As soon as they stepped out of the taxi, Dongha and Yoojin found themselves standing face-to-face among a forest of towering buildings. The sharp early-winter breeze brushed past them.
"There's a dance studio here?"
Yoojin looked up at the tightly packed high-rises with a puzzled expression.
"Yeah. Come here."
Dongha narrowed his eyes with a playful grin and tugged her wrist.
His coat flapped in the wind as he walked ahead, his broad back swaying with each step.
For a moment, where his hand touched her wrist, Yoojin felt a ticklish shiver.
"Let go for a second. It's uncomfortable."
But instead of letting go, Dongha tightened his grip and quickened his pace.
They followed a side staircase down into the basement. The first basement floor of the twenty-story building was a restaurant arcade.
Their footsteps echoed along the fluorescent-lit hallway.
A studio? Down here?
The deeper they went through the maze-like corridor, the clearer a fast-paced beat grew.
The sound alone made Yoojin feel buoyant—but Dongha's expression sank as if something heavy had settled over him.
"Damn… great."
The playful look from moments earlier disappeared, replaced by a hard mask. The hand holding her wrist slid up and roughly swept over his face.
The dance studio occupied the very back of the floor, without even a signboard.
A sharper, pulsing Latin rhythm filled the entire space.
Mixed with the music, a group chant leaked out:
"One, two, three. Five, six, seven."
Dongha released her wrist and strode toward a man crouched by the entrance, head lowered.
A pile of dance shoes surrounded the man—whose hair was spiked stiff with mousse and spray—and he was busy counting a thick wad of cash.
"Bro!"
Startled, the man snapped his head up at the sight of Dongha towering over him and fell backward with a thud.
"Dongha? Isn't today your first day at work? What are you doing here?"
"Bro, seriously? I get a job and you immediately start… running a whole operation?"
Operation? What operation? Gambling?
Yoojin blinked, completely lost.
"Stop paying all the studio rent on your own. We've gotta start making money where we can."
"Wow."
Dongha let out a hollow laugh toward the ceiling.
The truth was, this building belonged entirely to his bro, Yoon Taeyoung.
Back in high school, when Dongha first started crew dancing, Taeyoung let him use this space for free.
'Stop messing around in the streets and practice here.'
'No thanks.'
'Just look around once before you decide.'
The moment Dongha saw the studio, he knew he couldn't refuse.
The basement level location in a building on Teheran-ro, the massive open space carved out at the very back of the floor—everything was ideal. Big enough for over thirty dancers to jump, spin, and move freely.
From the wooden flooring to the wall-to-wall mirrors, built-in lockers, and the sound system, the place was perfect.
Dongha and the others had always danced wherever they could: on the street, in empty lots—any open space.
He personally preferred dancing outdoors after years of feeling suffocated in ballet studios.
But not everyone in the crew felt the same way.
Dancers rarely earned steady money. Over time, people quit—tired, broke, worn down.
Dongha had wished for a space where they could dance comfortably, and Taeyoung must have sensed it.
Reluctantly, Dongha accepted his brother's offer.
That studio became their hideout, and naturally, Beat Crew was born.
Today, Beat Crew wasn't just a team—they produced K-pop project performances and hosted their own shows. One of the top crews in Korea. And Dongha was their leader.
But he never told anyone that Taeyoung owned the building.
Everyone knew the building belonged to Chairman Yoon of Samho Group—but Dongha and Taeyoung's relationship remained a closely guarded secret.
To his crew, Dongha always repeated the same thing:"I'll handle it. Don't worry about anything else."
"Bro Cheol-oh, didn't we agree the social club only uses weekends?"
Dongha's voice curved sharply.
Cheol-oh sprang to his feet. He scoffed, though with his barely-165-centimeter height he only reached Dongha's shoulder.
"You didn't check the group chat again, did you?"
"…"
Dongha clenched his jaw. He'd missed something again, hadn't he.
Cheol-oh pulled out his phone and scrolled furiously.
