PRODUCE 101 | c.s + j.wy

XXXIII

you wouldn't believe how much i wanted to choke myself while looking for a pic like this for this chapter

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The third of the four open dance lessons of the day had almost come to his end. The teacher gave them some seconds to drink, before splitting the class in the usual four groups and do the last part of it to make everyone have fun and hype the others.

Wooyoung was a sweating mess, his hair was so damp that he had been forced to tie it and wear a headband, then dry his face with a towel for the nth time that day. He had sweat patches on his chest, his back and even on his pants, which he planned to change before the next lesson. By the way, he wasn't the only one like that. Almost every boy inside that room was at his worst look ever, after almost five hours of intense dance training.

"Oh my god, that's so crazy." Seonghwa said to no one in particular, while they were called back in place to the teacher, who was starting to split into the groups. Some of them still with the water filling their cheeks.

Wooyoung was in the third group. He walked to the sides of the rooms to see the first two. In the first one there were Seonghwa and Hongjoong, so he occupied himself with loud screams and yells to hype them. They were very good, and confident. That choreo, differently from the first two, had been pretty tough to some of them, but they all caught it, and after such many hours they were full of adrenaline to enjoy the time, the dancing and the friends at their highest.

Differently from them, Wooyoung felt particularly confident about the steps. That type of confidence which make you more charismatic with facials, since you don't have to focus on moving your body. When it was his turn, he positioned himself in first raw and unleashed his hair, shaking the head a bit to give it a nice shape. Of course, it was pretty wet, but he still felt attractive, which we just explained how boosted his confidence in everything.

He danced very well, and continued a bit after the steps had finished, to make a little freestyle session with two more guys. He was so high he didn't even notice how much he was smirking to the mirror, his tongue sometimes making his appearance to wet his dry lips or to just add some more joy to his expression.

Who didn't miss a single movement from him was San, bowed on his ankles next to the mirror to have a clear view of Wooyoung's performance. He was ready to shout and hype him. What he wasn't prepared for was all that charisma and definitely not innocent looks the guys was making with his expressions. Of course, he had seen a lot of him performing during the whole journey inside there, but it never was like this. First, because in the first training period he hasn't properly noticed the other; and second, because this time felt different. Yes, Wooyoung was a great performer as an idol, but dancing was definitely his thing. The fun he was having could be read through his face and his whole body movements. Although the esthetical appeal of him, San felt butterfly in his stomach at the sight of such a happy Wooyoung. It was the most beautiful thing of the day.

He thought. There was still more to go before the ending of that day.

Soon after, the song stopped and San walked to the center, as he was part of the fourth and last group. Wooyoung yelled at him in anticipation, make a little smile to grow on the other's lips. Suddenly, San felt again that feeling he wasn't used to: timidity. He had always been the charismatic one, who managed to get his own spotlight even with the lightest action; now, the fact that Wooyoung had been so good, and he was watching him (probably, even focusing on him and himself only) made his stomach to twitch at the thought. He wanted the other to be proud.

Was it possible that the best one among those people was feeling this way?
Clearly, it was.

Anyway, San did a very good performance, as usual. Everybody yelled at him and at the others, but he didn't remain at the center to continue with the freestyle. He just ran away and hid behind Wooyoung.