[center][color=palegreen][h1]★彡 ㄚㄩ乙ㄩ尺ㄩ 丂卂ㄒㄖ ★彡[/h1]
★  [img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/48d43048-0589-439b-b49b-2cef9fefcf1e.gif [/img]  ★  [img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/69414a24-490f-43eb-9124-bfd36bcc1c6f.gif [/img]  ★  [img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/d64e2bce-2127-4668-841b-06c0ce54efd6.gif [/img]  ★[/color][/center]
[center][sub][color=palegreen]Location:[/color] Basement
[color=palegreen] Interacting with:[/color] [@murdoc][/sub][/center]
[hr][hr]
Watching the trainees pour into the basement from his comfortably out-of-the-way seat, Yuzuru mentally catalogues faces and names the best he can, compiling a list of who's here and no-shows. He's curious to see who's still sticking it out and who's given up on the whole "kpop idol" thing. Not that his memory is perfect; but he tries to make an effort to befriend people, in a [i]quiet[/i] way. Luckily, his four years of living and training at AS Entertainment is more than enough time to see which trainees are friendly and which he'd rather avoid. There's your troublemakers Yun-seo and Becky; the ice queens like Blissany and Mo Chou; and, for some reason, a starry-eyed kid who slipped past AS Ent's audition, [i]somehow.[/i]

Though, something could be said for not judging a book by its cover…

Still. Yuzuru is [i]perfectly[/i] content to keep away from Becky's cynical musing and the occasional (he shudders just thinking about it) catfight between her and Yun-seo. He's just going to sit here and sip his tea, thank you very much; even living with his three loud, enthusiastic step-sisters didn't give him any extra knowledge on the petty inner workings of girls. 

They're weird. He doesn’t get them very much. 

[color=A7CCCC]“Do you mind if I sit here?"[/color]

Shaken from his thoughts, Yuzuru looks up from where he's absentmindedly staring at his sneakers to see another trainee standing--no, [i]towering[/i] over him. 

[color=palegreen]"Yeah, no problem,"[/color] Yuzuru answers, Korean coming out a little sloppy as his mind starts to race to find the name to match to this new arrival. Hm, how long has he been here? He's sure it hasn't been over a year; Yuzuru estimates he's only started noticing the (admittedly, hard to ignore) new trainee during dance practice maybe last December? He sticks out like a sore thumb, it must be said; Yuzuru is sure there's something he's missing--

[color=palegreen]Jasper, right? The one who--"[/color] [i]--Fell during practice and scared me half to death?[/i] Yes, yes he is. But… maybe don't say that.

As memories go, Yuzuru's remembrance of that fateful day is far from crystal clear, but he does remember being almost crushed by another guy during [i]Lucifer[/i] dance rehearsals. He remembers this because he tripped over his water bottle, too, and then his sneakers were soggy for a day and a half, and then they made a gross sound whenever he walked and by the time he was done with his shift at the restaurant where he works his socks were soaking and freezing cold. It was not a good day.

Is he making too big of a deal about it? Probably. But Yuzuru can't just forget a pivotal moment in his career like that, now can he? (His mother would say [i]yes, yes he can.[/i] That's not the point, mom! Those were my favorite pair!)

Halfway through Yuzuru's rapid-fire how-do-I-explain-this-without-sounding-weird (he doesn't hold it against him, so he doesn't want to make him feel bad…) train of thought, the intercom clicks on again. There's a screeching sound, which Yuzuru assumes is the fault of the old-as-dirt audio system, but is actually just Manager Taeyung stretching. Then, after three seconds of torture, the fateful words are spoken.

[center][color=deepskyblue]"Yuruzu Sato, come up on stage!"[/color][/center]Well. It's time. 

Yuzuru stands up from his seat, brushing away a wave of sudden butterflies and advancing to the front of the room, fingers a little twitchy where they're shoved in his pockets. But that feeling is soon swept away, replaced instead by the things Yuzuru knew since the first dance competition, that first [i]Swan Lake[/i] performance--resolve, spirit, and just a bit of star-struck thirteen-year-old that he doesn't have the heart to get rid of, even after so many evaluations. The situation is entirely mundane, but Yuzuru still wants to give it his best, as always.

From the corner of his eye, he sees another staff member setting up a camera, which is new, but Yuzuru wasn’t dancing in front of mirrors for nothing. Performance is an art, and art is meant to be seen. Therefore, he should put on a show. Conveniently, this is what Yuzuru is best at doing.

Spending no time fixing his mic, he double-checks his appearance; shoelaces tied, nothing out of place with his admittedly boring outfit--black pants, black v-neck shirt, black cord bracelet dangling off his wrist (a good luck charm, his sisters say) and the now-dry pair of sneakers. The music starts like it's supposed to; Yuzuru likewise. And beyond that?

Truthfully, he doesn't--he doesn’t [i]not remember[/i], he just gets serious. And when Yuzuru gets serious, everything other than his own body, his voice and the music ceases to matter. 

It's easy to stop worrying; it's easy to let the music take control of his limbs and just start [i]dancing,[/i] so Yuzuru does just that. While he's not stupid enough to completely indulge himself--no room for mistakes, they always say, and that means he needs to stay on his toes--he can let himself untense, because stiffness has no place in dancing and neither do nerves. Every move must be fluid; every step, leading into the next. The point of performance is to build and keep anticipation, not lose it. Honestly, he was a little worried about the choreography, it being his first time Yuzuru's freestyled more than a few seconds of dancing, but when the music starts his mind plays back every move and his body follows suit. After all, dancing has always come naturally to him; it's not a surprise that he would grow into not just memorizing, but creating his own dances. He expects nothing less from somebody raised by former choreographers and performers; his stepfather would be proud.

[center][hider=Click for Rocky][color=orange]I imagine the dancing to be something like the second half of this video, because there's a lot of freestyling...[/color][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NHga1en_6G8[/youtube]
[color=orange]You should really just be watching the [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uKqPsfOiJLU]Rocky version[/url] though.[/color][/hider][/center]
In comparison to his dancing skill, the vocals of [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i1oTSAhdzNQ]"Bad"[/url] are a little more difficult, but Yuzuru hasn't trained four years just to be a backup dancer. He wants the whole package and it looks like the voice training lessons are finally starting to pay off. The lyrics to "Bad" aren't horribly complicated, and Yuzuru just has to hope he hits all the right notes and that nobody notices his slip-ups and Japanese accent that bleeds in halfway through. He wonders if his parents are watching--or is it better to surprise them? He'll send a video once the evaluations are done, or sing a little on the phone. 

(That thought, though--that almost breaks his concentration somewhat. It has way of doing that, when his family is involved.) 

And all of a sudden, it's over. He is no longer flying, no longer under the lights, no longer on the stage. 

The crowd comes back into focus, but it's small and bored and Yuzuru comes to terms on how he is, once again, standing in the middle of a dinghy basement. He is not a star. The feeling is kind of discouraging, but he bows low nonetheless and takes his leave. 

From somewhere off to the side, Manager Taeyung is looking confusedly at a pair of glasses that aren't his. The intercom crackles. Yuzuru sighs, flopping back into his seat (or, [i]a[/i] seat) and reaching for his water bottle. 

[center][color=deepskyblue]"Mo Chou, please come up on stage!"[/color]
[sub][@TheDookieNut][/sub][/center][hr][hr]