"See? I texted last Monday. Starting this month, we lease out the space on weekdays too—7 p.m. to 10 p.m. You didn't say anything, so I thought you were fine with it!"
Dongha's brow twitched upward.
Last Monday…
That was the day Yoojin and he met at Korea University—also the day he was scrambling to find a successor for the Samho Entertainment idol project.
A deep sigh escaped him.
His crew leaders knew him too well—they always used his indifference to slide things past him.
And trusting them with all the operations? That was his mistake.
Then Cheol-oh noticed the woman behind Dongha and his eyes doubled in size.
Dongha had never brought a girl here before.
"Who's this?"
Yoojin stepped forward.
"We went to middle school together. And we just started as interns together."
Dongha's offhand tone made Yoojin glare at him before she bowed politely.
"Hi, I'm Yoojin Han. Middle school friend of Dongha, and now a Samho Group intern."
"Oh, nice to meet you."
Cheol-oh grinned—thin, horse-long face, pale skin dotted with freckles.
"I'm Cheol-oh, a dancer in Beat Crew. Street dancer."
Dongha slipped between them abruptly.
"Yoojin, your size is 240, right?"
"Yeah."
"Bro, give me a 240."
At that, Cheol-oh immediately crouched and wrapped his arms around the shoes protectively.
"Thirty-five thousand won."
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
Dongha grumbled but pulled out his wallet. Yoojin hurried to do the same.
"Let me pay."
"No. I was the one who brought you. I'll get it—it's nothing."
Snatching Dongha's cash, Cheol-oh pointed.
"Over there. Those are the 240s. Pick one. That red one's nice."
He indicated a pair of red pony-hair salsa shoes.
Dongha ignored him and grabbed a pair made of blue pony hair with soft embroidered curves.
"This one."
Yoojin's eyes had been drifting to the blue pair anyway. She took the shoes and gently stroked the material.
"They're soft."
"Yeah. They're salsa shoes. They don't slip, and your feet won't hurt even after dancing for hours."
Yoojin sat on a plastic chair across from the shoe rack and removed her low-heeled leather shoes.
When she tried to slip into the salsa shoes with her stockings still on, Dongha stopped her.
"Take off your stockings, or you'll slip and twist your ankle."
"Really?"
She peeled them off and slid her pale foot into the shoe.
"Not a single bruise."
Dongha looked genuinely surprised. Her feet had once been covered in blisters, cracks, and bandages.
"I know, right? Two years passed and they healed."
"Good."
Dongha smiled at her—bright, almost boyish. It overlapped with the image of him in ninth grade, making something spark low in Yoojin's stomach.
"Shall we go in?"
"Yeah."
When Yoojin stood, the five-centimeter heel made her height stand out even more, and the cushioned sole hugged her feet softly.
Just before the door opened, anticipation fluttered in her chest.
Then she remembered: these are salsa shoes.
"Are they all doing salsa?" she whispered.
"Yeah. It's a Gangnam salsa club."
Dongha opened the door—
—and the scene inside made Yoojin slap her hand over her mouth in shock.
[MAYKEL BLANCO Y SU SALSA MAYOR & MAYKEL FONTS — Dale Lo Que Lleva]
A husky male voice belted out Latin music through a powerful sound system, filling the wide studio.
About twenty men and women—fresh from work in suits or semi-formal outfits—were stepping in sync as they watched their reflections in the wall-long mirror.
As Dongha and Yoojin entered, everyone glanced at them through the mirror.
"Stand in the back."
Dongha took her coat and tucked both coat and bag into a locker.
At the front stood a tall, slender woman leading the group. When her eyes met Dongha's, she waved warmly.
He gave her a small nod in return.
Then she barked commands in a firm voice:
"Press the floor! Really feel your weight!"
"Feel the music—ride the rhythm! Don't stiffen up!"
"One, two, three. Five, six, seven!"
Right foot forward, left foot forward, right foot back—one, two, three.
Left foot back, right foot back, left foot forward—return to place. Five, six, seven.
The basic salsa step.