Because the stage was small, each member moved within tight boundaries — their upper bodies expressive, while their legs barely shifted.
The choreography looked as if their wrists were bound, and the lyrics looping over the speakers spoke of obsession.
Ah… so this is a love story about falling for your own demon.
A lover consumed by obsession, inflicting wounds in the name of love—and in the end, the realization that the lover is the very devil himself, yet surrendering to love anyway.
In classical ballet, a demon was something to flee from or defeat; but in pop culture, the demon could be desired, even loved.
That idea unsettled Yoojin deeply.
To her, loving a demon meant loving Choi Hyun-oh — the man who had trapped her for ten years.
Love was not something he was ever entitled to.
And yet, despite the disturbing theme, Yoojin couldn't look away.
Each movement was sharp, deliberate — masculine energy concentrated in every restrained gesture.
It was the polar opposite of ballet's flowing grace.
Something inside her — something she had kept locked away for years — cracked open.
Without realizing it, Yoojin began to mimic their hand movements, caught up in the rhythm.
A small smile curved her lips as her body swayed lightly with the beat.
Then, as her eyes traveled across the stage, they met Dongha's.
Startled, Yoojin froze. The faint gleam in his eyes, hidden beneath his hood, sent a jolt through her.
Wait… that's right.
Dongha hadn't taken the center position once.
He'd stayed behind, performing only the supporting choreography, never seeking attention —as if the spotlight meant nothing to him.
The audience's focus naturally fell on the main dancers, each showing off their unique charms.
But Dongha's tall, broad frame and quiet intensity drew the eye anyway.
Even when people looked away, their gaze inevitably found him again.
"Yoojin!"
Se-ryun came bouncing over, unable to contain her excitement.
"Wasn't that amazing? They were called UNI-X, right? I think I'm already a fan! Who was your favorite?"
As the members stepped down from the stage and made their way toward the bar, Se-ryun followed, still giddy.
The crowd's attention followed them too, curiosity and awe hanging thick in the air.
"Let's go," Dongha said quietly.
The other five members looked reluctant to leave.
Leading the group, Dongha suddenly stopped right in front of Yoojin.
Kay, who had been trailing behind, leaned forward with a grin.
"Who's this? Aren't you going to introduce us?"
Dongha's face hardened instantly.
He pushed Kai lightly to block him from coming any closer.
"None of your business. Just head out first."
Kai blinked at the cold tone, glancing between them before slipping away with the others.
Beside Yoojin, Se-ryun's cheeks flushed pink — thrilled by the attention her friend was getting.
"Se-ryun, don't you remember? It's Yoon Dongha."
At that, Dongha turned to her and gave a short, incredulous laugh.
So the same protective friend was still by Yoojin's side.
Back in middle school, every boy knew: to talk to Yoojin, you first had to get past Se-ryun.
The problem was, most never did — because Se-ryun had a habit of falling for any boy who so much as met her gaze.
"Cha Se-ryun?"
"Dongha?" Se-ryun squealed, smacking his arm playfully.
His expression twisted, clearly uncomfortable.
"Hey, Yoon Dongha! I thought you were going to Gangrim Arts High, but you disappeared! Wow, it's been forever!"
"You didn't go to the arts school?"
Yoojin's eyes widened.
She had never asked what happened to him — never allowed herself to.
And Se-ryun wasn't the type to gossip, so Dongha's name had simply vanished from their conversations.
Ignoring Se-ryun, Dongha leaned closer to Yoojin, his voice low and smooth.
"I've gotta go."
"Right, you're with your team."
He nodded, hesitated, then asked, "Do you still dance?"
"Dance? No… I stopped a long time ago. That performance was my last."
Dongha tilted his head, eyes narrowing.
"Really? Not even once — haven't you felt like spinning again?"
Yoojin swallowed hard.
In ballet, a turn wasn't just movement; it was transcendence.
That dizzying, breathless moment of perfect balance — the one that made every dancer fall in love with the stage.
She couldn't answer.
"…."
"Got it."
He gave a knowing smile, one corner of his lips lifting as he winked.
The slanted angle of his brow, the defined lines of his forehead—Yoojin found herself staring.
For a fleeting second, she wanted to reach out and trace the curve of his brow with her fingers.
"If I ask for your number again, you'll probably give me a fake one, right?Never mind — I'll find you myself."
That's when it hit her — she had given him her number once, and then changed it soon after.
Her ears burned as he laughed softly and brushed past her and Se-ryun on his way out.
"God, why's he so hot now? And he dances like that? He used to do ballet! How the hell can he pull off idol choreography too?"
Se-ryun was practically shouting, still reeling from excitement.
Yoojin, on the other hand, could only laugh — disbelieving, dazed, and just a little breathless.
*
After that night at the club, Yoojin barely left her bed all weekend.
Se-ryun had insisted on grabbing food afterward, and they'd ended up drinking soju until dawn at a nearby gamjatang place.
Combined with the all-nighters she'd pulled studying for midterms, it was a miracle she didn't collapse sooner.
By Monday morning, after two straight days of sleep, she felt almost human again.
On her way to her 9 a.m. class, she called Seo-hee.
Both had passed the Samho Group recruitment exam on Saturday, and now they were set to attend the new employee orientation together.
"Unnie, where are you?"
— "Oh, our fellow Samho rookie!"
Yoojin smiled at her teasing tone.
"Come on, orientation hasn't even started yet."
— "I'm at Max Coffee, behind the school."
"I was going to buy you coffee today! You treated me last time."
— "Hey, thanks to you, I nailed last Friday's exam. Let me treat you."
"Thanks, unnie."
— "Where are you now?"
"Front gate. I'll be there soon."
— "Okay, see you in a bit!"
She hung up, inhaling the crisp autumn air.
The city campus smelled faintly of fallen leaves — cool, sweet, and nostalgic.
It was the last week of October.
Next Monday would be Samho Group's orientation, meaning this was her final week of university classes.
If she submitted her projects early and attached her employment letter, her professors would grant her final grades.
Twenty-one, entering a major corporation.
People said she was young, but Yoojin felt old.
After all, she had lived to thirty before dying—and six years had passed since she came back.
She thought of the life that might have been—she would be thirty-six now, with a child turning five.
Sometimes she missed that unseen child, felt guilty even, but often she wondered—perhaps this second life was a gift born from that lost one.
Yoojin had sworn to make this life count.
No matter how fragile it might be, she would resist anything that tried to shatter it.
Trading ballet for a university degree and corporate stability hadn't been easy.
Her body still demanded movement—it craved it.
Every morning, she tore herself awake with brutal stretching routines, muscles screaming until the urge to dance quieted.
Her body obeyed discipline, not desire.
Even now, six years after quitting, she still carried herself with the effortless grace of a dancer—head high, spine straight, every step composed.
Then—
"Han Yoojin."
"Huh?"
Dongha.
He was striding toward her with long, sure steps, his expression unreadable.
Yoojin froze, her round eyes widening, lips parting in shock.