Remember when i said i was rewriting this book well i am

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No matter what you believe, remember—an enemy or rival could be a blessing in disguise.

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At 5 a.m., Hyunjin's alarm jolted him awake, dragging him from restless dreams that felt more like taunts than respite. The new term had begun, and while others might have felt excitement, he met the morning with sarcasm. "Squealing with joy," he muttered dryly, stumbling out of bed. The routine of brushing his teeth and showering offered little comfort, but the cold water jolted his senses awake. Pulling on oversized joggers and a loose tank top, he grabbed his bag and headed out, determined to shake the unease gnawing at him.

His first stop was Blue Hour, the boba shop where the bittersweet rush of caffeine and tapioca was his lifeline at this ungodly hour. By 6 a.m., he was at the campus dance studio, ready to throw himself into practice before the day officially began. Dance was his escape, his sanctuary—until today.

The moment he stepped into the studio, he froze. The space wasn't empty.

A blonde-haired boy with freckles was already there, his movements a mesmerizing blur as he glided through the BTS "Run" choreography. Hyunjin's stomach twisted as he watched. The routine wasn't particularly hard—he'd mastered it himself ages ago—but this boy performed it with a level of grace and precision that felt almost unfair. Each step flowed into the next like water finding its natural course. His footwork was sharp, his energy flawless, and his expression calm, as if perfection came effortlessly to him.

Hyunjin's jaw tightened, frustration bubbling under his skin. How was this guy so good? His every instinct screamed to look away, but he couldn't. His gaze remained locked, caught between admiration and simmering resentment. The boy's skill illuminated everything Hyunjin doubted about himself—every stumble, every imperfection. It burned.

The longer he watched, the more his emotions twisted into something he couldn't untangle. Envy, yes, but also fascination. Who was this boy? Why did he make Hyunjin feel as if he needed to prove something, not just to himself but to him?

His blood boiled at the thought. Hyunjin's sanctuary felt invaded, his control slipping. But beneath the anger was something else—a strange pull, like gravity tethering him to the stranger. It made no sense, but it was undeniable.

Across the room, Felix felt the intensity of Hyunjin's stare, his every move seemingly scrutinized. Yet, as much as he hated the tension between them, a flicker of curiosity and longing stirred in him. Even without words, he wanted Hyunjin near him, if only to understand what lay behind those sharp, glaring eyes.

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Hyunjin's eyes followed the freckled boy as he walked out, the weight of his presence lingering like a shadow. His siren-like gaze clung to the boy's retreating figure, studying every detail as if trying to decode the enigma that had just unraveled in front of him.

The boy's features were striking, almost ethereal. His golden-blonde hair seemed to catch the faint morning light, framing a face dotted with freckles that softened his sharp edges. There was something so pure about him, a fragile beauty that tugged at Hyunjin's chest. He looked like an angel who had wandered into the wrong world.

But beneath that delicate exterior, Hyunjin saw something else. The boy was unnervingly thin, the kind of thin that spoke of battles fought silently and unseen. Yet, for someone so fragile-looking, he moved with an effortless power, as if dance was an extension of his very being.

How could someone so contradictory exist? Fragility paired with precision, purity laced with an undeniable intensity. Hyunjin's fists clenched at his sides as a storm of emotions swirled within him—frustration, envy, and a strange pull he couldn't ignore.

As the freckled boy disappeared from sight, Hyunjin let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He hated how much space the stranger was taking up in his mind already, how his flawless performance gnawed at Hyunjin's own confidence. But more than that, he hated how he couldn't shake the boy's image from his thoughts, as if he'd been branded by that fleeting encounter.

For reasons he couldn't yet understand, Hyunjin knew this wouldn't be the last time he'd find himself drawn to the freckled boy's presence.

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