. Don't be late." She turned back to address the class. "Now then, everyone back to your positions. We still have half a class left."

As the students shuffled back into formation, the girl who'd dragged Yohan into class earlier sidled up to him with starry eyes.

"So you're going to be here regularly now?" she asked, her tone dripping with interest.

"Looks like it," Yohan replied.

She beamed. "Perfect."

Across the room, Jasper caught his eye—and for a moment, Yohan could have sworn he saw the faintest flicker of something dangerous behind that average face.

But it was gone in an instant, replaced by a forced smile.

"Welcome to the department," Jasper said flatly.

Yohan smiled back, equally insincere. "Thanks. I'm sure we'll get along great."

The moment class ended, Yohan found himself surrounded.

"That was amazing!"

"Can you show me that turn again?"

"Are you really not a student here?"

Girls clustered around him like he'd just won the lottery, their voices overlapping in an excited chorus.

The girl who'd dragged him into class had somehow positioned herself directly in front of him, leaning in close enough that he could smell her perfume.

"You should totally come to our practice sessions," she said, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "We could use someone with your... talents."

"I'd love to get some private lessons," another chimed in, her smile a bit too bright.

Yohan tried to maintain his composure, but internally he was celebrating. 'This is exactly what I imagined college would be like.'

Still, through the crowd, he caught a glimpse of Chloe gathering her things near the back of the studio. She moved quickly, efficiently, like she was trying to slip out unnoticed.

"Hey, uh, excuse me for a second," Yohan said, gently extricating himself from the group.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"We were just getting to know you!"

He squeezed through the disappointed faces and hurried toward the exit where Chloe was already halfway out the door.

"Chloe! Wait up!"

She paused—barely—but didn't turn around immediately. When she did, her expression was carefully neutral.

"What is it?" she asked, adjusting the strap of her bag.

"I just wanted to check if you're okay. That whole thing got pretty intense, and I know it was kind of my fault—"

"It's fine," she cut him off, her tone polite but distant. "Thanks for helping me out back there. I appreciate it."

"Yeah, but—"

"I really need to get to my next class," she interrupted again, already taking a step backward. "So if that's all…"

Yohan frowned. Something felt off. She wasn't making eye contact, and her entire demeanor screamed I want to leave.

"Are you sure everything's okay? You seem—"

"Everything's fine, Yohan." She finally met his gaze, and her eyes were flat, unreadable. "Look, I appreciate what you did. Really. But we're not… I mean, I haven't forgotten about what happened first at the amusement park and then my house."

The words landed heavier than they should have.

"Right," Yohan said slowly. "I just thought since we got thrown into that mess together—"

"It was just a misunderstanding." Chloe shifted her weight, clearly eager to leave. "The teacher thought we were together, but we're not. So there's no need to make this into something it's not."

Before Yohan could respond, one of the girls from class appeared at his elbow.

"There you are! We're all going to grab coffee—you should come with us!"

Chloe took the opportunity immediately. "See? Your fan club is waiting." There was the faintest hint of something in her voice—sarcasm? Annoyance? Both? Yohan couldn't tell.

"I'll see you around, Yohan."

And with that, she turned and walked away, her ponytail swaying behind her as she disappeared down the hallway.

Yohan stood there for a moment, watching her go, a strange feeling settling in his chest.

"Hey, earth to Yohan?" The girl tugged on his sleeve. "Coffee? Yes or no?"

He glanced back at the group of girls waiting expectantly near the studio entrance. They were all smiling at him, eager, interested.

This was what he wanted, wasn't it? Attention from beautiful women, a chance to be surrounded by them every day…

So why did Chloe's cold shoulder always bother him so much?

"Yeah," he said finally, forcing a grin. "Coffee sounds good."

The girls cheered, immediately pulling him back toward the group. Within seconds, he was engulfed again—questions flying, hands occasionally brushing against his arm, laughter filling the air.

But as they all headed toward the campus café together, Yohan couldn't help glancing back one more time toward the empty hallway where Chloe had disappeared.

She really wasn't interested in rekindling what they used to have. A part of him thought after seeing her here, they would continue like the past never happened.

'Maybe it's better this way… I don't want to end up hurting her like last time. Plus it's not like I would miss her with all these pretty girls around'

There were at least five different girls walking him to the café

Meanwhile, in the campus courtyard...

Jasper slumped against the concrete bench, his jaw still tight from what he'd witnessed in class.

Across from him, Freddie leaned back with his arms spread across the backrest, while Hazard sat forward, cracking his knuckles methodically—a habit that usually preceded something violent.

"So let me get this straight," Freddie said, his voice calm but edged with something dangerous. "Yohan just… showed up? At our department?"

"Not just showed up," Jasper corrected bitterly. "He humiliated me in front of everyone. Made me look like a fucking amateur."

Hazard stopped cracking his knuckles and looked up. "How?"

"He learned the entire routine—one I've been practicing for weeks—just from watching me do it once. And then he performed it perfectly. Flawlessly. Like he'd been dancing his whole life." Jasper's hands clenched into fists. "Professor Kim practically offered him a job on the spot."

Freddie's expression didn't change, but something flickered behind his eyes. "Professor Kim? The one who barely acknowledges anyone?"

"Yeah. That one." Jasper let out a harsh laugh. "She wants him as her assistant. Said she'd personally train him."

The silence that followed was heavy.

Hazard was the first to break it, his voice low and gravelly. "So he's moving in on our territory now."

"Looks like it," Jasper muttered.

Freddie drummed his fingers against the bench, thinking. Unlike Hazard, who solved most problems with his fists, or Jasper, who let his emotions run hot, Freddie was the strategist. He was the one responsible for this group.

And Yohan's presence alone was a direct challenge to Freddie's status at school.

"This is a problem," Freddie said finally.

"No shit," Jasper snapped.

Freddie shot him a look—calm, cold, silencing. "Let me finish. This is a problem because Yohan isn't just some random guy anymore. If Professor Kim is backing him, he's got legitimacy now. Reputation. People will start paying attention to him."

"They already are," Jasper said through gritted teeth. "You should've seen the way the girls were all over him after class. Like he was some kind of celebrity."

Hazard snorted. "Girls are stupid."

"Maybe," Freddie said, "but they're also influential. Especially in a department like ours. If Yohan becomes popular with them, he'll have social capital. And if he's got Professor Kim's endorsement on top of that…" He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.

Jasper leaned forward, his voice dropping. "So what do we do?"

Freddie was quiet for a moment, his gaze distant as he worked through the angles.

"Don't worry just leave it to me,"

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